other's--to appreciate, admire,
revere the Lofty and the Beautiful, but humbly and meekly. There was no
vivid enthusiasm, no remark of striking originality, no flash of the
self-kindling, creative faculty. Lastly, Egerton turned to England--to the
critical nature of the times--to the claims which the country possessed
upon all who had the ability to serve and guide its troubled destinies. He
enlarged warmly on Harley's natural talents, and rejoiced that he had
returned to England, perhaps to commence some great career. Helen looked
surprised, but her face caught no correspondent glow from Audley's
eloquence. He rose, and an expression of disappointment passed over his
grave, handsome features, and as quickly vanished.

"Adieu! my dear Miss Digby; I fear I have wearied you, especially with my
politics. Adieu, Lady Lansmere; no doubt I shall see Harley as soon as he
returns."

Then he hastened from the room, gained his carriage, and ordered the
coachman to drive to Downing-street. He drew down the blinds, and leaned
back. A certain languor became visible in his face, and once or twice he
mechanically put his hand to his heart.

"She is good, amiable, docile--will make an excellent wife, no doubt," said
he murmuringly. "But does she love Harley as he has dreamed of love? No!
Has she power and energy to arouse his faculties, and restore to the world
the Harley of old? No! Meant by Heaven to be the shadow of another's
sun--not herself the sun--this child is not the one who can atone for the
Past and illume the Future."

Chapter VII.

That evening Harley L'Estrange arrived at his father's house. The few
years that had passed since we saw him last, had made no perceptible
change in his appearance. He still preserved his elastic youthfulness of
form, and singular variety and play of countenance. He seemed unaffectedly
rejoiced to greet his parents, and had something of the gayety and the
tenderness of a boy returned from school. His manner to Helen bespoke the
chivalry that pervaded all the complexities and curves of his character.
It was affectionate, but respectful. Hers to him, subdued--but innocently
sweet and gently cordial. Harley was the chief talker. The aspect of the
times was so critical, that he could not avoid questions on politics; and,
indeed, he showed an interest in them which he had never evinced before.
Lord Lansmere was delighted.

"Why, Harley, you love your country, after all?"

"The moment