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Eunice stirred with an instinctive
knowledge of what was coming.

"It is rather commonplace, perhaps,"
Belle went on; " one of the characters is
desperately so; just a stupid, happy girl,
looking at the world across some red
flowers, beyond which stood her lover.
Ah! it was pretty, Eunice! The hedges
were red in the evening glow, red streams
of light ran down the hills upon the heather,
and even the cattle seemed stained. I was
so happy, dear! What your lover has said
to you, more, much more, mine then said to
me. I love the very dress I heard it in.
Ah, me, me!"

"You never told me," whispered Eunice,
great tears dropping from her eyes.

"What should I tell you? That, after
this day, there arose something that chilled
me, as cold and invisible as a wind? That,
evening after evening, through the red
light, the old sweet dream passed further
away? He let it pass, as though it had
never been, and ignored it all. He went
away, without one more word, and I stood
on the beach and watched the boat go. The
waves receded from me, leaving the stones
wet with what had been there. They
seemed to be following him, I thoughtgoing
westward, as his boat had gone. There
is no more, Eunice; you know his name."

"No, no, no!" cried Eunice. " Oh, dear
Belle, say it was not he!"

"It was Jack," said Belle. And then there
came on a great paroxysm of her old pain,
and we were told she would probably not
last out the night. Delirium took possession
of her. She talked again of the broken,
white wings, of her mother and Eunice, of
the waves and Jack.

"Jack! Jack! Jack!" till one's heart
ached at the sound.

We tried at last, bringing him to her.
But it was too late then. She lay in a sort
of trance, from which she never woke.

She died while the sea was still rough
and the current strong; with the moonlight
she had loved, shining on her face.

Jack saw her often thus. The dead girl
lying so white and still, had recovered all
her old power. The greatest beauty in the
land could only keep her lover at her side,
and through all the long hours poor Belle
could do this. Jack, as he held her clasped
in his arms, now loved her as vainly as she
had loved him.

"I didn't know it was in me to love any
one as I do you, Belle!"

So he moaned. It seemed to me that
the dead girl spoke, and I knew, for
certain now, who had said those words.

I had a long talk with Eunice, and
explained to her Curzon's motives, and the
mercenary spirit that had risen in his
breast against love; but she knew it all
now as well as I did, knew that the imaginary
case he had put to her was his own,
and never exchanged another word with

Later, Frogmore made his long- deferred
proposal, but was not, to my sorrow,
accepted. I left Devonshire after this, and
the others scattered: Eunice going home to
her father. Just before I left, she came
and hung round my neck, smoothing my
hair with her soft hands, and speaking in
a pathetic voice.

"I shall never marry," she said. " Belle
rises between me and Jack. And, besides, I
know that he never loved me."

"But Captain Frogmore," I said, eager
for her answer.

"Oh no, oh no!" cried she, and was still
so crying when I left her.

Several years later, returning to England,
after a long absence, I found a letter awaiting
me from my Devonshire hostess, asking
me again to her country-house.

"Eunice is here," she wrote, "and I
know you will like to see her."

And truly, when I drove up the long
avenue to the house, there was Eunice in
the verandah, with her dark eyes shining
as in the olden times. And a little, fearless
child came running out at the door, putting
up her arms to be taken in mine, and
holding out her mouth to be kissed.

"What is your name, little darling?"!
asked. " Whose dear little girl are you?"

"Mamma's little girl," said the little
dark-eyed thing, " and papa's Pussy, and
my name is Belle Frogmore."

              On Saturday 7th August, 1869,
Will be commenced in " ALL THE YEAR ROUND:"
By the Author of " AUNT MARGARET'S TROUBLE."
                   A NEW SERIAL STORY,
To be continued from week to week until completed.

Now Ready, price 5s. 6d., bound in green cloth,
                     THE FIRST VOLUME
                  OF THE NEW SERIES OF
                    ALL THE YEAR ROUND.
                  To be had of all Booksellers.