CHAPTER XIV.

"I love her, although she can never be more Than a beautiful vision to me,

A vessel that touched at a desolate shore,

And then swept o'er the fathomless sea;

And though when she has gone to the home of her heart,

O'er my spirit a shadow will creep,

I will lighten the sorrow and lessen the smart

By the image I ever will keep.

And the only return that I ask as the due

Of a love that for ever will beat,

Is a stray thought sometimes for a heart that rings true,
And a smile when we happen to meet."

J. W. FLETCHER.

ETHEL had now returned to her home, and to renewed persecutions from her step-mother, whose dislike had only strengthened by her absence. Mr. Woodville had by no means softened matters by his repeated allusions to the many attentions and comforts which he now found it had been Ethel's care to provide for him; and he took a malicious pleasure in telling his wife how much better his daughter managed than herself. This was always sure to bring an angry reply from Mrs. Woodville, and was frequently the beginning of a sharp contention between them; thus day by day things in Park Row were assuming a more formidable aspect. In this state Ethel found them;

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and in many respects she would have been truly thankful had some other path of duty been opened for her, by which the disagreeable necessity might be averted for returning home. But she submitted patiently, knowing that whatever way God pleased was always the best; and as her days passed on, she found irksome duties grow less painful as more strength was vouchsafed wherewith to resist the temptation to impatience.

Miss Hackett had saved one thousand pounds, and this was left to Ethel, with the thoughtful provision, that should she need it before coming of age, it was to be made payable through Mr. Bevan or the other executor: this, together with some valuable jewels, placed Ethel in a more independent position, and for this she felt thankful, since she had reason to fear the expensive habits in which her father indulged, together with the wine-parties he gave, would soon entangle his affairs, and then Mrs. Woodville's property, which was settled on herself, would be all that remained, and Ethel would not feel comfortable in the thought of being altogether dependent for either Minnie or herself upon her. She endured with the most untiring patience the incessant vexations and trials of everyday life; her every wish thwarted, and all wherein she had found solace at once peremptorily withdrawn from her. But still the bright ray had pierced her soul. Months before, Ada wrote that Herbert was a believer; but she said little else about him, and, of course, Ethel never dared to allude

to him in any way. The thought that he was a Christian had cheered her through many a weary day. Yet he never came to Thurlston; the beautiful place still remained closed, and there seemed no probability of the owner's return. It seemed strange,-as if there

were

some mysterious reason connected with it. Still it mattered not; if Herbert loved and feared God, Ethel was willing to cast aside her own happiness, and suppress the rising doubt, that if he had really loved her, would he so soon have ceased to remember, or to desire a renewal of their intercourse now that the barrier was removed? She endeavoured to drive all thoughts of this kind from her mind; if it were God's will Raymond would again seek her love, if not, some wise purpose was to be answered by it-some other way was to be opened for her usefulness in the world.

One evening, about two or three months after her return home, Mr. Woodville came in at tea-time unusually exhilarated and pleased about something. After it was over he took Ethel into the dining-room, and, carefully closing the door, sat down, and taking out his watch, said,

"I've not much time, so I must make short work of it. I've seen a friend of yours this afternoonBevan. He came to propose for your hand. It appears he's loved you for years, but hasn't been in circumstances to offer before. Since old Miss Hackett has dropped off, he comes in for somewhere about eighteen hundred a-year, and most of it in the funds, too: none of your confounded railway shares, or building companies; but all safe: and you ought to be much obliged to me for ascertaining this. It's a capital match for you," continued Mr. Woodville, rubbing his hands in glee. "Bevan's only a simpleton in many things, but he's one of you Christians, and head and ears over in love with you; so you'll have a jolly time of it. Well, seeing my advantage, I said, I couldn't let you marry without good settlements. I made no bones of the matter, and in

sisted on half the money being secured to you; the other half will be sufficient for the children. The man came down with his money just as I wished, and when I'd screwed him up pretty tight, I said he might take you. So you're engaged; and all you have to do is to tell him so to-night, for he's coming in a few minutes," said Mr. Woodville, thumping the table emphatically; as much as to defy a denial of his statement.

Ethel had grown pale at first, but the latter part of his sentence roused her indignation, and her eyes sparkled, and her cheek flushed with agitation.

"Really, papa, it seems a most extraordinary proceeding, that arrangements about settlements should be made before I had even had the subject mentioned to me, as if my consent had nothing to do with the matter! I think I might at least have been consulted previously!" she exclaimed, indignantly.

Mr. Woodville laughed ironically.

"Consulted! Come, child, no nonsense! Here's Bevan coming to do that, and talk about furnishing and so on that's all you women need care about!"

"You are very much mistaken. There are insuperable objections to my marrying Mr. Bevan, so that your arrangements are premature."

"And, pray, what are they? A vow of celibacy? This is the third offer I've refused for you, and men don't always speak to fathers first. Bevan is the only man I have liked of them. I had once thought higher things for you. Raymond was an admirer of yours, and had you given him proper encouragement he might have proposed; but you've done for yourself there, for there's some talk that he's going to be married, I hear. Bevan, therefore, you shall have! I warn you not to thwart me. And now, pray tell me

what are your objections?" he said, in a cold, cutting voice.

The blow to Ethel was almost overpowering. Raymond faithless! He who had declared he would never marry another! The colour faded from her cheek, and she became so pale and faint, she was obliged to rest on the back of her chair for support. Her father noticed the change, but attributed it to his threat, and his heart was slightly touched by what he deemed her fear of him.

"Come, Ethel, don't be foolish; act like a strongminded woman. I ask you once again, what are your objections to Bevan ?"

"I do not love him, papa," she replied, faintly; hardly knowing what she said, the report about Raymond's engagement so absorbing her.

"Love! Nonsense, child! Love in the beginning produces bitter indifference in the end; I speak from experience. If you have no other reason it is too trifling to be regarded. And, mark me, if you do not marry Bevan, your life will be a continual source of misery. How can you hesitate between what you have here, and what Bevan can provide for you? You will receive neither pity nor support from me, if you persist in your rejection," said Mr. Woodville, speaking coldly, but more kindly than Ethel could have expected.

Ethel rose, and placing herself by his side, said in a gentle tone, "Papa, do you wish me to leave you so much? Is my being at home a source of disquietude to you?"

"No! no! Really, Ethel, you are sentimental; this won't do. You are no trouble to me at home, but I would rather you were comfortably settled away from here, for many reasons. Therefore," he added, his