In another minute my familiar landlady, walking on the other side of my mother-in-law, decided the question for me. I happened to say that I supposed we must by that time be near the end of our walk-the little watering-place called Broadstairs. 'Oh, no, Mrs. Woodville!' cried the irrepressible woman, calling me by my name, as usual; 'nothing like so near as you think!'

I looked with a beating heart at the old lady.

To my unutterable amazement, not the faintest gleam of recognition appeared in her face. Old Mrs. Woodville went on talking to young Mrs. Woodville just as composedly as if she had never heard her own name before in her life!

My face and manner must have betrayed something of the agitation that I was suffering. Happening to look at me at the end of her next sentence, the old lady started, and said in her kindly way,

'I am afraid you have over-exerted yourself. You are very pale-you are looking quite exhausted. Come and sit down. here; let me lend you my smelling-bottle.'

I followed her, quite helplessly, to the base of the cliff. Some fallen fragments of chalk offered us a seat. I vaguely heard the voluble landlady's expressions of sympathy and regret; I mechanically took the smelling-bottle which my husband's mother offered to me, after hearing my name, as an act of kindness to a stranger.

If I had only had myself to think of, I believe I should have provoked an explanation on the spot. But I had Eustace to think of. I was entirely ignorant of the relations, hostile or friendly, which existed between his mother and himself. What could I do?

In the mean time, the old lady was still speaking to me with the most considerate sympathy. She too was fatigued, she said. She had passed a weary night at the bedside of a near relative, staying at Ramsgate, Only the day before, she

had received a telegram announcing that one of her sisters was seriously ill. She was herself, thank God, still active and strong; and she had thought it her duty to start at once for Ramsgate. Towards the morning the state of the patient had improved. The doctor assures me, ma'am, that there is no immediate danger; and I thought it might revive me, after my long night at the bedside, if I took a little walk on the beach.'

I heard the words-I understood what they meant-but I was still too bewildered and too intimidated by my extraordinary position to be able to continue the conversation. The landlady had a sensible suggestion to make; the landlady was the next person who spoke.

'Here is a gentleman coming,' she said to me, pointing in the direction of Ramsgate. 'You can never walk back. Shall we ask him to send a chaise from Broadstairs to the the cliff?'

The gentleman advanced a little nearer.

.

gap in

The landlady and I recognised him at the same moment. It was Eustace coming to meet us, as we had arranged. The irrepressible landlady gave the freest expression to her feelings. 'Oh, Mrs. Woodville, ain't it lucky? here is Mr. Woodville himself!'

Once more I looked at my mother-in-law. Once more the name failed to produce the slightest effect on her. Her sight was not so keen as ours; she had not recognised her son yet. He had young eyes like us, and he recognised his mother. For a moment he stopped like a man thunderstruck. Then he came on his face white with suppressed emotion, his eyes fixed on his mother.

'You here?' he said to her.

'How do you do, Eustace?' she quietly rejoined. 'Have you heard of your aunt's illness, too? Did you know she was staying at Ramsgate ?'

He made no answer.

The landlady, drawing the inevitable

inference from the words she had just heard, looked from me to my mother-in-law in a state of amazement, which paralysed even her tongue. I waited, with my eyes on my husband, to see what he would do. If he had delayed acknowledging me another moment, the whole future course of my life might have been altered-I should have despised him.

He did not delay. He came to my side and took my hand.

'Do you know who this is?' he said to his mother.

She answered, looking at me with a courteous bend of her head,

'A lady I met on the beach, Eustace, who kindly restored to me a letter that I dropped. I think I heard the name' (she turned to the landlady): Mrs. Woodville, was it not?'

My husband's fingers unconsciously closed on my hand with a grasp that hurt me. He set his mother right, it is only just to say, without one cowardly moment of hesitation.

'Mother,' he said to her, very quietly, this lady is my wife.'

She had hitherto kept her seat. She now rose slowly and faced her son in silence. The first expression of surprise passed from her face. It was succeeded by the most terrible look of mingled indignation and contempt that I ever saw in a woman's eyes.

'I pity your wife,' she said.

With those words, and no more, lifting her hand she waved him back from her, and went on her way again, as we had first found her, alone.

CHAPTER IV.

ON THE WAY HOME.

LEFT by ourselves, there was a moment of silence amongst us. Eustace spoke first.

'Are you able to walk back?' he said to me. 'Or shall we go on to Broadstairs, and return to Ramsgate by the railway?'

He put those questions as composedly, so far as his manner was concerned, as if nothing remarkable had happened. But his eyes and his lips betrayed him. They told me that he was suffering keenly in secret. The extraordinary scene that had just passed, far from depriving me of the last remains of my courage, had strung up my nerves and restored my selfpossession. I must have been more or less than woman if my self-respect had not been wounded, if my curiosity had not been wrought to the highest pitch, by the extraordinary conduct of my husband's mother when Eustace presented me to her. What was the secret of her despising him, and pitying me? Where was the explanation of her incomprehensible apathy when my name was twice pronounced in her hearing? Why had she left us, as if the bare idea of remaining in our company was abhorrent to her? The foremost interest of my life was now the interest of penetrating these mysteries. Walk I was in such a fever of expectation that I felt as if I could have walked to the world's end, if I could only keep my husband by my side, and question him on the way!

'I am quite recovered,' I said. 'Let us go back, as we came, on foot.'

Eustace glanced at the landlady. The landlady understood him.

'I won't intrude my company on you, sir,' she said, sharply. 'I have some business to do at Broadstairs-and, now I am so near, I may as well go on. Good morning, Mrs. Woodville.'

She laid a marked emphasis on my name; and she added one significant look at parting, which (in the preoccupied state of my mind at that moment) I entirely failed to comprehend. There was neither time nor opportunity to ask her what she meant. With a stiff little bow, addressed to Eustace, she left us as his mother had left us; taking the way to Broadstairs, and walking rapidly.

At last, we were alone.

I lost no time in beginning my inquiries; I wasted no words in prefatory phrases. In the plainest terms I put the question to him,—

'What does your mother's conduct mean?'

Instead of answering, he burst into a fit of laughter-loud, coarse, hard laughter, so utterly unlike any sound I had ever yet heard issue from his lips, so strangely and shockingly foreign to his character as I understood it, that I stood still on the sands, and openly remonstrated with him.

'Eustace! you are not like yourself,' I said. 'You almost frighten me.'

He took no notice. He seemed to be pursuing some pleasant train of thought just started in his mind.

'So like my mother!' he exclaimed, with the air of a man who felt irresistibly diverted by some humorous idea of his own. Tell me all about it, Valeria!'

'Tell you?' I repeated.

After what has happened, surely

it is your duty to enlighten me.'

'You don't see the joke?' he said.

'I not only fail to see the joke,' I rejoined, 'I see something in your mother's language and your mother's behaviour which justifies me in asking you for a serious explanation.'

'My dear Valeria! if you understood my mother as well