"You are sure that Herbert intends coming this evening ?" asked Sir Percy Derville of his daughter, as they were seated in the drawingroom, at Derville Court, on an evening in July.

'Oh, yes!" was the answer; "he wrote yesterday to that effect."

"How does he purpose to get here? will he drive over from the Park?" "I scarcely think so. He is in London, and I expect he will come straight to us."

"He can scarcely do that; he must have gone to Lee Park." "Why?" asked Alice, innocently. "The last train must have arrived some time ago. If he does not come shortly, I shall despair of seeing him this evening. I am sorry, Alice, that he has been detained. However, there is little to arrange; after all it will be a mere matter of form. I can trust everything to Herbert's honour; had it not been so, indeed, I should never have given my consent to your union: As it is, I feel the greatest pleasure in the contemplation of your coming happiness."

Alice looked gratefully at the Baronet. "You have spoken truly, papa; it will, indeed, be happiness. You will be quite safe in leaving everything to Herbert. I have no doubt he has been detained this evening on some business, otherwise he would have been here before this."

faster, as she listened to the quick tramp of the horse's feet.

"Here is Herbert, papa !" she exclaimed, joyfully.

He is coming at a tremendous pace," observed Sir Percy. "He is afraid of detaining you,

papa."

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Perhaps, also, there is another reason for his haste. What say you, Alice?"

She smiled at his words. At the same moment there was a loud and hurried peal at the gate.

From the room in which the Baronet and his daughter were sit ting they could not see the person who was approaching, but they could distinctly hear the hasty tones in which he addressed the servant, as he halted at the door.

Sir Percy started uneasily as he caught the sound of the voice, for it was not that of Herbert Lee.

While they were both expecting the announcement of the visitor, the door was thrown suddenly and violently open, and a man, booted and spurred, and covered with dust, abruptly entered the room. Scarcely regarding the presence of Alice Derville, he laid his hand somewhat familiarly on the Baronet's arm.

"Sir Percy," said the stranger, "I must speak with you instantlyinstantly!"

The man who had burst with such lack of ceremony upon the Baronet's

At that instant there was heard in the distance the sound of a horseman approaching at a rapid pace. The sounds grew louder and louder, and Alice's heart beat faster and

height, with grey eyes, and expression of countenance that betokened much resolution and firmness of purpose. A glance at his face told. but too plainly that he was hot-tempered and vindictive, dangerous to

be thwarted in any scheme upon which he had set his heart. He He turned quickly to Alice, and apologised for his unceremonious en

trance.

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"Alice, my dear," said Sir Percy, may I ask you to leave us for a few moments ?"

No sooner had his daughter complied with his wish than he asked, in an eager tone, "What brings you here, Wilde? Where have you come from ?"

"I have just arrived from London." "Not by the train?"

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Yes, by the train. There has been a terrible accident; hence the delay in putting in my appearance."

"An accident!" exclaimed the Baronet, in consternation, for he thought of Alice, how great her alarm would be should the news reach her ears.

"There was a collision about twenty miles from here. Our train ran into an excursion, or something of the sort; at any rate, it was thrown off the line, and, as you may imagine, there is great commotion at the station."

"Are there many injured ?"

Two killed, and, I am sorry to say, very many seriously wounded; but we must not waste time over the discussion of such a thing as this even. I have news for you which far transcends everything else in importance."

"What news, Wilde?"

"I had better not disguise the matter. I have the very worst tidings for you."

Sir Percy Derville turned very pale as he listened; he felt intuitively that this Alfred Wilde was the bearer of calamitous news the herald of disaster and ruin. With an effort he partially recovered his selfpossession, and, walking up to the spot where his visitor stood, he placed his hand on his shoulder and said,

"Speak Wilde; tell me what you have to say; I am prepared for the worst."

"Then I will speak plainly: Sir Percy Derville, you are a ruined. man.'

"Ah! how?" he asked in a tone of calmness wonderful to hear. The desperate effort which he had made to control himself was at first so successful that Wilde was positively startled; but it lasted only for a few minutes. He then said somewhat impatiently, "Tell me further?”

"I will. The Weatherby affair has all come to nothing."

"And so the whole sum of money that I embarked in that business is gone?"

"Positively and absolutely gone." "Is there no hope?"

"None whatever. There is rumour in London-and to the best of my belief well founded-that John Weatherby has absconded, and has carried with him every penny that he could lay hands on; consequently there will be absolutely no dividend."

Sir Percy pressed his hand to his forehead, and, for a moment, seemed lost in the contemplation of the overwhelming calamity that threat ened him. His companion surveyed him with a calm and keen eye, carefully noting every change in the expression of his countenance.

"If what you have told me be true," said the Baronet, suddenly, "I am a beggar-a ruined man, indeed; there will again be a run on the Broadhurst bank, for the affair must soon get wind

"The affair has already got wind," said Wilde, in a cold-blooded tone; "uneasiness already prevails respecting your resources, and unless you adopt prompt measures you will be lost."

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Prompt measures!" exclaimed Sir Percy, somewhat angrily; "what do you mean, Wilde? You know it is entirely out of my power to adopt any measures at all. If there is

a run on the bank, I must stop pay. ment."

"Stop payment" repeated the other, slowly; "will you do this?

Will Sir Percy Derville, of Derville Court, Baronet and Banker, proclaim to the world that he is a ruined man? Will the leader of the county abdicate his high position, and confess his further impotence for good or evil? Will the haughty scion of the Dervilles forego his claim to be considered the first man in Broadhurst, and face his neighbours as a penniless beggar? Will he do this without a struggle ?"

"Wilde, you are taunting me; you know that it will cost me a bitter pang. But where is my alternative." "There is an alternative." "Where ?"

"Do you remember the last run upon the Bank ?”

"Too well."

A sinister smile crossed the face of the hearer.

"You are leaning on a broken reed," he replied, incisively. "What if I tell you that it is not in the power of the Lees to save you?"

"I should pronounce it false." "False false !' Sir Percy Derville, these are hard words; but I will pass that over. No help can come from that quarter."

"Wilde, for Heaven's sake, speak; keep me not in this suspense. The Lees are reputed to be nearly the wealthiest people in the county."

"Perhaps so; but you must not forget that the Banker of Broadhurst has a similar reputation-withwhat justice you know, as well as I can tell you.'

"On your honour, have the affairs of Lee Park suffered any change?"

"On my honour, Sir Percy. You must have been aware that a considerable portion of the revenues of Herbert Lee's father was derived from property in which he had only a life interest."

"Has he not still these resources?" "No! An event has just occurred which has materially changed the situation."

"What is that?" asked Sir Percy, anxiously.

"Moreton Lee is dead." "Dead!" echoed the other,startling. "Even so! Both the Lees came down by the same train as myself. Young Lee escaped unhurt, but his father was killed on the spot."

Sir Percy Derville remained speechless for some minutes, deeply moved by this intelligence; but Wilde soon interrupted his reverie.

"Sir Percy," he said, in stern tones, fixing his eyes full upon the Baronet's face, " take these papers; read them; they will show you the desperate state of the finances of Lee Park. You must form your decision speedily. Time is precious. To-morrow, or the next day, will bring the first symptoms of the coming storm."

THE Lees, of Lee Park, were an old family, who had resided upon their estates, in the county of Broadshire, for many generations. They had taken but little part in public affairs. No Lee, within the memory of living men, had ever represented a constituency in Parliament, or aspired to do so. They confined themselves rather to the peculiar sphere in which they lived, and occupied, willingly and cheerfully, the position of country gentlemen. The tenants upon their estate were well cared for and leniently treated: nor wasa Lee ever known to press a farmer who had been unfortunate in his crops, and so was unable to pay his The Squire, as he was called, had been deservedly popular and respected; and though the Banker of Broadhurst had always occupied the most prominent position in the county society, still most people knew that, had the owner of Lee Park been inclined to dispute this pre-eminence, the issue of the contest would have been doubtful.

rent.

But the Lees and Dervilles had been always the closest friends, and were so at the present period; and when Sir Percy received the intelligence of the sudden death of the Squire, he was much grieved at the loss of so good a friend and neighbour, and was still more startled when he perused the papers which Wilde had delivered into his hands. They convinced him beyond all doubt that the family were not only powerless to assist him, but were themselves irreparably ruined. He saw that there was but one method of

escape for him if he meant to stand he must close with Wilde's terms.

Meanwhile, Alice Derville had heard many and wild reports concerning the accident on the railway, and as Wilde was quitting the house she saw by the expression of his countenance that something unusual had happened. She met him at the hall-door. He raised his hat to her; but she walked up to him, and said:— "Mr. Wilde, what is this that I hear?-is it true?"

"What do you speak of, Miss Derville?" he replied, thoroughly taken aback; and he began to consider whether she could have heard of the catastrophe that was awaiting her father. But she soon relieved him from his suspense.

"The collision on the railway, Mr. Wilde ?"

"I regret to inform you that the London train has met with an accident."

"Tell me do you know whether Mr. Lee and his son came down by this train ?"

"They did."

"And," said Alice, and she held her breath as if not daring to put the question that was fraught with so fearful an interest to her; but she was in a perfect fever of suspense.

"I regret to say," replied Wilde, "that Mr. Lee's life is despaired off; but Mr. Herbert Lee has escaped unhurt as myself."

"Thank God!" ejaculated Alice, fervently: for though, by the tone of the speaker's voice, she saw but too well that the Squire was really

dead, she almost overlooked that calamity in the thought that Herbert had escaped.

When he had made this communication, Alfred felt that, much as he might wish, this was scarcely the fitting time to press his suit. As, however, he was on the point of leaving, Alice extended her hand to him, and he, apparently unable to resist the temptation, not only pressed it warmly, but raised it to his lips.

This the banker's daughter instantly resented! hastily withdrawing her hand she left him, without a word, merely bowing coldly.

:

"Confusion!" muttered Wilde, as he clapped spurs to his horse and rode off; "but the day will come when she will no longer refuse my attentions when she will, perhaps, welcome them eagerly. I can bide my time; but I must make sure of my prize. This haughty Baronet. must see that I hold his fortunes in the palm of my hand-that it is in my power to crush or save him. I must strike the iron while it is hot." No sooner had Wilde departed than Alice hastened to seek her father. She went quickly from room to room, but her search was unsuccessful, and she was somewhat perplexed. Suddenly, she bethought herself of the library, which she had as yet omitted to visit, knowing well that her father seldom frequented it. She turned the handle of the door; it was locked. She knocked for some minutes without obtaining any answer, till, at length, when alarms were beginning to rise, and vague fears were flitting across her mind, the banker exclaimed, in hoarse and unnatural tones

"Who is there ?"

"It is I, father--Alice." After a few moments of apparent hesitation, the door was opened; Sir Percy Derville was standing, with a wild and haggard look upon his face, gazing at a table which was covered with papers.

Father," she said, "is not this terrible news?"

"What terrible news ?" he asked, in startled tones. He was thinking of his conversation with Wilde.

"This accident on the railway."

"Yes, my child." And then he said, in a tone of unnatural excitement, "Alice, you must leave me, I have much to do."

He closed the door again, and locked it; a thing which puzzled and alarmed his daughter, so opposed was this conduct to the natural disposition of the baronet.

Alice listened for some time outside. She could hear the heavy step of Sir Percy, as he paced slowly and heavily up and down the room. Once or twice she heard him speaking aloud, and then his voice rolled and swelled till it reached a pitch of anger and resentment that terrified the listener.

"Never! never!" he was heard to exclaim; and then for a few minutes there was quiet.

But Alice grew faint and sick at heart, and crept trembling to her chamber, hoping to drown her thoughts and dispel her cares in placid sleep. But neither slumber nor rest came to her. She tossed from side to side; she thought on the untimely death of Moreton Lee; on Herbert himself, and on his escape; and even as she lay and pondered, a vague fear oppressed her lest Wilde's information should have been incorrect; lest Herbert should have shared his father's fate. And then she remembered the strange change in her father's demeanour. Ease, happiness, and peace had fled; terror, suspense, and vague alarm had settled upon her mind, and tormented her brain.

In the morning she found her father apparently restored to his natural state of calmness and equanimity. Once or twice she ventured to allude to his agitation on the preceding night, but the Baronet abruptly and instantly shifted the