ago in Syria and Asia Minor. He has gone over
the same places a second time, and has made the journals up into a book
on the Crusaders, which he has sent from Constantinople for me to get
ready for publication. I shall come to you for help.'

'Me! How can I?' exclaimed Violet, colouring with astonishment.

'Let us enjoy our holiday first,' he replied, smiling. 'See there.'

A low open carriage and a pair of ponies came to the gate; Violet was
enchanted, and stood admiring and patting them, while John looked on
amused, telling her he was glad she approved, for he had desired Brown
to find something in which Captain Martindale would not be ashamed to
see her.

They drove along the Undercliff, and her enjoyment was excessive. To one
so long shut up in town, the fresh air, blue sky, and green trees were
charms sufficient in themselves, and when to these were added the bright
extent of summer sea, the beautiful curving outline of the bay ending
in the bold Culver Cliffs, and the wall of rocks above, clothed in
part with garland-like shrubs and festoons of creepers, it was to her
a perfect vision of delight. There was an alternation of long pauses of
happy contemplation, and of smothered exclamations of ecstasy, as if eye
and heart were longing to take a still fuller grasp of the beauty of the
scene. The expression her face had worn at the cathedral entrance was
on it now, and seemed to put a new soul into her features, varied by the
beaming smiles as she cried out joyously at each new object-the gliding
sails on the water, the curious forms of the crags, or the hawks that
poised themselves in the air.

The flowers, too! They came to a lane bordered with copse, blue with
wild hyacinth. 'Oh! it was so long since she had seen a wild flower!
Would he be so kind as to stop for one moment to let her gather one. She
did so much wish to pick a flower for herself once more!'

He drew up, and sat, leaning back, watching her with one of his smiles
of melancholy meaning, as she lightly sprang up the bank, and dived
between the hazel stems; and there he remained musing till, like a
vision of May herself, she reappeared on the bank, the nut-bushes making
a bower around her, her hands filled with flowers, her cheek glowing
like her wild roses, and the youthful delicacy of her form, and the
transient brightness of her sweet face, suiting with the fresh tender
colouring of the foliage, chequered with flickering sunshine.

'Oh! I hope