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but not in the centre of the almost square rectangle which, by their appearance, they seem to have originally occupied. While Linant makes these outside enclosures "square," and Lepsius "almost square,' Murray's Guide' makes them measure sixty-five feet by forty-five. Lepsius believes that their height was never greater than it is now-viz., twenty-three feetto which must be added a peculiar and somewhat projecting base of seven feet. The foundations were on Nile mud, and the inclination of their angle 64°, which is steeper than that of ordinary pyramids, and hence he concludes against Linant Bey's hypothesis. On the On the other hand, the lower stones bear the traces of water-the Nile mud may have been Lake Moris mud. There are no other remains within the area of the lake, and the remains of the dams would go to show that they stood in its extreme north-east angle. The fact that they were not ordinary pyramids, but rather pyramidal pedestals for statues, may account for the steeper inclination of their angles. At all events, the point is an interesting one, which a more thorough investigation would probably decide.

We should gladly have lingered longer in the Fayoum had it been in our power to take our tents and camels and wander about in search of the antique and the picturesque. Unfortunately, our experience of camel-riding had proved too fatiguing, and we were obliged to substitute another project, which, however, proved scarcely less agreeable. We could not leave the Fayoum without wondering at the neglect of the tourist who has done Thebes, and Luxor, and the Second Cataract, and is looking for more worlds to conquer of a region with so many attractions, and so accessible. The sportsman, the artist, and

find

the archæologist will all their tastes gratified in this charming oasis. The Birket el Kurûn offers, probably, better sport to the angler than he would find elsewhere in Egypt. In the thickets in some of the ravines are to be found wild boar; while lynxes, wolves, jackals, ichneumons, and hares are more or less abundant. Pelicans, wild geese, ducks, teal, and water-fowl of different varieties, frequent the marshy shores of the lake. The antiquarian would find Arsinoë, the Labyrinth, the Temple of Kasr Karoon, and the ruins on the western shores of the lake, full, not merely of interest, but of pos sible discoveries. At Senooris there are the graves of the early Christians who are said to have been martyred, and the peasantry have no scruple in exhuming them to satisfy the curiosity of the anthropologist who desires to have a specimen of an early Christian's skull, or the curious coffins in which their corpses were placed; while the fortress-like village of Tamiyeh, the thicket-clad gorge of Fidimin, and the broad precipitous wady at Nazlet, would offer subjects for the artist of a character not to be found elsewhere in Egypt. It is true that modern no less than ancient writers have in some respects exaggerated the luxuriance of the Fayoum. One writes of "a virgin forest," and of "orangetrees as big as oaks ;" and another of "a plantation of opuntia, the growth of which is so gigantic as almost to resemble a forest," which I happened to see, and which certainly fell far short of this description: but in spite of all this, there can be no doubt that the Fayoum possesses a charm denied to any other section of the country, and its brawling streams and verdant recesses will well repay the traveller in search of "fresh fields and pas

tures new."

THE PRIVATE SECRETARY.-PART IX.

CHAPTER XXIX.

HILDA waited for a minute, not to appear in a hurry, and to recover from the agitation into which the message had thrown her, and then passing out of the office, walked down the little passage towards Clifford's room. As she did so, Jane passed out by the outer door with her bonnet and scarf on, as if bound on an errand. Mrs. Simmonds Hilda had not seen that morning.

Clifford rose from his chair as she entered his room, and advancing, offered his hand, but without betraying any excitement in his manner, and, indeed, turning away his eyes to avoid her glances. His "Good morning, Hilda; pray take a seat," was spoken in his ordinary way, without any sign of emotion. Hilda, for her part, felt calmer than she had expected to be, and her composure returned entirely when he began to talk about her brother's departure, inquiring with a friendly interest into all the particulars.

And yet it was evident that Clifford was not quite at his ease. His calmness was simulated; he was trying to lead the conversation into another direction. At last he changed it abruptly.

"What do you think of my cousin, Hilda ?"

He spoke as if in jest, but yet watched her face eagerly to see how she would take it.

"Is that a fair question to ask?" she replied. The tone of her voice was a little scornful, but expressed also reproach and entreaty.

"Hilda," he continued, rising and taking his stand before the fireplace, the position he had occupied on the day of her first visit, while

she was now just before him in the chair, sitting in which she had written her introductory essay-a day separated from the present by a few weeks only, yet which now seemed a very long way off,"Hilda, I have something to tell you which you ought to know. It is not what you expect to hear,— at least," he added in confusion at his clumsiness, "I should say it mainly concerns my cousin and myself. Hilda, the world believes me to be rich, and thinks me a fortunate fellow; and, as you know, I have been spending money freely without let or hindrance. But I am little better than an impostor, so far at least as I have been imposing-on you. I have not even a life-interest in my fortune. have only a temporary use of it, subject to a certain condition, the time for fulfilling which is now fast approaching, and if I refuse to accept it, why, then, I am released from my golden fetters, but I become a beggar. Hilda, cannot you guess what that condition is?"

I

Hilda sat with folded hands and eyes turned away from him, looking straight in front of her, but a gleam of joy passed across her face. She understood what the condition was, and could not doubt that he was going to refuse it; and for the moment the thought of the consequences to him was hidden by the sweet consciousness that the sacrifice would be made for her sake.

"Although this necessity," he continued, "has always been before me, ever since I first came into possession of my income, it was present only in a faint, indefinite sort of way. The years passed on. I

heard nothing of my relatives, except by report. Blanche's father was reputed to be very rich; he does not care to secure my money for her, I thought; my fortune appears insignificant to him; he is not going to hold me to the bargain; we shall both be free. The time approached when his part of the conditions had to be acted on; when either they must come and seek me out, or else in six months more I should be free and my own master. But I heard nothing of them, and had hardly taken count of the time that was so near at hand, when suddenly-on that day you must remember, the day you first graced this room with your sweet presence I got the fatal news. Blanche and her mother had arrived in London.

"I could not doubt what their purpose was. I remembered now that there were just the six months remaining before the completion of the time specified in the will, which were to be allowed me for making my cousin's acquaintance. She and her mother had come to seek me out, according to the clause which required them to do so. The other side intended to fulfil their part of the compact; I was challenged to fulfil mine."

Still his listener made no answer, but her face assumed a graver aspect.

"At one time," continued the speaker, looking down, and speak ing in a low voice, "the condition did not seem so very difficult. I was heart-whole then. I tried hard to fancy myself in love with my cousin you know how beautiful she is and I might perhaps have succeeded, although I should never have been so infatuated as to believe that she would return the feeling; but something came in the way you know what I mean. I would not marry my cousin now,

supposing she would still care to take me, even were I in despair at not being able to gain what my heart is set upon. Hilda, I don't want to make much of the sacrifice, such as it is. After all, there is not much sacrifice involved in giving up what costs too much to keep. Besides, it is only stripping myself of what is adventitious about myself, that I can find out whether I have gained that which alone I prize, to be loved for my own sake. Hilda," he continued, in a voice hoarse with emotion, his words coming with difficulty, "beggared as I am, and with nothing but myself to offer, I shall deem myself still rich beyond count if I have gained that which I seek."

Still she did not speak. But he needed no answer in words. Her face was now turned upwards towards his, and the frank loving glance she gave him told him all. It seemed to say that his sacrifice should be repaid. This sweet and tender creature, whose virtues and graces he had come to know so well, had given him her heart in return for his.

He longed to seize her in his arms, to allow himself one lover's embrace, but was kept back by the knowledge that even yet she might turn from him with horror. had not yet told her all.

He

She

should not have cause to feel sullied by even one kiss, till she gave it of her own free will, knowing

all.

"But do you realise all that is implied in this?" he continued, in a low earnest voice, looking at her fondly, but still standing in his old place.

"It means absolute beggary. I have not saved a shilling. What an idiot I have been, to be sure, not to have put by my income while it was mine! I should have saved quite enough by this time for my simple wants. But I went on,

living in a fool's paradise of vacuity. Because my cousin and her family were abroad, I put off looking my fate in the face. Something, I thought, when I thought about it at all, might turn up to alter the course of things. Something has turned up. And now, having drawn a bill on futurity, it has to be met, and I have not saved a shilling, and am quite incapable of earning my livelihood. Am I too to be supported by your exertions? And where will you bestow them? Where will you find another employer, when I am no longer able to employ you myself? A pretty pass I have brought things to, truly, by my indolence and folly !"

Hilda sat still, save for the nervous movement of her folded hands. Her face was now turned away, and she looked wearily before her. The transient feeling of delight had passed away-her heart was full of love and pity and despair. She could not say that he must not make the sacrifice. She could not counsel him to save his fortune by the only way open to him; yet the announcement of his ruin crushed out of her the joy of having gained his love. Hilda was no longer a romantic girl. The stern ordeal she had undergone had laid bare only too clearly the grim hardships of poverty. She could not say to him,-Take me, and together we will face the world. She knew by bitter experience all the degradation and the mean shifts involved in trying to live without means. Poverty for gentlefolks, she knew, meant duns and insolence to encounter, and want of proper food and clothing. She could not let him burden himself with her. Even her own means of living seemed crumbling away. And compared with the ills of actual poverty, how small appeared the troubles caused by mere family

jars! Her present home, once so distasteful, looked like a haven of perfect happiness compared with the drear prospect now dimly facing her. As these thoughts coursed through her mind, she could not find words of comfort or consolation for her lover or herself.

Clifford still remained standing silent and apart. Presently he said, "There is yet one way of escape."

Hilda started and looked up at him. Her bright glance gave him hope.

"I have not told you all," he said, "or rather, you have not yet been able to infer all that is implied in the position. Hilda, if you marry me, you marry a beggar. And yet that I should marry the one woman who alone could avert beggary is more than ever impossible, after what I have learnt of your heart. Now I am pledged to you for ever. And oh, Hilda, dearest, think how much is implied in this! What a change your presence here has made in my life! Before you came to light up the house, all was dull and gloomy. I busied myself in a way, but my life was really flat and insipid-how much so I never fully understood till now. I did my day's task; but it was a task. But your coming here changed everything. It was not the first day, or the second, that the change came about. Have I not said that till lately my thoughts were turned another way? But latterly I have been wholly loyal to you as you gradually took possession of me. Do you know how I have listened day by day for the sound of your footstep on the stairs, as you came to lighten up my gloomy house? Every minute passed with you has been happiness, as I came to know you better and better. A husband, I think, could not know his wife better than I know you, and I have dared to hope that the time might

come when, instead of seeing you for a few minutes in the day, and making all these pretexts and pretences for being with you, you would not have to come and go, but you would be here always, mine by day and night-all reserve between us removed: you mine in everything, and I yours, to be scolded and ordered about in your own pretty way, and no question of salary or gratitude between us. Gratitude! the gratitude would be all mine. And then, perhaps, while I grew fonder and fonder of you-for my love would always increase and never tire-you might come to give me the same sort of warm love in return. To think of all this happiness, and yet to feel that I am painting a picture of what can never happen, unless

Hilda rose by a sudden impulse, and placing her hands on his shoulders, rested her head against his face.

Per

"Can it be," thought the enraptured lover, as he folded her in his arms, "that she really gives herself to me? But there must be no misunderstanding or mistake. haps even now, in her innocence, she does not understand me. Listen, my dearest," he said, releasing her and then taking her hands in his, while he looked at her with ardent glances, "I have still something to say; I have not told you all. If I marry any one but my cousin, every shilling I have goes to her; but if I do not marry, have still something left, not very much, but still something-enough to live upon,-more than sufficient for my modest wants."

I

Hilda, whose face had been averted while he was speaking, looked up at him now with a glance in which joy and grief were blended. "Then you are saved!" she cried. "Oh, Mr. Clifford! oh, Robert, I am so glad, so very glad—for you."

Then she looked down again, away from him.

"For me, Hilda ! Why for me Have you nothing to say

only? for yourself?"

"I could not wish you to marry your-where your heart is not given," she answered, speaking with difficulty, her modest eyes still averted. "I am selfish enough not to wish to see you married to another woman-at least not just now. But you are saved from actual poverty, and I know what a dreadful thing that is. You will live to get over your feeling for me," she added, withdrawing the hands which he had still been clasping. "And for myself," she continued, looking round at him and trying to smile, "I must try and be brave. I believe," said poor Hilda, "I was not made to be happy."

"But is there no other alternative?" he cried, and his voice was thick and hoarse with passion and excitement. "We love each other; we are both free; we are both lonely; and you know me well enough to trust me. Hilda, darling, may we not be united in heart and feeling, and every real bond save the formal one? Why should we be apart when we might live together in mutual trust and confidence? I can know no happiness without you, were I to live for ever."

Clifford had rightly guessed that this proposal would not arouse in his companion any outburst of indignation. She must know him well enough to be sure that he would never subject her to any outward degradation, and that if she gave herself to him there need be no loss of self-respect beyond what was inevitable in such a connection. Still he could not be certain how the proposal would be received, and as he finished speaking he looked eagerly towards her,

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