l the storms and quicksands in his way.'

Good Mary might well open her eyes, but, pondering a little, she said,
'He need not leave off liking Charlotte, if that is to do him good; but
I suppose the question is, what is safest for her?'

'Well, he is safe enough. He is gone to Illershall to earn her.'

'Oh! then I don't care! But you have not answered me, and I think I
can guess the boy's secret that you have been keeping. Did you not
once tell me that you trusted those stones in Ferny dell to him?'

'Now, Mary, you must keep his secret!'

'But why was it made one? Did you think it unkind to say that it was
his fault?'

'Of course I did. When I thought it was all over with me, I could not
go and charge the poor fellow with it, so as to make him a marked man.
I was only afraid that thinking so often of stopping myself, I should
bring it out by mistake.'

Mary looked down, and thought; then raised her eyes suddenly, and said,
as if surprised, 'That was really very noble in you, Louis!' Then,
thinking on, she said, 'But how few people would think it worth while!'

'Yes,' said Louis; 'but I had a real regard for this poor fellow, and
an instinct, perhaps perverse, of shielding him; so I could not accuse
him on my own account. Besides, I believe I am far more guilty towards
him. His neglect only hurt my ankle--my neglect left him to fall into
temptation.'

'Yet, by the way he talks of you--'

'Yes, he has the sort of generous disposition on which a little
delicacy makes a thousand times more impression than a whole pile of
benefits I hope and trust that he is going to repair all that is past.
I wish I could make out whether good intentions overrule errors in
detail, or only make them more fatal.'

Mary was glad to reason out the question. Abstract practical views
interested her, and she had much depth and observation, more original
than if she had read more and thought less. Of course, no conclusion
was arrived at; but the two cousins had an argument of much enjoyment
and some advantage to both.

Affairs glided on quietly till the Saturday, when Lord Ormersfield
returned. Never had he so truly known what it was to come home as when
he mounted the stairs, with steps unlike his usual measured tread, and
beheld his son's look of animated welcome, and eager, outstretched
hands.

'I was afraid,' said the Earl, presently, 'that you had not felt so
well,' and he touched his own upper lip to indicate that t