ing had thought more of the daring than the seamanship of Mavesyn, now gave all their praise to the skill with which he managed the labouring Mayflower. When arrived nearly opposite Stokebree, it was thought by the sailors that there would be considerable risk in landing the ladies on the beach; and the dexterous manner in which he then went about and ran for Exmouth, showed that he was no fair-weather sailor.

When arrived in the river, the ladies were soon landed; and Mavesyn having to take his yacht to a fitting mooring-place, it was left to Colonel St. Colmo to see Junie and her companions to the hotel, where they were to await for her brother; and they soon all set off in the carriages provided for them.

It had been a day of disquiet and disappointment to Junie; and her brother's rough and ungovernable temper, at times peeping forth, had filled her mind with dread. By a

morbid captiousness, he seemed to resent every word she spoke to others; and while, by a strange watchfulness, her every action seemed made known to him, some—and those the most insignificant-appeared to fill him with anger. And yet, through all this vein of dark humour, there beamed forth such warm and thoughtful affection, that she shrank with self-accusings of ingratitude and coldheartedness.

There was one bright gleam of hope, however, which illumined her dark and tired spirits, as with an anxious heart she that night sought her pillow; and all the discomfort caused by her brother's wayward humour could not darken it. Colonel St. Colmo had snatched an opportunity of telling her that he found it impossible longer to dissimulate and hide his affection for herself; and that on the morrow he had resolved to ask her brother's consent to their union.

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CHAPTER VIII.

"Soul of our souls! and safeguard of the world! Sustain-Thou only canst-the sick at heart." WORDSWORTH.

THE next morning was marked by storms and rain. Mavesyn seldom joined the ladies before luncheon; for not only did he dislike Mrs. Beresford, but the usually open heart of that lady seemed closed against him. Why this was, Junie could not quite disSometimes she thought it might be owing to his having one day most ruthlessly gathered together all the crochet-nets placed

cover.

on the chairs and sofas; and after throwing them out of window, declared they made the room look like a laundry, and that, for his part, he liked fine linen dried out of doors. At another time she fancied that there might be a little jealousy in Mrs. Beresford's feelings, as she always showed more coldness and asperity at those moments when, for some act of attention and kindness from her, he offered any little caress in acknowledgment. This was so manifest, that at times when Mavesyn would bend down as if to kiss his sister's gentle forehead, the disapproving looks of Mrs. Beresford would withhold him.

Mavesyn was by no means scrupulous in showing a decided dislike to the companion; and had once or twice suggested the superfluous nature of such a member of the household, declaring that he detested her-that

she stuck as close to them as a monkey to a cocoa-nut-that he was sure she was a spy -and that he should give her a hint to make herself scarce.

On this morning Mavesyn entered their work-room soon after breakfast; and throwing himself on the sofa, asked Junie if she had recovered her fright, with more of kindness in his manner than usual; and then again relapsing into ill-humour, proclaimed by his frowning forehead, began rather a growling review of all the people who had composed the pic-nic party; urging with rather energetic language, that after all the pleasure he had provided them, he would be shot if there was one who cared a cent for him. He then added, how glad he should be to cut and run from them all; asking Junie how she should like to go to Paris.

"Justin!" the sister reproachfully whis

VOL. II.