eant by Heaven to be the
shadow of another's sun--not herself the sun,--this child is not the one
who can atone for the Past and illume the Future."

CHAPTER VII.

That evening Harley L'Estrange arrived at his father's house. The few
years that had passed since we saw him last had made no perceptible
change in his appearance. He still preserved his elastic youthfulness
of form, and singular variety and play of countenance. He seemed
unaffectedly rejoiced to greet his parents, and had something of the
gayety and tenderness of a boy returned from school. His manner to Helen
bespoke the chivalry that pervaded all the complexities and curves
of his character. It was affectionate, but respectful,--hers to him,
subdued, but innocently sweet and gently cordial. Harley was the chief
talker. The aspect of the times was so critical that he could not avoid
questions on politics; and, indeed, he showed an interest in them which
he had never evinced before. Lord Lansmere was delighted.

"Why, Harley, you love your country after all?"

"The moment she seems in danger, yes!" replied the Patrician; and the
Sybarite seemed to rise into the Athenian. Then he asked with eagerness
about his old friend Audley; and, his curiosity satisfied there, he
inquired the last literary news. He had heard much of a book lately
published. He named the one ascribed by Parson Dale to Professor Moss;
none of his listeners had read it.

Harley pished at this, and accused them all of indolence and stupidity,
in his own quaint, metaphorical style. Then he said, "And town gossip?"

"We never hear it," said Lady Lansmere.

"There is a new plough much talked of at Boodle's," said Lord Lansmere.

"God speed it. But is not there a new man much talked of at White's?"

"I don't belong to White's."

"Nevertheless, you may have heard of him,--a foreigner, a Count di
Peschiera."

"Yes," said Lord Lansmere; "he was pointed out to me in the Park,--a
handsome man for a foreigner; wears his hair properly cut; looks
gentlemanlike and English."

"Ah, ah! He is here then!" and Harley rubbed his hands.

"Which road did you take? Did you pass the Simplon?"

"No; I came straight from Vienna."

Then, relating with lively vein his adventures by the way, he continued
to delight Lord Lansmere by his gayety till the time came to retire to
rest. As soon as Harley was in his own room his mother joined him.

"Well," said he, "I need not ask if you like Miss Digb