Helen was pronounced quite well enough to drive to the office that afternoon; so accordingly the victoria was again brought to the front door and Helen, Lawrence and Mulberry all got in. It was not considered necessary for Gladys to go too.

On arriving at Cannon Street Netherby opened the door of the office, for he expected them all the morning. Mr. Spriggs (the solicitor) was there too.

Helen was soon seated at the desk and the roll of paper, containing Cyril's story was untied amidst a breathless silence.

It was very touchingly written and stated how Cyril, led away by Mr. Palsey, had contrived to find out where Mr. Winston kept his money; and how, still under Mr. Palsey's influence had gone up to Warwick to plan the murder of poor John Winston. He fully acknowledged his guilt, but declared over and over again that he never would have done it without Mr. Palsey's aid. It ended by a heartfelt intreaty for forgiveness.

Helen's voice faltered a little in places, but she never really broke down till the last word had fallen from her lips, then she sobbed softly, while Mr. Spriggs bustled about and put away the papers.

Lawrence took Helen's hand and tried to comfort her but it seemed useless.

Meanwhile Lord Beaufort sought out Netherby and engaged him as footman. The poor man was highly delighted for he was getting no pay at present and as every one knew Mulbery Beaufort was not at all scanty in the way of wages.

Helen seemed very dull and depressed all the way home but she shed no more tears.

Soon after 5 o'clock Lawrence began to grow very restless so lighting a cigarette he strolled into the garden to enjoy the last glimpse of day-light. Some how his steps led him to the crocus bed and here he continued to walk up and down his thoughts occupied with Helen Winston.

As Lady Beaufort had said the crocus bed was a delightfully quiet spot. Not a soul was to be seen any where, and a general air of peace pervaded the whole atmosphere. Lawrence continued to walk up and down lost in his rapturous reveries, while the evening grew darker and darker. By and by the stars began to come out and at length the moon rose full in the heavens, and then Lawrence looked up and there in front of him stood Helen, clad in her evening dress of pale yellow and a white shawl thrown round her shoulders.

She seemed as supprised as Lawrence for she stopped suddenly on seeing him.

"I beg your pardon Mr. Lincarrol" she began "I hope I am not disturbing you, but Lady Beaufort told me to come here before dinner and see if Jefferson (the gardiner) had raked the beds properly."

Lawrence grew very red and glanced quickly and mechanically up to the window of Lady Beaufort's budoir. There sure enough the old lady was looking out, but on seeing the two together she quickly retired into the regions of her own bedroom.

"This is Lady Beaufort's doing thought Lawrence as the letter he had received came back to his mind. "Oh no you dont disturb me at all" he added aloud.

Helen smiled and began plucking at the faded leaves of the trees.

"What a lovely night it is" said Lawrence at last as the silence grew embarresing.

"Yes" replied Helen vaguely and Lawrence glancing at her saw by the moonlight that her eyes had a far away dreamy look in them.

"How delightfully sheltered this part of the garden is" continued Lawrence.

"Yes very answered Helen, drawing her silk shawl over her shoulders as a slight breeze blew across the garden.

"Had you a good garden where you lived before?" enquired Lawrence, unconsiously leading up to his proposal.

"At Cannon Street there was only a yard replied Helen, a painful blush mounting to her face, "but at Kenelham we had a sweet little garden, my poor dear father took the greatest interest in his flowers and so did I" she added with a slight catch in her harmonious voice.

"Dont you now?" asked Lawrence.

"Oh yes" said Helen, "but you see, it is all so different now; in those days my father and I were constant companions and our opinions were one. But now there is nobody—nobody" and tears began to well up in her eyes and fall over her long black lashes.

"Surely somebody cares for you Miss Winston, surely there is someone to sympathise with you" interupted Lawrence.

"Oh Mr. Lincarrol you dont understand" cried Helen with a sob.

"I think I do" replied Lawrence gently, coming a little closer and taking her trembling hand. I think I understand your feelings, it must be very sad to be so—so lonely."

"Wait till your turn comes Mr. Lincarrol and you will know then" replied Helen.

"Would it be different, to have some one to care for you, to love you as your father did?" asked Lawrence.

"Oh it would, it would" cried Helen rapturesly clasping her hands together.

"suppose some one loved you now as much if not more than your father, what would you say?" asked Lawrence.

"I could not belive it" replied Helen promptly unless "unless" she added, "I knew the person very well and was quite posative of the love, and had good proofs of it."

"Have you not proofs enough?" asked Lawrence.

"Of what?" asked Helen.

"Of my love for you" replied Lawrence.

"Your love!?" gasped Helen.

"Yes" repeated Lawrence passionately, "oh Helen I can no longer restrain my feelings, I love you as I never before loved anyone, can I hope, can I dare to hope that you return my love?"

Helen did not answer. She was thinking of another proposal some months past, so very unlike this one, far away on the Kenelham hill tops, and she remembered how she had acted then. Once more, she felt the soft sea breeze fan her face, she saw the hills and the distant sea and she saw oh how plainly Cyrils form by her side, she heard his words and her own replies, she saw his blue eyes looking so intently at her; and then awaking to the present she saw another pair of blue eyes looking at her, speaking so much more fervently than the others and she felt the clasp of a strong hand on her own and then raising her head she looked at Lawrence and softly whispered "yes."

"Oh Helen" cried Lawrence "you make me so happy, so very happy!

Tears of joy dimmed Helen's eyes and Lawrence taking her hand drew her head on to his breast and told her gently of his great love for her and how happy they both would be. And Helen listenned feeling the happiness had already begun.

A gentle breeze began to stir the trees and fan the brows of the lovers as they slowly walked along the paths of love, and the moon looking down from her home in the heavens, smiled on the pair and wished them joy.