tions, and Agnes could not but feel that she must only be remembered as an object of pity and contempt.

“If she had seen me," she murmured to herself, "how would it have been? what would have been her feelings when she recognised me? would she have greeted me with all the affectionate kindness which I was accustomed to receive from her, or would she have turned coldly away? Alas! I shudder to think of such a possibility. How thankful I now feel that she did not see me !"

With thoughts such as these, Agnes fell asleep, and in her dreams was still with Edith.

She woke the next morning with a headache, and consequently did not get up to breakfast. When she was dressing, she heard a knock at the door, and upon opening it discovered Mrs. Grant with a newspaper in her hand.

"Good-morning, Miss Falkland; I am sorry to hear that you are indisposed this morning. May I ask what success attended your expedition vesterday afternoon ?”

When Agnes had given an account of her unsatisfactory visit to the lady to whom Mrs. Grant had directed her, the latter said:

"I see an advertisement in this paper, which perhaps you would like to answer."

She gave the paper to Agnes, who read as follows:

"A lady in delicate health is desirous of meeting with a young lady of good education to live with her as companion. Unexceptionable refer

ences are required, and a high salary will be given to a suitable person. A Catholic preferred. Any one desirous of applying for this situation should call at the post-office, Twickenham, where they will receive further directions."

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"It is not exactly the kind of situation you have been looking out for," said Mrs. Grant, when Agnes had finished; "but it sounds to me more promising, and I would advise you to go over to Twickenham as early as possible."

"Thank you," said Agnes. "I certainly think that no time should be lost. Perhaps I had better go to-day."

"I think so, if you feel well enough. There is a train that will take you at two o'clock."

The matter was thus arranged; but Agnes did not feel very sanguine, as she had met with so many disappointments.

CHAPTER XIX.

ANOTHER INTRODUCTION.

"One fatal remembrance, one sorrow that throws
Its bleak shade alike o'er our joys and our woes-
To which life nothing darker or brighter can bring,
For which joy has no balm, and affliction no sting."

MOORE.

THE same afternoon our heroine might be seen entering the post-office at Twickenham. On showing the advertisement and explaining her errand, the post-master, eyeing her sharply, presented to her in an envelope a card on which was written:

"MRS. ALEXANDER CLYDE,
Acacia Grove,

Twickenham."

The man pointed out the direction of the house, which was at no great distance. It was not a very large one, but was built in the Italian style, and beautifully decorated. The gardens, which were extensive, were laid out with great taste.

Agnes's eyes wandered in admiration from one lovely object to another; everything that could delight the eye or please the fancy was there in its greatest perfection. Fountains playing in the

golden sunlight, and scattering their glistening diamonds upon the rich dark-green moss that surrounded their marble basins; terraces adorned with statuary, and vases filled with flowers of the most brilliant hues; velvet lawns, sunny bowers, and shady alcoves, were all to be found there in charming variety.

On one of the lawns Agnes observed a tame gazelle, tethered near a mimic waterfall at which to slake its thirst.

The

"Who are you?" Agnes was asked in a shrill, harsh voice, as she stood in the flowery porch. Much surprised, she looked round, and was again saluted: "Walk in; Clyde's at home." voice came from above, and on looking up, Agnes beheld a very handsome green parrot, eyeing her with curiosity from its gilded cage. On observing that it was discovered, it indulged in a loud and disagreeable scream of laughter, which was answered by the well-known screech of a peacock, which strutted proudly on a balustrade.

Agnes was beginning to think that the lady of the house must have a great predilection for animals.

At this moment the door was thrown open, and the parrot again warmly pressed her to "walk in.” Agnes, not thinking it necessary to give her name, handed the card to the footman, considering that that was sufficient introduction.

She saw in the drawing-room the same taste displayed that had struck her in the grounds. It was adorned with a profusion of the choicest hot

house flowers. The most refined judgment had presided over all the arrangements, even in the smallest details. And when Agnes recollected for the first time that she was offering herself not to take the place of a governess, but to be the companion of a lady who evidently moved in high society, a feeling of diffidence stole over her, and she feared that her application would be in vain.

As these thoughts crossed her mind, she heard a light step outside the door, and in another instant Mrs. Clyde entered the room. She was young, had dark eyes, and scarcely a tinge of colour in her face. Her movements were easy and graceful, and Agnes thought how handsome she would have been had she not looked so ill. As she approached Agnes, she raised her eyes to speak to her; and

fixing them for an instant on her face, she became deadly pale, and sank into a chair.

"You are ill," said Agnes, much frightened. “Shall I ring for assistance?"

"Thank you, no.

asked your name.'

But pardon me, I have not

"Miss Falkland," said Agnes.

Mrs. Clyde rose, saying, "Will you excuse me, and wait for a few minutes? I am not strong, and often feel faint." She bowed graciously, and with a smile retired.

The voice, the smile, the manner were all peculiar, and Agnes felt that they were not strange to her. Those eyes, I am sure I have

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seen them before!" She started. Could it be possible? Yes, surely it was Frances Macdonald!