Love and Life

morrow.'

'My best thanks are yours,' and her hand was taken, she was carefully conducted to the door and dismissed with a gentle pressure of her fingers, and a courteous: 'Goodnight, madam; Au revoir, if I may venture to say so.'

By contrast, the hall looked almost light, and Aurelia could see the skip of joy with which Jumbo hurried to fetch a candle. As he gave it to her, he made his teeth flash from ear to ear, as he exclaimed: 'Pretty missy bring new life to mas'r!'

Thus did a new element come into Aurelia's life. She carefully prepared Harriet's favourite song, a French romance, but Mr. Belamour did not like it equally well with the Nightingale, which he made her repeat, rewarding her by telling her of the charming looks and manners of her mother, so that she positively enjoyed her visit. The next night he made inquiries into her walks at Bowstead, asking after the favourite nooks of his childhood, and directing her to the glades where grew the largest dewberries and sweetest blackberries. This led to her recital of a portion of Midsummer Night's Dream , for he drew her on with thanks at every pause: 'I have enjoyed no such treat for many years,' he said.

'There are other pieces that I can recite another time,' said Aurelia timidly.

'You will confer a great favour on me,' he answered.

So she refreshed her memory by a mental review of Paradise Lost over her embroidery frame, and was ready with Adam's morning hymn, which was much relished. Compliments on her elocution soon were turned by her into the praise of 'sister,' and as she became more at ease, the strange man in the dark listened with evident delight to her pretty fresh prattle about sister and brother, and father and home. Thus it had become a daily custom that she should spend the time between half past seven and nine in the company of the prisoner of darkness, and she was beginning to look forward to it as the event of the day. She scarcely expected to be sent for on Sunday evening, but Jumbo came as usual with the invitation, and she was far from sorry to quit a worm-eaten Baxter's Saints' Rest which she had dutifully borrowed from Mrs. Aylward.

'Well, my fair visitor,' said the voice which had acquired a tone of pleased anticipation, 'what mental repast has your goodness provided?'

'It is Sunday, sir.'

'Ah!' as if it had not occurred to him, and with some disappointment.

'I could say the Psalms by heart, sir, if you would like it, for it is the 20th day of the month.'

'Thank you. Your voice can make anything sweet.'

Aurelia was shocked, and knew that Betty would be more so, but she was too shy to do anything except to begin: 'Praise thou the Lord, O my soul.'

It was a fortunate thing that it was a Psalm of such evident beauty, for it fell less familiarly on his ear than her passages from the poets. At the end he said: 'Yes, that is true poetry. Praise fits well with happy young lips. You have been to church?'

'No, sir, Mr. Greaves does not come to-day.'

'Then how did the gentle saint perform her orisons?'

'Please do not so call me, sir! I tried to read the service, but I could not get the children to be still, so I had to tell them about Joseph, and I found a beautiful Bible full of pictures, like our Dutch one at home.'

'You found the old Bible? My mother used to show it to my brother and me-my poor mother!'

He mentioned one or two of the engravings, which he had never forgotten, but the evening was less of a success than usual, and Aurelia doubted whether we would wish for her that day se'nnight. All her dread of him was gone; she knew she had brought a ray of brightness into his solitary broken life, and her mind was much occupied with the means of affording him pleasure. Indeed she might have wearied of the lack of all companionship save that of the young children; and converse with a clever highly cultivated mind was stimulating and expanding all her faculties. When the stores or her memory were becoming exhausted, Jumbo was bidden to open a case of books which had lain untouched since they were sent sown from Mr. Belamour's chambers at the Temple, and they were placed at her disposal. Here was Mr. Alexander Pope's translation of the Iliad of Homer, which had appeared shortly before the fatal duel, and Aurelia eagerly learnt whole pages of it by heart for the evening's amusement, enjoying extremely the elucidations and criticisms of her auditor, who would dwell on a passage all day, beg to have it repeated a second time in the evening, and then tell her what his memory or his reflection had suggested about it. Moreover, having heard some inexplicable report, through Jumbo, of the Porteous mob, Mr. Belamour became curious to learn the truth, and this led to his causing the newspapers to be sent weekly to be read and reported to him by Aurelia. It seemed incredible that a man of much ability should have been content to spend all these years in the negro's sole society, but no doubt the injury done to the brain had been aggravated by grief and remorse, so that he had long lain, with suspended faculties, in a species of living death; whence he had only gradually, and as it were unconsciously, advanced to his present condition. Perhaps Mr. Wayland's endeavours to rouse him had come too soon, or in a less simple and attractive form, for they had been reluctantly received and had proved entirely unsuccessful; while the child-like efforts of the girl, following his lead instead of leading him, were certainly awakening him, and renewing his spirits and interest in the world at large in an unlooked-for manner.

CHAPTER XI. A VOICE FROM THE GRAVE.

He hath a word for thee to speak.

KEBLE.

No difference was made to Aurelia's visits to Mr. Belamour on Sunday evenings, but he respected her scruples against indulgence in profane literature, and encouraged her to repeat passages of Scripture, beginning to taste the beauty of the grand cadences falling from her soft measured voice. Thus had she come to the Sermon on the Mount, and found herself repeating the expansion of the Sixth Commandment ending with, 'And thou be cast into prison. Verily I say unto thee, thou shalt not come out thence until thou hast paid the uttermost farthing.'

A groan startled her. Then came the passage and the unhappy man's history with a sudden stab. A horror of the darkness fell on her. She felt as if he were in the prison and she reproaching him, and cried out-'O sir, forgive me. I forgot; I did not say it on purpose.'

'No, my child, it was Mary speaking by your voice. No, Mary, I shall never come out. It will never be paid.'

She shook with fright as Jumbo touched her, saying, 'Missee, go; mas'r bear no more;' but, as she rose to go away, a sweet impulse made her pause and say, 'It is paid, He paid. You know Who did- in his own Blood.'

Jumbo drew her away almost by force, and when outside, exclaimed, 'Missee never speak of blood or kill to mas'r-he not bear it. Head turn again-see shapes as bad as ever.'

The poor child cried bitterly, calling herself cruel, thoughtless, presumptuous; and for the next few days Jumbo's eyes glared at her as he reported his master to be very ill; but, on the third day, he came for her as usual. She thought Mr. Belamour's tones unwontedly low and depressed, but no reference was made to the Sunday, and she was glad enough to plunge into the council of Olympus.

A day or two later, Dame Wheatfield sent her husband with an urgent invitation to Miss Amoret with her sisters and cousin to be present at her harvest home. Mrs. Aylward, with a certain tone of contempt, gave her sanction to their going with Molly, by the help of the little pony cart used about the gardens. Aurelia, in high glee, told Mr. Belamour, who encouraged her to describe all her small adventures, and was her oracle in all the difficult questions that Fidelia's childish wisdom was wont to start.

'To Wheatfield's farm, did you say? That is in Sedhurst. There are but three fields between it and the church.'

Presently he added: 'I am tempted to ask a great kindness, though I know not whether it will be possible to you.'

'Indeed, sir, I will do my utmost.'

'There are two graves in Sedhurst Church, I have never dared to inquire about them. Would it be asking too much from my gentle friend to beg of her to visit them, and let me hear of them.'

'I will, I will, sir, with all my heart.'

By eight o'clock the next evening she was again with him, apologizing for being late.