trained to climb up a foot or so of the massive buttresses. The site
of the burial-ground was unusually picturesque: sheltered towards the
north by a rising ground clothed with woods, sloping down at the south
towards the glebe pasture-grounds through which ran the brooklet,
sufficiently near for its brawling gurgle to be heard on a still day.
Kenelm sat himself on an antique tomb, which was evidently
appropriated to some one of higher than common rank in bygone days,
but on which the sculpture was wholly obliterated.

The stillness and solitude of the place had their charms for his
meditative temperament; and he remained there long, forgetful of time,
and scarcely hearing the boom of the clock that warned him of its
lapse.

When suddenly, a shadow--the shadow of a human form--fell on the grass
on which his eyes dreamily rested. He looked up with a start, and
beheld Lily standing before him mute and still. Her image was so
present in his thoughts at the moment that he felt a thrill of awe, as
if the thoughts had conjured up her apparition. She was the first to
speak.

"You here, too?" she said very softly, almost whisperingly. "Too!"
echoed Kenelm, rising; "too! 'Tis no wonder that I, a stranger to the
place, should find my steps attracted towards its most venerable
building. Even the most careless traveller, halting at some remote
abodes of the living, turns aside to gaze on the burial-ground of the
dead. But my surprise is that you, Miss Mordaunt, should be attracted
towards the same spot."

"It is my favourite spot," said Lily, "and always has been. I have