errand that we now behold her. It is characteristic of
the Harry whom we once knew that she permits these young people to
accompany her--and one another--on the very quest that has their final
separation for its object. She can not resist making them happy while
she can; and she can refuse her Charley nothing. Moreover, Solomon is in
the City, looking after his mining interests, and need never know.

In appearance, however, Harry Trevethick is greatly changed. She is but
seven-and-thirty, yet has already passed into the shade of middle life.
Her hair, though still in profusion, is tinged with gray; her features
are worn and sharp; her brow is wrinkled; and in her once trustful eyes
dwells a certain eager care, not mere distress or trouble, but an
anxiety which is almost Fear.

The three are now in one of the streets which unite Cavendish Square
with Oxford Street, as a busy babbling rill connects the unruffled lake
with the roaring river. It is composed both of shops and private houses,
the latter of which in some cases deign, notwithstanding their genteel
appearance, to accommodate visitors by the week or month.

"This is the sort of locality your father wished for, Charley," remarked
Mrs. Coe, looking about her; "it seems central, and yet tolerably quiet.
Let us try this house."

The name of "Basil," without prefix, was engraved upon the door-plate;
and in a corner of the dining-room window lurked an enameled card with
"Apartments" on it.

"There is no need to drag Agnes and you in," Mrs. Coe went on, as they
stood waiting for the bell to be answered. So Charles, well pleased, was
left outside with the young girl, while his mother "went over the
house." In a few minutes, however, she reappeared, and in a somewhat
hurried and excited tone observed, "I think this place will do, my
dears; but there is a good deal to talk about and settle, which will
take me some time. Therefore I think you had better go home together,
and leave me." Then, without waiting for a reply, she retired within and
closed the door.

"How very curious!" exclaimed Agnes, wondering.

"Oh, not at all," said the young man, cheerfully; "my mother likes to do
things for herself, and I dare say has not a very high opinion of our
judgment in domestic matters. You don't seem over-pleased, it seems to
me, Agnes, at the notion of a _tete-a-tete_ with your humble servant;"
and Mr. Charles pouted, half in fun and half with annoyance.

"No, no; it is