which stood tears upon Leonard's ingenuous brow.

"Oh, my dear Lord, what else can it be? Do not judge her harshly."

L'Estrange arose abruptly, pressed Leonard's hand, muttered something not
audible, and then drawing his young friend's arm in his, led him into the
garden, and turned the conversation back to its former topics.

Leonard's heart yearned to ask after Helen, and yet something withheld
him from doing so, till, seeing Harley did not volunteer to speak of her,
he could not resist his impulse. "And Helen--Miss Digby--is she much
changed?"

"Changed, no--yes; very much."

"Very much!" Leonard sighed.

"I shall see her again?"

"Certainly," said Harley, in a tone of surprise. "How can you doubt it?
And I reserve to you the pleasure of saying that you are renowned. You
blush; well, I will say that for you. But you shall give her your
books."

"She has not yet read them, then?--not the last? The first was not
worthy of her attention," said Leonard, disappointed. "She has only just
arrived in England; and, though your books reached me in Germany, she was
not then with me. When I have settled some business that will take me
from town, I shall present you to her and my mother." There was a
certain embarrassment in Harley's voice as he spoke; and, turning round