easure imparted by the mere presence of the
beautiful girl, though he hardly dared even to look at her; and she was
the only person whose voice was silent in the chorus of congratulation,
on the wonderful chance that had brought the aunt and nephew together.
The one had been a fortnight at Beauchastel, the other a month at
Ebbscreek, without guessing at each other's neighbourhood, until Lady
Conway's attention had been attracted at the library by Louis's
remarkable resemblance to her sister, and making inquiries, she had
learnt that he was no other than Lord Fitzjocelyn. She was enchanted
with the likeness, declaring that all she wished was to see him look
less delicate, and adding her entreaties to those of Mrs. Mansell, that
the two young men would come at once to Beauchastel.

Louis looked with wistful doubt at James, who, he knew, could not brook
going to fine places in the character of tutor; but, to his surprise
and pleasure, James was willing and eager, and made no demur, except
that Fitzjocelyn could not walk so far, and the boat was gone out.
Mrs. Mansell then proposed the ensuing Monday, when, she said, she and
Mr. Mansell should be delighted to have them to meet a party of
shooting gentlemen--of course they were sportsmen. Louis answered at
once for James; but for himself, he could not walk, nor even ride the
offered shooting-pony; and thereupon ensued more minute questions
whether his ankle were still painful.

'Not more than so as to be a useful barometer. I have been testing it
by the sea-weeds. If I am good for nothing else, I shall be a walking
weather-glass, as well as a standing warning against man-traps.'

'You don't mean that you fell into a man-trap!' exclaimed Mrs. Mansell,
in horror. 'That will be a warning for Mr. Mansell! I have such a
dread of the frightful things!'

'A trap ingeniously set by myself,' said Louis. 'I was only too glad
no poor poacher fell into it.'

'Your father told me that it was a fall down a steep bank,' exclaimed
Lady Conway.

'Exactly so; but I suppose he thought it for my credit to conceal that
my trap consisted of a flight of stone stops, very solid and permanent,
with the trifling exception of cement.'

'If the truth were known,' said James, 'I believe that a certain scamp
of a boy was at the bottom of those steps.'

'I'm the last person to deny it,' said Louis, quietly, though not
without rising colour, 'there was a scamp of a boy at the bottom of the