g in the wind, a recollection returned upon his mind
with some of the dignity of prophecy. Had he not promised Somerset to
break with the traditions of the commonplace, and to accept the first
adventure offered? Well, here was the adventure.

He thrust the money into his pocket.

"My name is Challoner," said he.

"Mr. Challoner," she replied, "you have come very generously to my aid
when all was against me. Though I am myself a very humble person, my
family commands great interest; and I do not think you will repent this
handsome action."

Challoner flushed with pleasure.

"I imagine that, perhaps, a consulship," she added, her eyes dwelling on
him with a judicial admiration, "a consulship in some great town or
capital--or else----But we waste time; let us set about the work of my
delivery."

She took his arm with a frank confidence that went to his heart; and
once more laying by all serious thoughts, she entertained him, as they
crossed the park, with her agreeable gaiety of mind. Near the Marble
Arch they found a hansom, which rapidly conveyed them to the terminus at
Euston Square; and here, in the hotel, they sat down to an excellent
breakfast. The young lady's first step was to call for writing
materials, and write, upon one corner of the table, a hasty note; still,
as she did so, glancing with smiles at her companion. "Here," said she,
"here is the letter which will introduce you to my cousin." She began to
fold the paper. "My cousin, although I have never seen her, has the
character of a very charming woman and a recognised beauty; of that I
know nothing, but at least she has been very kind to me; so has my lord
her father; so have you--kinder than all--kinder than I can bear to
think of." She said this with unusual emotion; and, at the same time,
sealed the envelope. "Ah!" she cried, "I have shut my letter! It is not
quite courteous; and yet, as between friends, it is perhaps better so. I
introduce you, after all, into a family secret; and though you and I are
already old comrades, you are still unknown to my uncle. You go, then,
to this address, Richard Street, Glasgow; go, please, as soon as you
arrive; and give this letter with your own hands into those of Miss
Fonblanque, for that is the name by which she is to pass. When we next
meet, you will tell me what you think of her," she added, with a touch
of the provocative.

"Ah," said Challoner, almost tenderly, "she can be nothing to me."

"You do not