"I wish she would wake," said Patty, meditatively; "it is very unhealthy to sleep so soundly in the middle of the day, and Patience does look so plain while she is asleep. Ugh!" The beauty shuddered and looked lovingly at the soft white flesh on which her cheek rested. "How dreadful it must be to have a skin of that colour; she's all skin and bone, poor creature; her eyes are the only good point about her, and when she's asleep one don't see them: but then she hasn't got a hump, like De Mirancourt. What a shapeless heap of cunning wickedness that dearold Frenchwoman is; she's all fun and sparkle. Never mind, she's done more for me than all the teaching and study in the world. She's taught me to value myself properly, and how to make other people do it too. If I hadn't known her and liked her, if I'd been such a goose as to take up the prejudices those silly English girls had against her, I should have known nothing of real life. I should have plodded on into a mere commonplace young lady;" and then Patty closed her eyes, and a smile of intense enjoyment curved her full lips. The novelty had not quite worn off; it was still delicious to realize that which she had been, and then to spring to the delightful certainty that no one, however prejudiced, could deny her right to be called a young lady.

"Just because she never went to Mass, as if it could matter: going to our Church may do some people good, but I can't believe any one was ever the better for all that Romish rubbish. I rather respect De Mirancourt for being too strong-minded to give in to it. Patience! oh, Patience, do wake up."

Miss Coppock started up at the sudden call, and Patty lay laughing; her disordered hair and staring alarmed eyes gave Patience a very weird aspect.

"I hope I haven't disturbed you," said Patty, sweetly.

"I haven't been asleep, so there was nothing to disturb." Miss Coppock spoke with the determined certainty with which a person who has just been snoring the house down assures you he

is broad awake, and has heard every word you have been saying.

"Oh, I'm so glad;" Patty smiled in such an exquisite way that Patience felt sure some more than usual service was about to be required of her. "I suppose you don't know, do you, where they keep the visitor's book?"

"I can go and see," and Miss Coppock got up from the sofa.

"No,"-Patty laughed still, but she spoke decidedly,-"not as you are, Patience, you would frighten the crows; your hair, now I think of it, is just like a crow's nest. Suppose you ring the bell and tell the waiter to bring the book here."

To us who have not seen them together during all these months it seems surprising that the heiress had so easily learned to command her former mistress; but Patty had one natural gift which does not always belong to cleverness: she was not only quick in reading human nature, but she had that strange power, more subtle than mere tact, of adopting at once the means best adapted to subdue or fascinate it.

She had no depth of insight; she could never have sounded Nuna Beaufort's heart, though she would easily have detected the sensitive, ill-assured nature that lay on its surface. Patty had not the gift of true sympathy, and sympathy alone can give thorough insight. She had no idea of the passion that lay hidden in Miss Coppock, though she comprehended perfectly the vanity and weakness which marred all that had once been true in the woman's nature, and this reading had taught her that the obsequious submission with which the milliner had treated her customers would be paid to herself if she took the lofty and commanding manner which some of those ladies had shown to Patience.

Even with De Mirancourt, who worshipped her for her beauty and her liberal gifts, Patty knew that she would never have held the same position if the wily Frenchwoman had ever suspected her origin. At Madame Mineur's she had represented herself as a young lady brought up in a lonely part of England, with few

advantages of education; and the superficial polish she had gained from Miss. Coppock's friend in London had enabled her to perform this character successfully, though her extreme beauty and charm did as much for her as anything else. It seemed to Patty that as she could not maintain this fiction literally with Miss Coppock, the next best thing was to act up to it; and from the day on which she left Madame Mineur's and took up her abode in the suite of rooms Patience had engaged for her, the exdressmaker had been aware that without a decided quarrel, which would possibly involve dismissal, there was no hope of changing the relations in which Patty's manner had placed them.

Miss Latimer's first act had been a prelude significative of the key-note she meant to strike.

She seated herself at once in the pretty little Parisian saloon, and took off her bonnet.

"Miss Coppock," she said, with a grave, sweet smile, "take my bonnet if you please; I will follow you to my room presently," and then Miss Latimer turned to the maid, who stood staring in open-mouthed admiration of her new mistress, and spoke to her in fluent French-French which poor Patience, in spite of her efforts, was as incapable of rivalling as she was blind to the grammatical blunders which the glibness of Patty's utterance disguised.

So that now this order to ring the bell sounded as a matter of course to Patience.

The waiter came, a bullet-headed, pinkcheeked Fleming, who took a great interest in these "dames voyageuses," as he called them.

66 Ah," up went his shoulders and his hands, "it is a pity, but there is an English monsieur who has just demanded the book."

He looked at Patty, but she did not condescend to answer; De Mirancourt had told her nothing was so important as reserve and dignity with inferiors.

"Tell him to bring it as soon as he can, and come here, Patience;" then she whispered, "Will you find out if the gentleman who has just asked for the

book is the new arrival this morning?"

Miss Latimer walked away to the window, and looked down into the courtyard while the conversation went on between the companion and the waiter.

"I believe I ought to have sent them on to the landing. Well, there's one comfort, when I'm really launched I shan't be likely to come to a quiet place like this inn, so if I do make mistakes here they are not likely to injure me afterwards."

The quaint courtyard, with its stone figures and jars filled with scarlet creeping blossoms, made a quiet scene of repose of picturesque, richly coloured still life; for the old walls around it were genial in their show of vines : purple and golden grapes hung in ripe luxuriance everywhere, and below, climbing up, as if to reach them, were wreaths of flaming nasturtium flowers, with broad cool green leaves. But there was no leisure in the heiress's mind at present for the exquisite contrasts presented by grey stone and scarlet blossoms, or by tender green leaves and luxurious purple grapes; Patty's brain was filled with exquisite costumes, the best choice she could make among the lace she had that morning inspected, and also with surmises as to the position of the gentleman who had been so evidently struck by her beauty.

Going out early on their way to the Musée-it was so near that they had decided to walk, though Patty never walked if she could help it-they had met a gentleman coming into the hotel. He had just got out of a travelling carriage loaded with baggage; evidently he was a person of consideration.

He gave Patty a long look of admiration, a look which seemed to her involuntary; she thought he was too complete a gentleman to have stared in that way at a lady unless he had been bewildered by her beauty. She could not have told what he was like; she only felt sure he had fallen desperately in love with her. So little had she noticed him, that when they came back from their expedition, and she saw a well

dressed man with a fair beard watching her as she got out of her carriage, she would not have recognized or remarked him-for Patty was accustomed to be stared at-but for the same intense gaze.

Then she saw that he was a mode rately well-looking man, of middle height and age, with small light eyes, and a superfluity of fair hair and beard, a man among men rather like what a Pomeranian is among dogs-he looked silky and well-cared for.

Miss Latimer had meant to question Patience about the new-comer; but Patience had been so tiresome as to fall asleep after her baffled attack on the subject of ornaments.

"Well," as soon as the waiter had closed the door, "what did the fellow say 1

"He says the gentleman who has got the book is a gentleman who arrived from Paris this morning. The man began to laugh when I asked. He said the gentleman saw us come in just now, and asked who we were."

"Asked who you were, did he? Dear me!" Patty smiled. "I hope the waiter will bring the book."

"I'm going to write to my father," she said after a pause. "When you go down to put the letter in the box, Patience, you can remind the man if he forgets."

Patience had gathered up the bonnets, parasols, &c., and was leaving the room with them, but she turned round as Patty spoke.

"I fancied your father had agreed to your change of name, and yet I noticed you directed his last letter Roger Westropp, Esq."

A slight flush rose on Patty's check, and the watchful eyes-eyes which were daily growing more eager for any the slightest clue to a permanent hold over the heiress-noted it in silence.

"No; my father has no wish to change his manner of life, or his name either; my whole life has changed, therefore it is far better to give the new life a new name."

Something unusual, artificial in the tone of voice, awakened Patience to suspicion. No. 140.-VOL. XXIV.

"I can't fancy how you'll manage when you go back to England. Surely you won't live in that dirty house?" Patty stood for a moment arguing with herself.

"If she stays with me, she must know," she said, "and I had better tell her than let her find it out." She paused a moment longer. Should she dismiss Miss Coppock before she returned to London, find her some suitable situation, and cut the tie between them? Patience never knew how nearly that moment's hesitation had altered the future course of her life. "No," argued Patty, "I have made good my position with her; I have no need to be on my guard, as I must be with a stranger, lest some little mistake should undo all I have done for myself. Patience thinks me a wonder, and that doubles my power over her. She is too ignorant

herself to know that I don't know how to do everything yet, as I will know before I have done." The soft sweet face looked almost stern in its determination. "Besides, Patience by herself, beyond my control, might chatter; nobody would believe her perhaps, but I like to be quite safe." She went on aloud :

"I don't mean to live with my father when I go back to London; and as we are not to have the same name, although of course it will make no real difference between us, still I shan't call him father. We have nothing to hide or be ashamed of, you know we haven't;" she looked inflexibly into Miss Coppock's eyes, and they fell beneath hers. "I've changed my name, and paid for it, just because I wanted to avoid annoyance and extortion from people who knew me beforehand; but if I were to call him father, and yet have a different name, people would begin to suspect there was something to be found out. I am Miss Latimer, and Roger Westropp is my foster-father; for I suppose you know I contribute to his support. I don't know whether he receives it or lets it accumulate, but a certain income is settled on him for the rest of his life."

She spoke calmly and distinctly, and

H

Patience looked aghast at this new proof of Patty's cleverness. For the moment the gravity of Miss Latimer's manner gave reality to her assertions, but not for long. Patience was too clever at subterfuge herself not to see the advantage that might accrue to her from the falsehood that Patty had chosen to act.

"And suppose any one finds out?" she said slyly.

Patty raised those deep blue eyes softly to her companion's face and gave her a long look.

"Do you know, Patience, you sometimes make me think you are afraid of being found out yourself, the idea seems so uppermost in your head. Can't you see there's nothing to find out in my case? I've never done anything I'm ashamed of. I've been placed by circumstances in a different position to the one I was born in; I've worked hard enough, goodness knows, and I've fitted myself for my present advantages; it would be ungrateful and ridiculous to grovel back to my former state for ever. I'm not ashamed of it-dear me ! no; but I've left it. I'm not Patty Westropp;" she gave a slight shiver at the name. "Other people-people with prejudices, you know-might be ashamed of it; why should I distress and annoy my friends by forcing my own past history on their notice? De Mirancourt told me once, and I agree with her, that there's nothing so vulgar as the way some people have of thrusting their family and their affairs on the notice of others.' She changed her tone, and looked in a half-playful way at Patience. "I don't know what De Mirancourt would say though if she heard me holding forth in this way; she'd say it was vulgar to preach, I know. But, Patience, I should have thought you agreed with her in some things, you are so very close about your early life."

The sunken eyes fell again, and an angry flush spread over Miss Coppock's sullen face; but she was spared the pain of answering.

The waiter came in with a newspaper in his hand, which had come by the

mid-day post, he said, and he had the visitor's book under his arm.

Patty seated herself, eager to examine this, and tossed the paper over to her friend.

"It seems about three months old," she said, carelessly.

Before she had found the place she wanted, Miss Coppock startled her.

"Here's news for you, Patty! What do you think has happened?"

For an instant Patty grew white. She did care for her father, far more than her manner to him would have vouched for, and she thought some harm had happened to him.

"Isn't it father's writing outside?" she said.

"Oh yes, it's his writing, but it's nothing about Mr. Westropp; it's a marriage-your friend Mr. Whitmore. Here it is: At the Parish Church of Ashton, Paul Whitmore, Esq., to Nuna Cecil Beaufort.""

There was a little malice in the sparkle of Miss Coppock's eyes, but Patty gave no outward sign of mortification.

"Oh! they are married, are they?" she said; and her plump white finger went steadily down the list of names in the visitors' book.

"Maurice Downes, Esq.,'" she read, "M.P., Hatchhurst Hall, Warwickshire, Bruce Castle in the Highlands, Parklane, London.' Ah, I thought he looked like a gentleman."

"Who?" Patty looked up quickly. Miss Coppock's voice sounded hoarse, as if she were ill; she looked ill enough certainly-ashy pale, and almost rigid. "Who?" she repeated.

"That gentleman we saw this morning-but what ever is the matter?"

CHAPTER XXXIII. PATTY'S FRIGHT.

DAYS and weeks went on, and still Miss Latimer stayed in Brussels.

Mr. Downes stayed there too. He had managed to be one of the party

when Patty went to Waterloo-she was too economical to take a carriage to herself, and during the journey he succeeded in pleasing Miss Latimer, and in rousing her out of her usual languid indifference towards fellowtravellers. Miss Coppock contributed to this result; she sat in a corner of the carriage with her veil down, and kept perfect silence.

"I can't think what possessed you, Patience! I declare if it hadn't been for Mr. Downes my tongue must have rusted before we got to the end of the journey."

Patty was looking at herself in the glass while she spoke, smiling in beautiful triumph at the remembrance of her fellow-traveller's irrepressible admiration. She took no heed of the despair in Miss Coppock's haggard face.

"I had a headache," Patience murmured. But Patty went on talking.

"I rather like him, do you know, though he is so English. Before we had been talking half an hour he gave me to understand he was rich, and that he had fine estates, and all that sort of thing. I don't believe travellers usually put more than one address in the book; some don't put any; it shows how purse-proud he is. I believe men think far more of money than women do after all. He says he wonders how we can exist in these small, confined rooms, Patience; so I asked him how he happened to be at such an insignificant place himself. You should have seen what a puffet he got in; he got quite red. He said he came here simply for quiet. He says at the great hotels the English of his class are marked men ; they can't get any privacy. Do you know, Patience, I feel sure and certain Mr. Downes's father was the first of his family; at least De Mirancourt always said only mushrooms are full of their own importance. Never mind, he'll be the more easy to manage. If I find that he really is as rich as he makes out, I rather think I shall give him the opportunity he asks for."

"What's that?" Ina sharp utterance, more like a cry than a question,

"Oh, Patience, how you startled me; you've turned me pale with fright. Did you really think Mr. Downes had made me an offer at once? No, he knows better, he's a gentleman, though he is so fussy; he only asked me to let him join us next time we went on an expedition."

"And what did you say?" Patience tried to speak quietly, but she could not hide the effort this cost her.

Mercy me, you are fussy now; I said of course I must consult my friend, and I wasn't sure if we should go on any more expeditions. Now you know why he was so extremely devoted in handing you from the carriage; he sees how dependent I am on you." Patty threw herself into a chair and laughed heartily.

"I don't think you can allow him to go about with you. This party was exceptional; it was made up too by the hotel-keeper to fill his carriage, not by you. I thought you said you meant to be so very select and particular, Patty?"

"Of course, so I am when there's a reason for it; but just now I needn't be half as straitlaced as if I were living at home in Paris or London. If I'm to make acquaintance with Mr. Downes, I must see him sometimes-besides, of course, I've not decided; I shall take a few days and think the matter over."

Patience made no answer, and Patty went on.

"Mr. Downes seems a very suitable person-come now, Patience, you know he is in Parliament, and he does not belong to titled people: if he did, he wouldn't think so much about mere money. I should like a title of course ". Patty put her head on one side and looked pensive, almost more lovely than when she smiled-"but then I want a husband who's rich enough of himself: I should only get hold of a poor spendthrift lord perhaps. perhaps. Why," she said with a blush, "you ought to be content, Patience, I'm sure you've said enough to me about marrying a poor man." The blush changed into a frown; she remembered that Paul Whitmore was Nuna's husbard now.