himself—"in all common decency. But it was no
marriage. I have never spoken, and have hardly
seen her since. God forgive her and them. It
was a righteous judgment on them all."

So this momentous night at last came to an
end.

  CHAPTER XXXVIII. A MISSION.

WE may conceive the flutter in which this
event found our Lucy—dress, flowers, brides-
maids—what not. Now, indeed, all trials—and
there were many—were over happily over. She
and her darling soldier were at last to be united,
and have done with their troubles. Yet one thing
disturbed her—the state of West, and the curious
discovery made the night before. Her father
was actually then closeted with Sir John, and
had quite captivated that eccentric gentleman.
Mr. Dacres, indeed, owned that " West's
behaviour was incomprehensible."

In the midst of The Dear Girl's preparations,
West's image rose up before her: perhaps he
had suffered more than they had known or
suspected; perhaps there had been no spite
or petty persecution; and now, who could tell
what was his state? She had sent to make
the conventional inquiries; but the messenger
had seen Margaret, and come back scared by
a cold and bitter reception. "He was as well
as his enemies could wish him to be," was her
answer.

While she was busy with some little
preparation, her maid came to tell her that a
lady wished to see her. For a moment she
thought it was Margaret, and shrank in terror
from such a meeting; but presently a figure glided
into the room, which she knew to be Constance.
She had often seen, but had never yet met her;
for Constance, from some shyness or delicacy
as to her position, always kept aloof.

Lucy ran to meet her with the cordiality of a
friend. "I am so glad you have come here!
Tell me about him quickly. I am so distressed.
Oh! I heard something last night which I did
not know before."

"This is true, then," said Constance, gently,
sitting down as she was bid. "Your
marriage is to take place to-morrow?"

Lucy looked down. "Yes. All obstacles
are to be removed at last. But Mr. West—"

"Oh, he is ill, very ill," said Constance, sadly.
"This morning he is up, and pacing about the
room in great agitation. One idea has taken
possession of him. If something only could be
done—if you will see him, even."

"I would do anything in the world;
especially as I begin to fear I was a little unjust
in one thing."

"A little!" repeated the other, sadly. "Never
was any one—forgive me saying so—so cruelly
misjudged as he. I found it all out only within
these few days. That is what has entered into
his heart."

"How! what do you mean?" said Lucy,
agitated. "I now know that, when he was
away, he generously travelled to Scotland on
papa's business, and settled everything; but he
acted as if he had done nothing."

"Because he was so proud and so hurt,"
said Constance, "that dreadful day, when he
returned, and found that you had deserted him
without a word—you, for whom he was living,
for whom he had gone away."

''No!" said Lucy.

"You, who had led him on by false hopes.
Why his whole life that time was planning
and doing for you and yours. Where are
your father's debts and persecutions now?
Can you not guess the reason that all his
harassing has ceased?"

"And was it Gilbert West? Oh," said Lucy,
clasping her hands, "what does this mean?"

"It was for you he went back to his old
place—though it was a trial he shrank from—
had it repaired and fitted up. But you know
all this, or must have guessed."

"Never, never!" said Lucy, getting up to
walk about. "Oh, what is to be done?"

"Now, we may all ask that," said Constance.
"He is the noblest and most generous of men.
Did you not see with what calm dignity he bore
all those cruel suspicions—which, let me say,
should not have come from—"

"I know it, I know it, indeed," said Lucy,
despairingly.

"About those wretched adventurers who
fled last night, was he not right? You thought
it was all spite, because they were friends of
yours. Ah! it was because they were friends of
yours he bore all that. And, oh, that cruel,
cruel story sent round, that he, the man who had
sacrificed so much for you, would have spied on
you at that little fair, and circulated scandals.
You should have known that was false, and
not believed it a second. Not a word, not a
whisper, passed his lips. When I tell you that
Captain Filby was there—"

"Oh, what have I done?" said Lucy, infinitely
shocked. "Why did I not know all this before?
What can I do now?—tell me." She paused,
then started. "Let us go to him at once. I
long to see him, to beg his pardon."

The next number will contain the second Portion of
                HOLIDAY ROMANCE,

              BY CHARLES DICKENS;
Which will be continued in each Monthly Part until
       completed in Four monthly Portions.

In No. 460, for Saturday, the 15th instant, will appear the
                     second Portion of
             GEORGE SILVERMAN'S
                     EXPLANATION.
        ALSO BY CHARLES DICKENS.
The third and concluding Portion will be published in
       No. 462, for Saturday, 29th instant.