clothes" (and very speaking, very telling articles they were, in Violet's eyes at least) walked with them, bareheaded, with the sun shining on his dark curls, the same bold brown boy who had carried off the little girl from the Hewan six years before, though by this time much more obsequious to Vi. He showed himself most willing and ready all day to be the cicerone of "his cousins ;" and when in the evening, Violet, holding fast by her father's arm, her heart beating high with pleasures past and pleasures to come, walked down to the rafts in company with Val in the aquatic splendours of his boating costume-straw hat wreathed with flowers, blue jacket and white trousers-the girl would have been very much unlike other girls if she had not been dazzled by this versatile hero, grand in academic magnificence in the morning, and resplendent now in the uniform of the river. "I am so sorry I can't take you out myself," said Val, "for of course I must go with my boat; but I have a man here, the best of fellows, who will row you up to Surly. Here, Brown," he cried, "get out the nicest gig you have, and come yourself-there's a good fellow. I want my cousins to see everything. Oh, I'll speak to Harry, and make it all right. I want you, and nobody else," he added, looking with friendly eyes at his protégé. I don't think Mr Pringle heard this address, but looking round suddenly, he saw a young man standing by Valentine whose appearance made his heart jump. "Good God!" he cried instinctively, staring at him. Dick had grown and developed in these years. He had lost altogether the slouch of the tramp, and was, if not so handsome as Val, trim and well made, with a chest expanded by constant exercise, and his head erect with the constant habit of attention. He

was dressed in one of Val's own coats, and no longer looked like a lad on the rafts. For those who did not look closely, he might have been taken for one of Val's schoolfellows, so entirely had he fallen into the ways and manners of "the gentlemen." He was as fair as Val was dark, about the same height, and though not like Val, was so like another face which Mr Pringle knew, that his heart made a jump into his mouth with wonder and terror. Perhaps he might not have remarked this likeness but for the strange association of the two lads, standing side by side as they were, and evidently on the most friendly terms. 'Who is that?" cried Mr Pringle, staring with wide-open eyes.

"It is the best fellow in the world," cried Val, laughing, as Dick sprang aside to arrange the cushions in a boat which lay alongside the raft. "He'll take you up

to Surly faster than any one else on the river.'

"But, Valentine-it is very kind of him," said Vi, hesitating-" but you did not introduce him to

"Oh, he's not a gentleman," said Val, lightly; "that is to say," he added, seeing Dick within reach, with a hasty blush, "he's as good in himself as any one I know; but he aint one of the fellows, Vi; he works at the rafts-his name is Brown. Now, do you think you can steer? You used to, on the water at home."

"Oh yes," said Violet, with modest confidence. Val stood and looked after them as the boat glided away up the crowded river; then he stalked along through the admiring crowd, feeling as a man may be permitted to feel who holds the foremost rank on a day of fête and universal enjoyment.

"To him each lady's look was lent,

On him each courtier's eye was bent."

To be sure there were a great many others almost as exalted as Val; and only the initiated knew that he rowed in the Eight, and was captain of the Victory, the best boat on the river. He stalked along to his boat, over the delicious turf of the Brocas, in the afternoon sunshine, threading his way through throngs of ladies in pretty dresses, and hundreds of white-waistcoated Etonians. How proud the small boys who knew him were, after receiving a nod from the demigod as he passed, to discourse loudly to gracious mother or eager sister, Val's style and title! "That's Ross at my dame's he's in the Eight-he won the school sculling last summer half; and we think we'll get the House Fours, now he's captain. He's an awfully jolly fellow when you know him," crowed the small boys, feeling themselves exalted in the grandeur of this acquaintance; and the pretty sisters looked after Val, a certain awe mingling with their admiration; while Philistines and strangers, unaccompanied by even a small boy, felt nobodies, as became them. Then came the start up the river. Never was a prettier sight than this ceremonial. The river all golden with afternoon glory; the great trees on the Brocas expanding their huge boughs in the soft air, against the sky; the banks all lined with animated, bright-coloured clouds; the stream alive with attendant boats; and the great noble pile of the castle looking down serene from its height upon the children and subjects at its royal feet, making merry under its great and calm protection. It is George III.'s birthday - poor, obstinate, kindly old soul!-and this is how a lingering fragrance of kindness grows into a sort of fame. They say he was paternally fond and proud of the boys, who thus yearly, without knowing it, celebrate him still.

Dick took his boat with Val's cousins in it up the river, and waited there among the willows, opposite the beautiful elms of the Brocas, till the "Boats" went past in gay procession. He pointed out Val's boat and Val's person to Violet with a pleasure as great as her own. "It is the best boat on the river, and he is one of the best oars," cried Dick, his honest fair face glowing with pleasure. "We all think his house must win the House Foursthey didn't last year, for Mr Lichen was still here, and he's heavier than Mr Ross; but Grinder's will have it this time." Dick's face so brightened with generous delight, and acquired an expression so individual and characteristic, that Mr Pringle began to breathe freely, and to say to himself that fancy had led him astray.

"Do you belong to this place?" he asked, when they started again to follow the boats up the river in the midst of a gay flotilla, looking Dick very steadily, almost severely, in the face.

"Not by birth, sir," said Dick. "Indeed, I don't belong anywhere; but I'm settled here, I hope, for good."

"But you don't mean to say you are a boatman?" said Mr Pringle; "you don't look like it. It must be a very precarious life."

"I am head man at the rafts," said Dick-" thanks to Mr Ross, who got me taken on when I was a lad"(he was eighteen then, but maturity comes early among the poor), "and we're boat-builders to our trade. You should see some of the boats we turn out, sir, if you care for such things."

"But I suppose, my man, you have had a better education than is usual?" said Mr Pringle, looking so gravely at him that Dick thought he must disapprove of such vanities. "You don't speak in the

least like the other lads about here."

"I suppose it's being so much with the gentlemen," said Dick, with a smile. "I am no better than the other lads. Mr Ross has given me books-and things."

"Mr Ross must have been very kind to you," said Mr Pringle, with vague suspicions which he could not define " he must have known you before?"

"Hasn't he just been kind to me!" said Dick, a flush coming to his fair face; "an angel couldn't have been kinder! No, I never saw him till two years ago; but lucky for me, he took a fancy to me —and I, if I may make so bold as to say so, to him."

"Mr Brown," said Violet, looking at him with a kind of heavenly dew in her dark eyes-for to call such effusion of happiness tears would be a word out of place-"I am afraid, if we are going through the lock, I shall not be able to steer."

This was not the least what she wanted to say. What she wanted to say was, I can see you are a dear, dear, good fellow, and I love you for being so fond of Val; and how Dick should have attained to a glimmering of understanding, and known that this was what she meant, I cannot tell-but he did. Such things happen now and then even in this stupid everyday world.

"Never mind, miss," he said cheerfully, looking back at her with his sunshiny blue eyes, "I can manage. Hold your strings fast, that you may not lose them: the steerage is never much use in a lock; and if you're nervous, there's the Sergeant, who is a great friend of Mr Ross's, will pull us through."

The lock was swarming with boats, and Violet, not to say her father, who was not quite sure about this mode of progression, looked up with hope and admiration at the

erect figure of the Sergeant, brave and fine in his waterman's dress with his silver buttons, and medals of a fiercer service adorning his blue coat. The Sergeant had shed his blood for his country before he came to superintend the swimming of the favoured ones on the Thames. His exploits in the water and those of his pupils are lost to the general public, from the unfortunate fact that English prejudice objects to trammel the limbs of its natateurs by any garments. But literature lifts its head in unsuspected places, and the gentle reader will be pleased to learn that the Sergeant's Book on Swimming will soon make the name, which I decline to deliver to premature applauses, known over all the world. He looked to Violet, who was somewhat frightened by the crowds of boats, like an archangel in silver buttons, as he caught the boat with his long pole, and guided them safely through.

I cannot, however, describe in detail all the pretty particulars of the scene, which excited and delighted Violet more than words can tell.

Her father was infinitely less interested than usual in her pleasures, having something else in his mind, which he kept turning over and over in his busy brain, while he led her round the supper-table of the boys at Surly, or held her fast during the fireworks at the end of the evening. Was this the other? If it was the other, what motive could the Eskside people have to hide him, to keep him in an inferior station? Did Val know? and if Val knew, how could he be so rash as to present to his natural adversary, a boy who had in every feature Dick Ross's face? Mr Pringle was bewildered with these thoughts. Now and then, when Dick's face brightened into expressiveness, he said to himself that it was all nonsense, that he was crazy

on this point, and that any fair lad who appeared by Val's side would immediately look like Richard in his prejudiced eyes. Altogether he was more uncomfortable than I can describe, and heartily glad when the show was over. He took Val by the arm when he came to say good-bye to them, and drew him aside for a moment.

"Does your grandfather know of your intimacy with this lad?" he asked, with the morose tone which his voice naturally took when he was excited.

"Yes, of course they do," said Val, indignant. "I never hid anything from them-why should I?" "Who is he, then? I think I have a right to know," said Mr Pringle.

"A right to know! I don't understand you," said Val, beginning to feel the fiery blood tingling in his veins; but he thought of Vi, and restrained himself.

"He is Brown," he said, with a laugh; "that's all I know about him. You're welcome to know as

much as I do; though as for right, I can't tell who has the right. You can ask the men at the rafts, who have just the same means of information as I."

While this conversation was going on, Violet had spoken softly to Dick. "Mr Brown," she said, being naturally respectful of all strangers, "I am so glad of what you told us about Mr Ross."

"Thank you, ma'am," said Dick; "you could not be more glad to hear than I am to tell. I should like to let every one know that though he's only a boy, he's been the making of me."

"But I beg your pardon-are you older than a boy ?" said Vi.

Dick laughed. "When you have to work for your living, you're a man before you know," he said, with a certain oracular wisdom that sank deeply into Vi's mind. But the next moment her father called her somewhat sharply, and she awoke with a sigh to the consciousness that this wonderful day was over, and that she must go away.

This was Val's last summer at Eton; he went away with deep regret, as all well-conditioned boys do, and was petted and made much of at home in the interval between his school and his university life. Lady Eskside, who had once carried little Val with her, with care so anxious, was proud and happy beyond description now when Val accompanied her anywhere with that air of savoir faire and intimate knowledge of the world which distinguishes his kind. He had already a circle much enlarged from hers, and knew people whom even the Dowager Duchess, who was more in the world than Lady Eskside, could not pretend

to know. He was a head taller than good-natured Lord Hightowers, and a thousand times handsomer and better bred. "But not the least like his father," said her Grace, with pointed particularity. "Not so like as he was," said Lady Eskside, not unprepared for this attack; "but I can still see the resemblance-though the difference of complexion is bewildering to those who don't know both faces so well as I do," she added, with a smile. To be sure, no one else could know the two faces as well as she did. Val was extremely well received in the county, and considered, young as he was, an acquisition to general society; and was