a
water-soldier, a real Stratiotes aculeatus in your lake. May we get
it? Mr. Dutton didn't think we ought, but it would be such a prize!'

'Ursula means a rare water-plant,' said Mrs. Egremont gently, seeing
that Lady Kirkaldy had no notion of the treasure she possessed. 'She
and some of her friends are very eager botanists.'

'I am sure you may,' said the lady, amused.

'Thank you! Then, O mother! Miss Mary and I will go. And we'll wait
till after office hours, and then Gerard Godfrey can come and fish it
out for us! Oh, thank you. He wants the pattern of the Abbot's cross
for an illumination, and he can get some ferns for the church.'

Soon after this ebullition, Lady Kirkaldy carried off her nephew, and
his first utterance outside the door was 'A woman like that will be the
salvation of my uncle.'

'Firstly, if you can bring them together,' said his aunt; 'and
secondly, if there is stuff enough in that pretty creature.'

CHAPTER V.

SUSPENSE.

'Where shall the traitor rest
He, the deceiver?'--SCOTT.

Poor Miss Headworth's peace of mind was utterly destroyed. That the
niece whom she had nursed back to life and happiness, and brought to
love her as a mother, should be at the mercy of a man whom she looked
on as a heartless profligate, was dreadful to her beyond measure. And
it involved Ursula's young life likewise? Could it be a duty, after
these eighteen years, to return to him? What legal rights had he to
enforce the resumption of the wife he had deserted. 'I will consult
Mr. Dutton,' said the old lady to herself; 'Mr. Dutton is the only
person who knows the particulars. He will give me the best advice.'

And while Miss Headworth, over her evening toilette, was coming to this
resolution in one bedroom, Nuttie, in another, was standing aghast at
her mother's agitation, and receiving a confession which filled her
with astonishment.

'I can't think why that gentleman should go and be so affectionate all
on a sudden, 'quoth Nuttie;' if he is my cousin, and so fond of you,
why couldn't he have come to see us before?'

'Oh, Nuttie, dear, you don't understand why it is so good of him! My
dear, now this has come, I must tell you--you must hear--the sad thing
your mother did. Yes, my dear, I was their governess--and--and I did
not--In short, my dear, I eloped.'

'You, mother! Oh what fun!' cried the girl in the utter extremity of
wonder.

'Nuttie!' exclaimed Mrs. Egremont, in a