of being made use of, or in any way trodden under foot, than usual, during the rest of the morning.

'Mrs. Strangways leaves Weymouth to-day,' she informed Esther shortly before they left. I heard it from my lodging-girl, who knows the chambermaid's sister at the York. She goes by the two-twenty train as we do. Wouldn't it be a remarkable coincidence' (Whitty thought everything was a remarkable coincidence) 'if we were to travel in the same carriage? She's going back to Bath to join her husband. He's a queen's messenger, you know, and returned from St. Petersburgh last night. The telegraph the telegram, I mean to say-arrived quite late in the evening, and she sat up packing half the night. Most devoted, wasn't it?'

'Devoted to return to her husband? Well, Miss Whitty, I really can't see it quite in that light. Besides, as she is not leaving till this afternoon, she might have deferred it till the morning, and so have spared herself the trouble of being devoted at all.'

Esther had been conscious, before ever seeing her, of an instinctive dislike to Mrs. Strangways; and that bow and smile she had once seen her accord to Paul Chichester, strangely enough, had not dispossessed her of the prejudice; so she was by no means warm in her manner when Mrs. Strangways came up, an hour later, as they were waiting upon the platform for the train, and proffered a very friendly renewal of acquaintance with Mrs. Tudor. Mrs. Strangways had seen Mrs. Tudor [several times on the beach, but had not known whether Mrs. Tudor had recognized her or not. Sometimes people did not care for the trouble of making or renewing acquaintance by the seaside. She had met Mrs. Tudor at old Mrs. Bradshaw's last winter, and at Mrs. Kennedy's too. The general was laid up with the gout again. Mrs. Tudor had heard it, no doubt? 'And this,' turning composedly, and staring straight in Esther's face,

this is Miss Fleming, I am sure. I have often heard of Miss Fleming from my friend Jane Dashwood.'

The words and manner were, of course, irreproachable; yet Esther felt that Mrs. Strangways implied,

This great, raw, country-looking girl must be Miss Fleming. There can't be two such persons in the world as the Miss Fleming I have heard of.' And with that inborn dignity of hers, which was fully equal to all Mrs. Strangways' artificial assurance, she turned away as soon as Mrs. Tudor had introduced them, and began quietly asking Miss Whitty as to the disposal of the luggage.

'Oh, it's all right, I think. I'll just look at my card again. Six cases of Mrs. Tudor's and yours, and four of Wilson's, and my own box, and the parrot's cage, and umbrella, and air-cushion, and handbag, and basket. It's all quite right; but, oh dear, Miss Fleming, how much I wish it was safe for Loto to go with the other dogs! he's so very strange, and I think I must say disagreeable in his temper to-day.'

If poor Miss Whitty had an aversion in the world it was for dogs; if there had been anything she could have refused to a person with an incame of more than six hundred a year, it would have been to carry a dog wrapped up in her shawl. And then Loto, even for a fat old lapdog, was so superlatively disgusting! Loto made asthmatic noises as she breathed; Loto had a disagreeable filminess over her eyes; Loto was vicious, and treacherous, and snapping, and odious in every sense. The sufferings of the celebrated young Spartan with his fox were scarcely greater than what Whitty endured as she pressed Loto to her heart in her endeavours to screen her from the porters at that Weymouth station.

'Keep her head covered, Miss Whitty, keep her head covered,' said Mrs. Tudor, when they had taken their places in the carriage. 'Don't mind her trying to bite, it's only a playful way she has. Keep her well covered up, and seat yourself back. The guard will be coming in directly to see the tickets.'

'And if I should be found out! cried Miss Whitty, who, between her exertions with Loto and the

fears incident to her sex and age, that some one had taken her luggage, was in a state of most remarkable heat. If they find the dog out at the last, what am I to do?'

'Please don't raise such absurd difficulties, Miss Whitty,' said Mrs. Tudor, tartly. If you let the creature be seen, of course I shall have to pay for it. But, remember, if you do, make no application to me. Dis cussions with common people destroy me. For the time being Loto is yours; I wash my hands of her. Esther, my dear, come and sit with me at my end of the carriage. It is necessary for Miss Whitty to have a window to herself, in case poor Loto requires air.'

By dint of incessant feeding with sandwich and biscuits, to say nothing of occasional sharp nips round Loto's throat, Miss Whitty actually succeeded in evading all the official vigilance of Weymouth, and Esther was just hoping that they were to travel without Mrs. Strangways for a companion, when, at the last moment, a clear ringing laugh announced that lady to be still waiting upon the platform.

'Empty carriage here,' drawled a tall, silly-looking lad of eighteen, glancing superciliously for a moment, with very elevated eyebrows, across poor Miss Whitty's shrinking figure.

Room here, Mrs. Strangways, if you don't mind being so near the engine.'

Oh, I shall be quite safe, thank you. Minnie will take care of me, won't you, Minnie? Good-bye, Edward. Now mind, we are to see a great deal of you in town next spring. I shall never forgive you if you don't come and see me at once. Good-bye.' And then there was a very warm leave-taking, and, as it seemed to Esther, a rather conspicuous affectation of tenderness on 'Edward's' face, as he whispered parting compliments in the ear of this lady, who, in spite of her tiny hat, and turned-back hair, and manner of girlish heartiness, was still very nearly old enough to be his own mother.

'Edward' continued to stand by the carriage, carrying on an inaudible conversation with Mrs. Strang

ways until the train started; and then, and not till then. could Mrs. Strangways' eyes disengage themselves sufficiently from the fastening of her glove to perceive that there were other occupants besides herself in the carriage. Mrs. Tudor how very glad I am! You are going to Bath, of course? We shall be fellowtravellers for the remainder of the day, then! And Miss Fleming. I had not perceived you before; these horrid walls in the centre divide the carriages so completely in two.'

"I think those walls are the great advantage of the Great Western and its branches,' said Esther. 'They enable one just to see as much as one chooses, and no more, of one's fellow-passengers.'

It was unlike Esther Fleming to make so rude a speech; but some invincible desire seemed to propel her towards being disagreeable to Mrs. Strangways. Her Aunt Thalia heard her with complacence. It was a decided impertinence for a woman like Mrs. Strangways to pretend she had not seen her, Mrs. Tudor, sooner; a woman in a doubtful set, with a questionable reputation, and an income dependent upon her husband's services as queen's messenger! Mrs. Tudor was glad to see that Esther, young as she was, knew how to set people down, on occasion, and also what kind of people it was right to set down.

I think I know that little lad's face you were talking to, Mrs. Strangways; he's one of the Stantons, just the same silly white face as his mother. I suppose he and your young people are friends. Has your eldest son left school yet? I forget.'

'My eldest son, dear Mrs. Tudor! my children are quite little. Minnie, darling, come and say how do you do to Mrs. Tudor.'

But Mrs. Strangways' eyes: flashed. The ages of her, three eldest childred were bitter drops in her cup, thorns in her side, weapons of cruel sharpness, ever ready to the hand of all female friends who chanced to stand in need of any extraneous weapon of attack. Dates of all other kinds may be falsified; but what can put back the living, tangible at

tatestion conveyed by children of eleven, twelve, and thirteen years of age? Children tall of their age, too. The only way, and that a precarious one, of suppressing such evidence is to keep any unpleasantly-old children as much as possible at school, and out of sight; and this Mrs. Strangways did, reserving for her own companion her youngest child, Minnie, who, by reason of being pretty, and like herself, and small of her years, and considerably younger than the others, absorbed very nearly all the maternal instincts which Mrs. Strangways' scantily-endowed nature could supply.

The results of alternate, unbounded indulgence and absolute neglect, want of exercise by day, and sitting up late at night, did not seem to be very happy ones on Miss Minnie Strangways, whose small face was sallow and pinched, and, even at five years old, already wore a good deal of the anxious, restless look of her mother's. 'I don't want to change my place, thank you, ma,' was her answer to her mother's request. I don't want to come by you. I like to stop here and look at this woman and her dog.' And then Minnie perched her small feet up on the opposite seat, and recommenced staring poor Miss Whitty out of countenance with an air of cool superiority and aplomb that was good to see.

'Your daughter appears used to have her own way,' said Mrs. Tudor, 'like most of the other young people of this generation.'

'Oh, poor little thing! she is shockingly spoiled; so much with me, you see, and no companion of her own age. I believe, really, I ought to get her a governess, but it would take her so much out of my hands, I can't make up my heart to it.'

from the other children. Minnie and I had to rush off to Austria last Christmas, and when we got to Vienna, Mr. Strangways had left for somewhere else, and I had to stay there in all the horrid, cold, German winter by myself.'

'So I heard,' remarked Mrs. Tudor curtly: the world, in general, had not been behindhand in making many kindly surmises as to that last Viennese expedition of Mrs. Strangways. 'Esther, my love, come and sit by me. Do you remark that little village to the left? That is where your Aunt Engleheart and I once lived in our young days.'

Mrs. Strangways leant her head back quickly in her corner, and the expression of her face told Esther that Mrs. Tudor's manner had taken effect. After expressing due interest in the two farm-roofs and half a church spire that could be seen through the trees, she began to reflect what kind of life this woman's opposite her must be: this woman, in the prime of life still, with children, sufficient means, all the things that go so long a way towards making up happiness; but whom, in spite of all her cool assurance, so many chance shafts from alien hands had power to wound, and upon whose handsome face unrest and discontent were already written in handwriting not to be mistaken.

Mrs. Strangways was very handsome; perhaps it would not be too much to say that she was beautiful. She had taken her hat off now, and was leaning her head back with her eyes closed, so Esther was able to scrutinize her closely. The delicate blueveined temples, off which the blonde, luxuriant hair was braided back, the straight fine brows, the full rich lips, the graceful lines-though slightly shrunken now-of cheek and neck, all belonged to a higher class of beauty than anything Esther had seen before. Her own opinion might be that Mrs. Strangways' eyes, in spite of all their blue, were cold and hard of expression; that the mouth was sensual, the whole beauty too Cleopatra-like. The beauty itself was indisputable. No man would stop to ask himself what kind of mind or soul looked out from so per

He had

fectly fair a face! No man would think herself, Esther Fleming, anything but a dark, heavy-looking girl, beside Mrs. Strangways, although one was eighteen and the other two or three and thirty at least. What did Paul really think of her? Esther wondered. evaded the subject; he had implicated opinions the reverse of favourable of her as a companion for Jane. But then, how sweetly Mrs. Strangways had smiled upon him! Whatever else his sentiments, any man receiving a sweet smile from such a mouth could have no other opinion than that Mrs. Strangways was one of the most beautiful, the most fascinating women in the world!

Just as she reached this point in her meditations, Mrs. Strangways opened her eyes. 'You know Paul Chichester, Miss Fleming, don't you?' she asked, abruptly.

'I know him slightly,' answered Esther, and she felt thankful that she possessed self-control enough not to colour before Mrs. Strangways. 'His engagement to Jane Dashwood has, of course, made me hear a good deal of him.'

Mrs. Strangways laughed, and her laugh had a very bitter ring in it. Paul Chichester's engagement to Jane Dashwood! How simply you said that, Miss Fleming! Has Jane really made you believe Mr. Chichester will marry her?'

'Miss Dashwood has said very little to me on the subject. I believe the engagement is considered an open one.'

Open, but none the less sure of ending in smoke! Why, every one knows that poor Jane Dashwood is over head and ears in love with some one else. And as to Paul-as to Mr. Chichester, I mean-he never makes any concealment of his fixed intention of not marrying at all."

Miss Whitty, from her corner, heard this and looked up, quite excited. Mr. Chichester never means to marry! What a remarkable, what a very remarkable thing, and such a young man, too! There must be something in the background, for certain; better not inquire, perhaps! Miss Fleming, who would ever have thought, that

moonlight night when he was giving you Miss Dashwood's messages on the balcony behind the curtains, you know, that he was not a marrying man? I don't know that I have been so surprised by hearing anything for a long time. If one was intimately acquainted with Colonel Dashwood, now, it would be positively one's duty to acquaint him of the circumstances.'

'Of what circumstances, Miss Whitty?' asked Esther, with a quiet smile.

'Why, of Mr. Chichester giving out he does not intend to marry, and yet continuing to court Miss Dashwood all the time. It is just the kind of thing to break a young girl's heart really I have no patience with such men.'

'I don't think you need have any fears for Miss Dashwood. She is not a girl at all likely to break her heart, nor I should think was Mr. Chichester a man to act dishonourably.'

'You speak with warmth, Miss Fleming,' said Mrs. Strangways. 'Paul Chichester should be indebted to you for your kind defence of him.'

It was with great difficulty Esther could restrain herself from resenting the implied impertinence of the speech; but she did so: and probably her cool silence irritated her antagonist more than the bitterest retort she could have made. It was evident to Mrs. Strangways that the girl knew more of the whole matter than she either said or intended to say; evident that Paul was not a stranger to her, and that, while she professed to believe in his engagement, she was not one whit surprised to hear of his intention of not marrying. Was there more still than this? Could Paul, who professedly never admired any but fair, refined women, be taken by the rude hearty goodlooks, the mere country flesh-andblood comeliness of a face like that?

Mrs. Strangways leaned her head back in the corner of the carriage, after curtly desiring her daughter to come and sit beside her at once; Miss Fleming commenced a cheerful conversation with Whitty upon the probabilities of Lota's sleep lasting

until they reached Bath-and possessed, I suppose, by that sort of magnetic influence which communicates itself to any two women who are, or ever shall be, rivals-not another word, not another look was exchanged between them during all the remainder of the time that they continued in enforced companionship.

CHAPTER XVIII.

AN UNKNOWN RIVAL.

A friend was waiting on the plat form at Bath to receive Mrs. Strangways when they arrived-a tall and handsome friend; older, and very different looking to the Edward of Weymouth; but who, apparently, stood quite as high as that young gentleman himself in Mrs. Strangways' regards.

'Is that her husband, Aunt Thalia?' Esther asked, as she and Mrs. Tudor were standing waiting for Whitty and the luggage. 'Is that very good-looking person who is talking to Mrs. Strangways her husband?'

'That very good-looking person is Arthur Peel,' answered Mrs. Tudor. 'Whatever man you see beside Mrs. Strangways, at any time, or in any place, you may feel very safely assured is not her own husband. That woman is outstepping all bounds. I shall desire you to be careful in recognizing her until I have made out, exactly, at what houses she is received at present.'

Esther had not time then to trouble herself further about either Arthur Peel or Mrs. Strangways, but the next morning, during an early visit that she received from the Dashwoods, she mentioned the twilight meeting which she had seen the night before on the platform.

Is it necessary for Mrs. Strangways' safety that some one should always receive her and see her off when she travels, Miss Dashwood? or do you suppose that "Edward and Mr. Peel were both what poor Miss Whitty would call "happy coincidences?" "

'Coincidences! not a bit,' said Jane; and her face turned rather

red. The little wretch you saw at Weymouth was one of her boys, no doubt, the fearful boys that she always manages to get round her in the country or at the sea-side-faute de mieux! (and as Mrs. Strangways grows older it is an undoubted fact that her worshippers grow younger); as to Arthur—

'As to Arthur, Jenny?' asked Miss Millicent, somewhat maliciously.

'Well, I don't mind saying, deliberately, that Mrs. Strangways writes to him-I have seen her notes numbers of times-writes and asks him, in that sort of way she has, to meet her at such an hour on such a day. "It would be quite a kindness to Mr. Strangways, who has another engagement," et cetera. Then, of course, Arthur goes. How could he refuse to go, even if he wished?'

'And with what object does she ask him?' said Esther. What can be any woman's object in compromising her own self-respect for so very slight a reward as Mr. Arthur Peel's companionship?"

'I suppose when we are past thirty we shall know,' replied Jane, petulantly; that is to say, if we are still eager and athirst for attention, and willing to cast our reputation away with our own hands, sooner than not be spoken of at all, as she is. Wait till you have known her longer before you try to analyze Mrs. Strangways' motives, Miss Fleming. If you have a turn for moral dissection, like Paul, I can assure you her character is well worth attention. I used to study her, myself, until, one day, the thought struck me that most probably she was what I should be, myself, in another dozen years, and then I gave up the whole investigation in disgust. You have seen Paul, by the way? he told me all about you in a letter-oh yes, he does write to me-such queer loveletters-I must show you some of them! Do you like him? He was very guarded, and didn't say whether he talked to you for five minutes or five hours, or alone or before your aunt. Do you think him handsome? do you think I have chosen well?'

Esther thinks him too good for