her interview with Madame Bertin, she was almost glad she had found no reason for suspecting her of having in any way caused the child's disappearance.

Scarcely any action is the result of but one strong motive. Certainly since she had seen Mr. Hackett, Miss Megaw's hopes of advancing the work she had undertaken had not been very great. But when before the lawyer's arguments the motive grew weak, which had she believed first put the journey into her head, she found her desire to set out not one bit diminished. It was not till she saw Madame Bertin face to face, that she understood how deep had been her interest in the woman who was Mr. Prendergast's wife; or how much this feeling, apart from other motives, had had to do with her journey. We try to deceive ourselves often, no doubt, but we are sometimes deceived also.

Not, however, that the recovery of Mr. Prendergast's daughter had become less an object of her desires. On the contrary, now that she had seen the mother and lost her belief in a vulgar ideal, the thought of finding the daughter excited her energies even more than before. But her eyes were turning back towards England as the scene of her future labours.

She saw Madame Bertin taice again before leaving Paris, and gratified her curiosity on many points connected with Mr. Prendergast's life and habits. She also gave her such comfort as she could. It was not very profound in wisdom or wide in range of thought, but the unhappy Frenchwoman felt that it came from a mind intimately acquainted with the sorrows she had endured, and it is human nature to value most the sympathy of those who know our ills best. The woman who has just lost her first-born scarcely hears the words of con

solation that fall from a maiden's

lips.

"You have done me good," said Madame Bertin when they were parting; "your memory will be very pleasant to me. Do not forget to write to me if you find out anything. And for him- -tell him I will try to forgive him, s'il le vent." And as she watched the tall thin figure pass slowly out of the room. she felt a pang of regret. The Englishwoman, who had seemed so typically gaunt and awkward at first, had proved herself too sympathetic not to be missed when she was gone. "She is not stiff from her own coldness," thought Madame Bertin, "she is petrified with sorrow and the frigidness of the world. If only she had married Mr. Prendergast, both to him and to me she would have spared much; and for herself-c'est une brave femme. Elle méritait le bonheur."

From Paris Miss Megaw travelled back straight to Glenriveen, stopping one day in Dublin on her way to call on Mr. Hatchett, and return the bank order, and at the same time tell him a little of her opinion of Madame Bertin.

"I am glad you have come round to my way of thinking," said Mr. Hatchett. "I really never suspected her. From the very beginning my ideas pointed in another direction; but Mr. Hogg disagreed with me. Do you intend letting the matter rest now? ""

"That will depend on Mr. Prendergast's wishes. I am ready to try, by every means in my power, to recover his daughter, if he is willing I should do so."

Next day, late in the evening, Miss Megaw was once more back at Glenriveen, and found that, though expected in a day or two, Janet Prendergast had not yet come to take up her abode at her uncle's. At first, when she told Mr. Prendergast what had passed between

herself and his wife, and of the impression made upon her by that lady, his humour was none of the gentlest. To her efforts to lessen his resentment against the unfortunate woman he only replied by sarcastic allusions and bitter laconic remarks. But to these little outbursts of temper Miss Megaw paid no attention; she knew her influence was strong enough to effect what she desired. And so it turned out. A few days after her return a letter left Glenriveen in his handwriting, addressed to his wife, containing a promise of three times the sum of money for which she had asked,

The day after Janet's arrival Miss Megaw went into Mr. Prendergast's study, to discuss a very important matter with him.

In her last interview with Madame Bertin, Miss Megaw had pretty well satisfied herself that, so far as the mother could tell, Mr. James Prendergast knew nothing of the child's existence or of his brother's marriage. But the idea that to his brother's machinations he owed the loss of his daughter was becoming a fixed idea in her mind.

"What first impelled me to begin this search, Alexander," she said, as soon as he had laid aside a book he was reading, "was my eager longing to do you a service before my death; but now, to this motive, strong enough to make me face the gravest difficulty and discouragement, another has been added. The more I think over it, the more I feel convinced that your brother is at the bottom of the mischief, and that, if the mystery is to be cleared up, it is upon him I must centre my attention. And I confess that to unmask him, or spoil his designs, I

would go through fire and water. Will you let me match myself against his cunning? I am weak, and a woman; but I bave right on my

side."

"What makes you think this?" asked Mr. Prendergast, delaying to answer her question.

"I can scarcely say-or rather, you know as well as I do. It is his character, his envious nature, his malignant spite against you that point him out to me as the guilty person. I see no one else to suspect. Do not refuse me."

"You are not strong enough for such a work. Let Mr. Hatchett take it in hand."

"No. It is almost my right to deal with him alone, Alexander. Let me try first; if I fail, then I will give up my place to another."

"What do you propose doing?"

66

My plans are not matured. You shall know to-morrow."

"I only ask one thing, Martha.” "What is that?"

"If in six months' time you have found out nothing, or have reached a certain point and are not able to get farther, you will let some one else try?"

"I will do so now if you choose,' she replied, but he saw what an effort the words cost her.

"No. Go into the thing singlehanded first," he said. Sometimes in these affairs we are impelled onwards by a force that it is unwise to resist. Try, and may God give you success; but let Mr. Hatchett advise you from time to time. His is a hard head, and he is perfectly trustworthy."

Next morning Miss Megaw unfolded her plan, and a couple of days later she left Glenriveen for London.