the month of april was nearing its close, and the party at middlemeads were beginning to think of separating, to meet again in the more exciting scenes of london life during the season.

a programme, including entertainments which should combine splendour and originality, to be given at the mansion in portland place, had been agreed upon, and perfect harmony reigned among the ladies. miss gould took a deep interest in the preparation of mrs. streightley's town-house, and had frequently accompanied katharine to town, when she visited portland place to give new orders and observe the fulfilment of old ones. katharine threw herself into this novel and decidedly exciting occupation with all the fervour of her age and character. she interpreted and acted upon robert's permission to do precisely as she pleased, to its fullest extent.

"please yourself, dear, and you will please me," he had said to her; "you know i have not much taste for such things."

"perhaps your mother--" katharine had considered it polite to say----

"o no," robert had answered hastily; "my mother would be less useful to you than myself. she has lived in a plain house and in a plain way all her life, and she would not in the least understand how the cage for so bright-plumaged a bird as you are should be decorated."

it was an awkward metaphor, an unfortunate pleasantry; and robert felt it so as soon as he had uttered it, and hastily left his wife on the plea of letters to be answered, having received the briefest, coldest acknowledgment from her of a permission on which she proceeded to act immediately with much animation and entire recklessness of expense. while she was engaged thus, and when the time for the removal of the establishment to town was drawing near, katharine learned that mrs. stanbourne had arrived in england, and was desirous of seeing her, and making the acquaintance of her husband. the letter which conveyed this intelligence to mrs. streightley was not altogether and heartily welcomed by her. the one single individual in the world for whom katharine felt perfect respect, respect in which her intellect was as active as her heart, was mrs. stanbourne; and yet, even though affection mingled largely with that sentiment, she could not feel real pleasure in the prospect of seeing her. she did not tell herself what it was she dreaded; but she knew in her heart that it was her true friend's clear-sightedness and her unbending rectitude. she had so shrunk from announcing her marriage to her, that mr. guyon had found himself obliged to undertake that very unpleasant task; a substitution which had surprised mrs. stanbourne much and hurt her a little; but she was a woman in whose disposition the small susceptibilities born of self-love had not much place, and she put the light mortification aside, and wrote to katharine just such a kind motherly letter as, under other circumstances, would have added to the happiness of a bride. but katharine had read it hurriedly, with a flushed brow, and her rich red lip caught under her white teeth, and had put it away out of her sight. nay more, she had put off answering it, until she might venture to disregard its tone and substance; and treating her marriage as an affair whose novelty had quite worn off, and to which any further reference would be out of place, had filled two sheets of paper with a pleasant, flippant account of her continental trip, and a lively sketch of some of the costumes which took her fancy among the swiss peasantry. katharine's letter pleased mrs. stanbourne as little as her father's had done; but she was a sensible as well as a feeling-hearted woman, and she recognised that explanation of any thing which excited her misgivings was not just then attainable. it must be waited for it; had better be waited for patiently; she would see katharine as soon as possible after she should reach england, and in the mean time would write to her, as usual, not very often, but very frankly and affectionately. she had adhered to this resolution; and now she was about to see and discern for herself whether this marriage, whose exterior advantages were undeniable, was all that she could desire, or any part of what she had desired for this impetuous, unmanageable girl, whom she had always loved, and for whom she had always been apprehensive, with the well-grounded fear which is taught by experience and the knowledge of the human heart; with that fear which can hardly fail to be awakened when one who has travelled far on the journey of life looks back and sees the young beginner joyously setting forth in delusive hope, and with the courage of ignorance.

the prompt invitation to middlemeads by which katharine replied to mrs. stanbourne's notification of her arrival in england was all that it should have been, in words; and the acceptance was as prompt and affectionate.

"this day week, then, she will be here," katharine said to herself, as she sat before her writing-table with the letter in her hand. "this day week. i am glad the house is likely to be so full--i don't want to be alone with her. it is all so unlike her ideas--and she is so quick." here katharine sighed. "well, after all, she knows i always liked money, and what money gives one in this world--and she knows i never was romantic. it's all very gay and splendid here; and if i don't care quite so much about it as i used to think i should--i must be a worse actress than i think i am, if she finds that out. one thing at least she does not know, and can never discover; one secret is at least inviolably my own. no one can ever guess that i cherished the delusion of love and truth, of a life lived for their sake; a life lived with a man who amused himself all the time, who made me love him pour rire."

so far as it went, katharine's argument with herself was frank and well founded; but it did not go far enough, it did not extend to the acknowledgment of the real blot which she dreaded her friend's hitting. that mrs. stanbourne should regard her in the gravely responsible position of a wife, as wholly given up to empty amusements, the pursuit of pleasure and excitement, and the lavish expenditure of money upon every trifle which took her fancy, was, she chose to persuade herself, what she dreaded. and this certainly was an impression to be deprecated; but it was only secondary, though she put it first. it was her conduct towards robert which she really feared to find exposed to the keen, unembarrassed scrutiny of mrs. stanbourne, whom she knew to be a woman incapable of trifling with the ideal of duty either in theory or in practice. that she would discern her to be a wife without love for her husband, without gratitude for all his affection and observance, without sympathy for his tastes, observance of his wishes, or consideration for his feelings; a woman hardened, wilful, and selfish; who had made a marriage which was a bargain, and was not faithful to the spirit of her share in that bargain. if mrs. stanbourne's customary penetration did not fail her, this was what it would show her, under the surface of a life of gaiety, extravagance, and luxury. she felt in her conscience, whose voice she could not stifle, that she was unjust towards the man who had given her not only money but love. true, she did not care for the love, she did not want it; but after all, it was the vehicle by which the money which she did want and did care for was conveyed to her; and there was an undeniable baseness, a failure of duty and propriety in her conduct, only the more flagrant because the sufferer by it was compelled to endure it uncomplainingly, because the injury was, so to speak, impalpable. katharine was too clear-sighted not to perceive and understand her own shortcomings perfectly; and in her inmost heart she dreaded that mrs. stanbourne would understand them too. plainly put, she knew the truth to be, that she was revenging on the man who had given her a brilliant and enviable position before the world; who had effectually screened her from scorn and malice, and made her an object of envy instead; the man who loved her with a fervour of admiration and devotion which served only to provoke and embitter her,--the deadly injury inflicted upon her by another, the baseness of whose conduct every womanly instinct should have taught her to requite with contempt. she had done robert streightley the tremendous wrong of marrying him without loving him; true, he knew it and accepted it, but it was none the less, in the light of a pure woman's conscience, a deadly wrong--and she had not made the slightest effort to retrieve or repair that wrong. if a transient impulse, ascribable to the elasticity of spirit of her age more than to any real motive of her conscience, had drawn her nearer to him for a little while, she had fallen away from him again in impatient weariness, and now each day seemed but to set them farther apart. and she could not even regret it; she could feel no repentance, no wish to be different--that was the worst of it; it was not that she desired the conditions of her domestic life to be altered, but only that she dreaded their discovery by mrs. stanbourne. katharine's meditations were not, therefore, of the brightest; and a second cause of embarrassment arose to trouble them. lady henmarsh and mrs. stanbourne were utterly uncongenial to each other, and yet each occupied an exceptional position as regarded her: they would be certain to clash unpleasantly. it would have been easier to bear, had lady henmarsh not been there. katharine must announce the expected visit to her ci-devant chaperone, and she felt exceedingly uncomfortable at the prospect. she had on several occasions narrowly escaped quarrelling with lady henmarsh apropos of mrs. stanbourne; and she thought it extremely likely that on this occasion they might quarrel outright. katharine was not a person likely to defer doing any thing of the kind because it was unpleasant, so she went immediately to the south drawing-room, where she found lady henmarsh, ellen, and hester gould. lady henmarsh was doing nothing, so far as her hands were concerned. sunk in the luxurious depths of an easy-chair, she was looking out on the flower-garden and the statues, and talking to hester gould, who was seated on a footstool in the embrasure of the large window, and pulling the ears of topaze, who was lying contentedly in her lap.

"look at this faithless little creature, mrs. streightley," exclaimed hester, as katharine entered the room. "he actually followed me out of the breakfast-room this morning, in preference to you. can you fancy any thing so base?"

"topaze prefers lying on a silk dress to lying on a muslin one, miss gould," returned katharine smiling; "and she is particularly fond of having her ears pulled. i have had no time to indulge her this morning; i have been busy with my letters. i have heard from papa, lady henmarsh."

"indeed, my dear! i thought all his correspondence was reserved for his son-in-law. when is he coming?"

"not just yet; indeed i fear he will not be able to manage to come to us before we go to town at all. but i have also heard from mrs. stanbourne. she has come to england, and she is so good as to promise us a visit. she names this day week for her arrival at middlemeads."

"o, indeed!" said lady henmarsh in a satirical voice, and directing a glance at hester which satisfied katharine that she had indulged in sarcasm concerning mrs. stanbourne to her new friend. "well, i shall not have the pleasure of seeing her, and i daresay she will not particularly miss me. i was just going to tell you, my dear kate, that sir timothy and i must really take a reluctant leave of middlemeads on wednesday. sir timothy has had letters from his steward requiring his immediate attention; and you know he is rather fidgety, and never satisfied unless he is on the spot."

katharine did not know any thing of the kind, but she was quite content to take sir timothy's inquietude for granted; and she received lady henmarsh's explanation with perfect grace, and much internal satisfaction. the four ladies then had a great deal of animated conversation about all they intended to do, and the constant intercourse they hoped to establish in london; and the morning wore away very pleasantly. katharine's spirits recovered their tone when she discovered that the meeting under circumstances of close association between lady henmarsh and mrs. stanbourne, which she had so much dreaded, was not to take place. hester was looking forward to her début in the character of a great heiress, under the auspices of the most agreeable married woman she had ever met, but whose character and disposition she read with equal precision and indifference. ellen, who was to return to town with hester, was sunk in a charming reverie of anticipation; for the rev. decimus hoped to be in london when she should arrive, and to be able to tell her to which of the most unhealthy and savage regions of the known world it was his desire and intention to convey her. hester's visit would terminate a day or two after mrs. stanbourne's arrival. ellen was very glad not to leave middlemeads before; she was very anxious to see katharine's friend and kinswoman. hester did not care in the least about the matter. it was not likely that mrs. stanbourne could ever be of any importance to her; she had nothing to gain and nothing to lose by her; and miss gould was very little given to thoughts or surmises or the taking of interest concerning any matter which did not immediately concern her. when the bell rang for luncheon, the ladies obeyed the summons; and lady henmarsh asked where was mr. streightley.

"robert is gone to london," said ellen. "he went by the first train, did he not, katharine?"

"yes, i believe so," answered robert's wife carelessly. "he had business in town, i understood, and will probably not return until to-morrow."

she neither knew nor cared what the business was that had called her husband away; but lady henmarsh knew, and cared enough to feel irritated, if not sorry. she had had a letter also from mr. guyon--a more confidential one than the brief chatty epistle he had written to his daughter; and she knew that at the moment at which they mentioned him, he and robert streightley were closeted together, in the office in the city, in deep, and by no means pleasant, conversation. miss gould also had had some letters that morning, and one of them offered her at least a suggestion of the nature of robert's business in town. it was written by mr. thacker; and among its rather voluminous contents miss gould read: "old guyon is going the pace tremendously; it must kill in the end;--even robert streightley--his patience can't hold out, i should think, if his purse can."

the week passed, unmarked by any remarkable incident. lady henmarsh carried off sir timothy on the appointed day, and bade hester gould farewell with much demonstrative affection; which that young lady received with well-bred acquiescence, and which katharine observed with mingled amusement and contempt.

"she never was half so fond of me," she thought; "but that is easily understood. i never was rich while she could make any use of my money."

during this week hester observed that robert streightley was more silent and dispirited than usual, and that not a day elapsed without his receiving a letter from mr. guyon. she felt some curiosity concerning the nature of these communications, for she by no means imputed them to mr. guyon's affection for his son-in-law; but she was quite satisfied to wait for its gratification. mr. thacker was expected at middlemeads, and she knew that she should discover much, if not all she wanted to know, from that gentleman; over whom her sagacity, firmness, and coolness of disposition, being qualities which he particularly admired, had secured her considerable and increasing influence. it was finally settled that mr. guyon should not visit his daughter at her country residence until the close of the season; an arrangement to which mrs. stanbourne's arrival had largely contributed. he was not afraid of her now; he had carried his point, and her influence was no longer to be dreaded; but he disliked her excessively, to an extent which amounted to antipathy; and he would not have encountered a week in a country-house in her society, and exposed to her observation, for any but a very large consideration. a slight to his daughter was a small one, so mr. guyon stayed away; and his daughter was decidedly relieved by his absence.

the apprehensions with which katharine had regarded mrs. stanbourne's visit were fully realised. her true friend discerned the change in the girl, for whom she felt sad and genuine interest; the woman whose life was full of duty steadily done perceived at once that in katharine's that mainspring was wanting. she had felt apprehensive before; but her fear for katharine's future grew with every hour of personal observation, with every fresh evidence of her total indifference to her husband which presented itself. she studied robert streightley closely, and she found in him much to like, to respect, and to esteem, but still something which puzzled and distressed her. she could not comprehend that a man could bear indifference, hardness, almost disdain, from a woman upon whom he had lavished such proofs of love, with so much submission as robert endured them from katharine withal. "if the man had done her a wrong, and she was graciously exercising some forbearance towards him, his manner might be what it is, with some reason and appropriateness; but as things are, i cannot understand it. it is ruinous to her, fostering every evil tendency in her nature, putting her in a false and unnatural position; and it is positively unmanly on his part."

mrs. stanbourne meditated a good deal upon these things before she made up her mind to speak to katharine. "entre l'arbre et l'écorce ne mets pas le doigt," was a wholesome saying, and she bore it in mind; but "a word in season, how good it is!" had equal wisdom and superior authority; and compassionate affection for the young wife, who was blindly laying waste her own life and another's, who was pursuing the phantoms of pride, vanity, and pleasure, and turning her back on love and duty, carried the day over caution and mere worldly prudence. "i will tell her the truth," said mrs. stanbourne to herself. "it may turn her against me, she is so proud, and so violent in her temper; but no matter for that, if my speaking the truth may only do her good, and spare her something in the future. katharine used to love me once, i sincerely believe; but i doubt whether she loves any one now. what can have come over the girl?"

among the many valuable qualities possessed by katharine's one true friend, tact was conspicuous; and she exercised it on the present occasion. she selected her opportunity well, and she employed it with admirable discretion. there was no assumption of superiority, no "lecturing" tone in the grave, kind words which she addressed to robert streightley's wife, and in which she appealed to her sense of right, of duty, of delicacy, and of gratitude. katharine could not deny the truth of any thing she said. she had married robert streightley because he was a rich man, and she had given him nothing in return, not only for all the money, but for all the love, which he lavished upon her, that it was in her power to withhold. the interview was a painful one to both parties; especially painful to katharine, who had to hide from her friend the real motive which had actuated her in her marriage and in her subsequent conduct--a motive in which not only did there not exist the smallest excuse, but which in reality increased her guiltiness towards the man whom she had married. she could not deny the truth; she could not impugn the force of the contrast presented by his conduct, which mrs. stanbourne painted to her in all the glowing colours of generosity, devotion, patience, and forbearance. katharine felt, as she promised, that she never could forget the picture as drawn by her friend; it appealed to all that was best in her nature; it touched her innate nobility of soul. nor did she forget it: in the time to come she bore it, every hue, every tint, in her memory.

mrs. stanbourne was surprised and delighted at the result of her hazardous interposition.

"i will not pretend to feel towards him what i do not feel," said katharine, in her softest tones, as their conversation drew to a close; "but i will be more considerate of him--i will be less selfish--i will try to make him happier."

"do so, my dear katharine," said her faithful friend, "and depend on it, your own happiness will be the result. you have only to do your duty to your husband, and the feelings to which you could not pretend, and ought not to feign, will arise in your heart spontaneously. try to make him happy, because it is right and you owe it to him, and you will soon find your own happiness centred in him as his is in you."

the elder lady kissed the younger gravely, and left her. katharine covered her face with her hands, and burst into tears. she very rarely wept; and now, though she thought, "ah, if she only knew--if she only knew that love is dead for me!" there was refreshment in the transient passion of grief and self-reproach, and a new dawn of better days in the frank resolution with which katharine determined on the fulfilment of her promise.

mr. thacker's promised visit to middlemeads was duly paid. he seldom allowed himself a holiday; but this visit was an agreeable combination of pleasure and business, in which he thought he might very safely indulge. besides, to have it known that he was staying with streightley of bullion lane; to have letters addressed to and to date them from "middlemeads, bucks;" to do the grand seigneur for a few days, and simultaneously to do a very excellent stroke of business,--all these things were pleasant to daniel thacker's soul. he arrived late, only in time to dress for dinner; during which repast he contrived to impress mrs. stanbourne, next to whom he was seated, with a holy horror of his appearance, manners, and conversation; for mr. thacker had what his sisters were in the habit of calling his "company manners" towards ladies, and which consisted either in repulsive insolence and would-be sarcasm, or rather more repulsive adulation. something had tended to put mr. thacker into great spirits on this particular evening. the dinner had been very good, the wines excellent; there was an air of luxurious refinement all around him, and his immediate proximity to mrs. stanbourne was specially grateful. he knew her as a woman of mark even among persons of mark; and "he liked that kind of thing, damme!" as he was accustomed to remark in moments of confidence. it mattered little to him that he received at first merely polite and at last chilling monosyllabic replies to his advances; he saw his way towards concocting a paragraph for the fashionable weekly paper in which his name should be included amongst a list of "swells" as being entertained at middlemeads; and for what mrs. stanbourne really thought of him he cared but little. with the person with whom it was essential to him that he should stand well, he made much greater progress. before the ladies retired for the night, and while katharine was playing, he had flung himself on an ottoman where was seated hester gould, and had said in the nearest approach to a demi-voix which with his natural nasal intonation he could command----

"are you an early riser, miss gould?"

hester looked at him with a little astonishment, and without the slightest affectation of hauteur, at the sudden question, and replied, "always, mr. thacker. i was compelled, as you know--who better?--to get up early to go to my pupils; and since i have lost the necessity i have not discontinued the practice."

"that's right; it's a good habit; though, i suppose, one not much indulged in here. however, that's so much the better. i want a quiet half-hour's chat with you. could you be in the grounds at eight to-morrow morning?"

a properly-regulated young lady would have blushed and exclaimed at this proposition; a flirt would have manipulated her fan, and nodded assent behind it. hester gould was neither, and did neither. she simply looked mr. thacker straight in the face, and said "yes."

"all right," said mr. thacker. "there's a sun-dial, or something of the kind, i think i noticed, at the end of the house which fronts the bay-window of this room. if you could meet me there at eight, we could stroll on and have our talk without fear of interruption."

to which hester gould merely replied: "i know it; i will be there."

daniel thacker prided himself on his punctuality; but when, attired in an unmistakably new suit of morning-dress, he arrived at the trysting-place the next morning, he found miss gould there before him. after the ordinary salutations they turned their backs on the house, and walked on side by side. then mr. thacker told her that since she had been pleased to honour him with her confidence, and to employ him as her man of business, he had been incessantly turning in his mind a scheme for employing some of the large sums of ready-money which were lying at her command; and that after great cogitation, and while he was even thoroughly undecided what investment to recommend to her, by the merest chance an opportunity had offered which ought not to be missed, and which, unless she was warped by silly sentimentality, she ought certainly to profit by.

miss gould listened attentively, and then said: "unless i am warped by silly sentimentality? i don't think that would ever stand in my way, mr. thacker. of what nature is the investment you propose?"

"a mortgage on an estate, worth at least a third more than the money required to be raised."

"there seems very little sentimentality in that. so far as my small experience of business matters goes, i cannot conceive any thing more safe and prosaic. what can you mean, mr. thacker? is it a case of widow and orphan, or of family estate held since the conquest passing into the hands of a parvenu? believe me, i'm adamant on both those points. if husband and father squanders and dissipates, widow and orphan must pay the penalty; if hugo de fitzurse is sold up, why should not jones of manchester buy bruin castle, moat, portcullis, battlements, and all?"

such a sentiment as this delighted daniel thacker amazingly. he looked at his companion with intense admiration, as he said, "of course; why not? but it's scarcely that sort of sentimentality that i alluded to. suppose the estate in question, on the mortgage of which the money was to be lent, had belonged to a friend--one whom you had--liked very much; what then?"

"what then? now really, my dear mr. thacker, this appears to me to be slightly childish. of course i should be extra glad to know that my loan of the money had been serviceable to my friend. he, she, or it would be glad to know that i had good security; and as to the sentimentality of the affair, i don't see the least occasion for it, unless the friend could not pay, and there arose a necessity for--what do you call it?--foreclosing."

daniel thacker laughed outright--a short, sharp, shrill laugh of intense enjoyment. "miss gould," he said, "i cannot tell you how immensely i respect you. you are out and away the best woman of business i ever met. then you seem to entertain this notion of the mortgage?"

"if you prove to me that it is all sound and sufficient. but what about the sentimentality? where is the estate on which the money is to be lent?"

"i should say," said mr. thacker, stopping short, and looking fixedly at her,--"i should say that at this moment we are standing in about the very middle of it."

hester gould had stopped when her companion stopped; and as he said these words a bright flush overspread her cheeks, and a bright light flashed into her eyes. that was all the outward and visible sign of the prospect which thacker's speech had conjured up. robert streightley pressed for money--that money lent by her, and not repaid--she the mistress of that much-vaunted estate--she the heiress in due course of time dispossessing the man who slighted, and humbling the woman who rivalled her. all these thoughts glanced through hester's mind, but the only sign of their presence was the flush of her cheek and the gleam of her eyes. daniel thacker marked both, but it was not his game to be reckoned appreciative in such matters; so he said:

"you are silent, miss gould. i thought my last announcement would settle the question."

"then you for once thought wrong, mr. thacker," said hester with an effort. "i am sorry to hear that mr. streightley requires this money; though probably a loan under such circumstances is the commonest thing in his experience of business. i am glad i am able to let him have it. i only make one stipulation, that my name does not appear in the matter. you will lend the money, if you please, and mr. streight----the borrower will only hear of you in the transaction. details we can arrange at another opportunity. now shall we turn towards the house?"

"one moment, miss gould. i'm a bad hand at expressing myself in this kind of thing, but--but--" to his intense astonishment mr. thacker found himself turning very red and stammering audibly--"but the fact is, that there is a charm about you which--which--the way in which you adapt yourself to business, and your knowledge of the world; and--i can assure you i've never been looked upon as a marrying man, but if you would do me the honour to accept my hand, i would----"

"you would actually sacrifice yourself," said hester with a slight smile. "no, mr. thacker; i must say no. believe me, i'm fully sensible of the honour, but i think we know a little too much of each other for a happy match. i should not care very much to be valued by my husband for the manner in which i 'adapted myself to business,' as you call it; and i've little doubt that when you take a wife, it will be some pretty girl whose want of 'knowledge of the world' will not be her least recommendation. no; we will be very good friends, if you please, and as my man of business you will--but let us be candid--you will always make a good thing of me, without----. i think we understand each other?" and to this plain speech mr. thacker made no other protest than a shoulder-shrug.

before hester gould went to bed that night she stood in the bay-window of her room, looking out upon the garden and the park beyond, bathed in the bright moonlight. for more than a quarter of an hour she stood thus, calmly contemplating the scene before her. then she said, as she turned away, "mistress of this place, which that proud woman downstairs exults so in!--mistress of this place, and robert streightley's creditor! it could not have been very deep-rooted, my love for that man. and yet i don't know; i think at one time it equalled my present hate of him--and of her; and then, god knows, it must have been deep enough!"