them, Leander gave a deep sigh of relief.

"Matilda, my own dearest girl," he said, "now that that cockatrice has
departed, tell me, you don't doubt your Leander, do you?"

"No," said Matilda, judicially, "I don't doubt you, Leander, only I do
wish you'd been a little more open with me; you might have told me you
had gone to those gardens and lost the ring, instead of leaving me to
hear it from that girl."

"So I might, darling," he owned; "but I thought you'd disapprove."

"And if she's _my_ daughter," observed Mrs. Collum, "she _will_
disapprove."

But it was evident from Matilda's manner that the inference was
incorrect; the relief of finding Leander guiltless on the main count had
blinded her to all minor shortcomings, and he had the happiness of
knowing himself fully and freely forgiven.

If this could only have been the end! But, while he was still throbbing
with bliss, he heard a sound, at which his "bedded hair" started up and
stood on end--the ill-omened sound of a slow and heavy footfall.

"Leandy," cried his aunt, "how strange you're looking!"

"There's some one in the passage," he said, hoarsely. "I'll go and see
her. Don't any of you come out."

"Why, it's only our Jane," said his aunt; "she always treads heavy."

The steps were heard going up the stairs; then they seemed to pause
halfway, and descend again. "I'll be bound she's forgot something," said
Miss Tweddle. "I never knew such a head as that girl's;" and Leander
began to be almost reassured.

The steps were heard in the adjoining room, which was shut off by
folding doors from the one they were occupying.

"Leander," cried Matilda, "what _can_ there be to look so frightened
of?" and as she spoke there came a sounding solemn blow upon the
folding-doors.

"I never saw the lady before in all my life!" moaned the guilty man,
before the doors had time to swing back; for he knew too well who stood
behind them.

And his foreboding was justified to the full. The doors yielded to the
blow, and, opening wide, revealed the tall and commanding figure of the
goddess; her face, thanks to Leander's pigments, glowing lifelike under
her hood, and the gold ring gleaming on her outstretched hand.

"Leander," said the goddess, in her low musical accents, "come away."

"Upon my word!" cried Mrs. Collum. "_Who_ is this person?"

He could not speak. There seemed to be a hammer beating on his brain,
reducing it to a pulp.

"Perhaps," said Miss Tweddle