Happily for me, Mary seemed equally desirous with myself to cultivate an acquaintance. This so quickly ripened into a loving friendship that it soon became a matter of course that we should not be many days apart. It was but seldom Mary could leave home to spend any time with me, but Mrs. Lister made me very welcome to her house, for Mary, she said, had no companions, and she was so glad she had found a friend at last. Thus it came about that often for days together I was kept, not at all against my will, at the home of the Listers. Thus, also, I came to know that the enemy which had blighted my home-happiness, and darkened all my prospects, had invaded their domestic Eden, and clouded the otherwise joyous spirit of my friend.

CHAPTER II.

WATCHING IN VAIN.

I have had wounds, and some that never heal,
What bodies suffer, and what spirits feel;

But he is gone who gave them, he is fled
To his account! and my revenge is dead.

CRABBE.

NE moonlight autumn night the inhabitants of a farm-house about a mile from Newburn were roused from their slumbers by some neighbouring workmen bearing in their arms the wounded and apparently lifeless body of a man whom they had found upon the road. The master of the farm was not at home, and his wife, Mrs. Dent, who with her servantgirl had hastened to the door, at first shrank from admitting strangers into the house at so late an hour, for it was near midnight.

"Here's a man dying, or dead already," said the foremost of the group, "Will ye let us bring him in, mistress, and see if there be any signs o' life in him?”

Mrs. Dent now recognised in the speaker an acquaintance of her husband's, and her scruples vanished he more entirely that at this moment a faint groan

from the wounded man testified that he was still alive. She motioned the men forward with their burden, which they carefully laid upon a couch in the old-fashioned parlour to which she led them. The girl had brought a light, and Mrs. Dent tremblingly drew near the circle. "Who is it, and where did you find him?" she asked, as she approached. The men were about to answer, when, starting back with a gesture of horror, Mrs. Dent exclaimed,

"I do believe it's my poor master, Mr. Lister!"

"Whoever it is, mistress, it's all over with him for this world, I'm afeard;" said one of the men in a low tone; "he's shot through the breast, I believe. We were just coming home from Newburn when we heard the sound of a pistol, and when we got to the place where it seemed to come from, found the poor man moaning fearfully. There was no other creature near, and this pistol," producing one from his pocket, "was lying beside him. But are ye sure you know him,

mistress?"

"O yes, I know him too well, it's poor Mr. Lister," said Mrs. Dent, in a tone of distress. "Can it be possible he's done it with his own hand ?"

Again Mrs. Dent, scrutinized the features of the sufferer. It was only to turn with new horror from the spectacle, and with a certainty of the truth that caused her to wring her hands in wild distress as she cried aloud

"O my poor dear missis, and her daughter!"

"I fear there's little doubt but he's done it himself," said the former speaker; "there was no chance for any one to escape after we heard the shot. We've lost no time in coming to the nearest house, and by this I hope the doctor's on the road, for a neighbour o' mine turned back to beg him to come at once. You see, mistress, we felt sure you'd never turn the poor man from your door."

"Dear, dear," moaned Mrs. Dent," "what shall we do? Shall we send for his poor wife at once, or wait till the doctor comes?',

"Better wait I think," replied the man, "he may

think there's no need to send at all."

"Yes, in case the poor gentleman shouldn't live till he comes; but then," she added shudderingly," who can tell them? How shall we break the news to the poor lady and her daughter ?"

There had been no evidence of life since the groan uttered by the poor man in the porch, until now, when, as if conscious of the tenor of Mrs. Dent's words, he opened his eyes and turned an appealing look towards her. Shocked and agitated as she was, she summoned up sufficient composure to address him, and tenderly inquired if she could do anything for him. There was a sudden quivering of the eyelids, and an apparent effort to speak which ended in a deep sigh, and again the eyes closed and all was still

save the breathing which had now become more audible.

They stood watching-the good woman and the men who had carried the dying one there, listening painfully for the doctor's coming, and every moment expecting to see the last struggle, or to hear the rattling breath that often bespeaks dissolution. Welcome was the sound of feet on the little garden path, and quickly was the surgeon ushered into the room. He tried the pulse of the dying man, and proceeded to other examinations, which, from the shake of the head with which they concluded, gave no encouragement to hope. The languid eyes indeed opened once more, and the long piteous gaze fell on the faces around, but no word issued from the lips, no effort even was made at

utterance.

The doctor had some acquaintance with the Listers, and, talking apart, Mrs. Dent and he settled that it would be best to send immediately, lest it should be too late. It was more than a mile to "The Cottage," the name by which Mrs. Lister's residence was known. So Tom the ploughboy was roused from sleep, and desired to get ready the light spring cart, and Mrs. Dent, who was formerly a servant of Mrs. Lister's, undertook the task of communicating the dreadful event to her "poor dear missis," and of bringing her to the farm at once if she was able to come. The kind-hearted woman was soon on her way, her heart