HIS same morning, after the ball, he was par

THIS

taking of a lonely breakfast in his rooms in Trinity College, Dublin. Lonely! Yes, so far as one like him may be lonely. So far as one may be lonely who belonged to two distinct worldsthe world he lived in and was so dissatisfied with, and the world that lived within him, of spiritual beauty and of hidden happiness, wherein, upon an unseen support, his glad soul reposed, waiting with a trust which was born of truest love. The morning

meal finished, he arose from an easy-chair, and attended to the wants of two glorious-throated canaries carolling and rejoicing in the sunshine that poured its profuse golden stream through the halfopen window. A large and imperturbable cat, dozing on the window-sill, glanced with dignified restraint upon the restless, demonstrative birds, and closed his contented eyes. He was a very trustworthy cat! In spite of delicious temptations, he had never yet placed a covetous paw between the bars of that graceful cage. He seemed to have an understanding with his good master about the safety of these yellow warblers, and so confined himself to his proper vocation, in the pursuit of thoughtless mice. Noel d'Auvergne fed the birds, arranged their pretty prison, and, raising the sash still higher, hung the cage upon a convenient nail fastened outside the window for that purpose. Doing so, a bunch of primroses got detached from his breast, and fell in a rapid shower to the ground beneath. An acquaintance, crossing the quadrangle, ran boyishly over, picked them up, touched his lips with them gaily, and carried them away, smiling step by step to himself over his fragrant spoil. D'Auvergne nodded and kissed his hands, and proceeded to feed that philosophic-looking cat said animal taking his breakfast quietly, as he did most things. Then the postman came round and left a host of letters

C

which Noel read. Several were from students absent from town, requiring him to execute particular commissions, to send them a fishing-rod, or a newfashioned scarf, or the latest book out. He was a great favourite, and they did not hesitate about entrusting him with a sacred secret now and then. He exercised the same fascination over the colourless, pondering thinker, whose midnight lamp often paled before the triumphant light of dawn, and over the hearty athletic undergraduate who loved the oar, the racket-court, the cricket-field and the "noble art of self-defence" better than Newton's Principia, or Virgil's verse. In stature of middle height, broad-shouldered, swarthy-hued-sunshine has frequently played upon him-his forehead white, his sweet blue eyes sad, though in his heart dwells joy deep and undisturbed, his face stamped with the self-mastery of one who has suffered physically and mentally, and fears no suffering now-such is Noel d'Auvergne with his whiskerless face, so younglooking for one who has lived six-and-twenty years, and only adorned with a thick moustache, lighter than his brown, waving hair. Such is Noel d'Auvergne outwardly; to know a little of him inwardly, this story is offered to every indulgent reader.

Some one knocked at the door, exclaiming, "Are you up yet, D'Auvergne ?"

"Is it you so early! Come in, Harold,” he an

swered, throwing aside a letter he was reading more carefully than the others which had come to him by this morning's post.

"How fresh you look!" Leyne said gaily, perching himself at the same time upon the breakfasttable, first removing the china with one cautious sweep of his ready right arm. "Were you out

before breakfast?"

"I was," he replied.

"That explains your looking so well, after last night. By the way, rolling home in the carriage, my sisters closely questioned me about you, D'Auvergne.” Noel smiled. "I turned shamefully surly and silent, because I was dreadfully sleepy, and would not answer. To make up, however, for my silence and surliness, I said I would bring you out to our place to-day. I have a spare saddle, you know, and bridle, and a spare steed, Noel, to put them We can have a canter in the fields together. What answer will you give me? You will come ?" "With pleasure."

on.

"My mother will have luncheon prepared when we return, or perhaps, before we go. In the afternoon I will give you full liberty to depart and get thirsty and tired over Coke and Blackstone, for the rest of the day. I am aware you are busy preparing for an important examination, and I won't, of course, ask you to stay the evening."

"Very well."

The quiet smile upon D'Auvergne's sunburnt countenance broadened and became more beautiful, and the two friends saw for an instant into the great depths of each other's eyes, with a mutual gleam of pleasant recognition. "Since this is arranged satisfactorily," Leyne said, "you had better come with me at once to the lecture, or we shall surely be somewhat late. Though that does not matter much," he added, "we'll trust to the charitable short-sightedness of dear Doctor A."

D'Auvergne, going straightway into another adjoining room, re-appeared, dressed in his college garb.

"You glide about as if some one was asleep there," Leyne remarked.

"Oranmore came home with me last night," Noel said unconcernedly. "I gave him a bed. He is in that room."

"He sleeps soundly," the other added.

"Yes, indeed! He danced a great deal: he always does I need not tell you. So, He will find breakfast here. Come along, Harold," he replied, a little bitterly.

"Where is your home?" Leyne one day asked him.

This is my home, Leyne," D'Auvergne suddenly responded, glancing round his book-laden chamber;