. "But," he continued, "the evil day must be no
longer deferred. I will try and find out every shilling I owe. It will be
more than I expect, I dare say, yet my commission ought to cover it, and,
altogether, I shall probably save enough out of the fire to be a small
capitalist in Australia. Much as I hate it, I must cut the service, for
if my debts were paid to-morrow I should have just as many in two years.
Dearest Cecil, I know you do not exactly hate me; I wish I were more
worthy of the affection of such a dear, true-hearted girl. Will you trust
me, Cecil, and believe in me a little longer, even if I say no more at
present? I don't think your father likes me; I wish now he did. Let me
see your dear handwriting soon. I believe you have more head than any
girl I know, and more heart, too; and no one can appreciate your sense
and affection more than yours, ever devotedly,

"A. Du MERESQ."

Cecil rode thoughtfully on, as she turned the letter over in her mind,
trying to penetrate Bertie's meaning.

"Why does he not speak out more plainly?" thought she. "He will never be
any richer unless he marries me, so it is useless waiting for that. I
will not, any how, be in too great a hurry to understand him this time.
If his debts are paid, and he leaves the army soon, he must say more--or
nothing." And at that chance Cecil turned rather pale, and giving Wings
his head, who had been fretting some time, started off at a good
refreshing galop. They were on the race course now, and, excited by the
turf, he gave her quite enough to do to hold him.

"What fun station-life must be," thought she. "Always riding in a wild,
strange country,--birds, animals, plants, scenery, and ideas, all
different and unhackneyed. Canada is well enough, but it mimics England
too much, and is fifty years behind it." Before she got home, she had
composed a clear-headed and sympathetic, but not at all lover-like,
letter to Bertie, who was disappointed at the tone of it; and--"as the
nymph flies, the swain pursues"--he wrote a much more affectionate one
back, and then Cecil suffered her thoughts to take a more decided shape,
and they dwelt especially on a "lodge in some vast wilderness" of her
colonial paradise,--picturesque, but not luxurious--an exquisite climate,
and Bertie combining the life of a happy hunter and enterprising
colonist, returning to sup on a kangaroo steak, and to wake up to another
day of movement and adventure.

Cecil passed a grea