268

THE PANELLED HOUSE.

to the east, and grown chilly as well as damp by
this time ; and the warm blaze which he poked up
was welcome.

| And then poor Aunt Hermy plunged at once
| into her troubles. ‘‘ Hugh, I have been very much
_ astonished to-day. Had you—had you any idea of
an attachment between Winny and Escott ?”

| “An attachment? Do you mean a secret
engagement?” said the Colonel hastily, and a
little peremptorily.

“No. At ieast, if it amounted to an engage-
ment, it was an understood one. As far as I can
make out it began as one of those boy and girl
likings that take shape unconsciously. Winny was
perfectly open about it when I asked her. O
Hugh! I have always fancied to myself that I
acted the part of a mother to those two girls ; and
now Nest’s happiness is wrecked for life perhaps,
and Winny—”

“Yes,” said Colonel Armyn, shaking his head
sorrowfully, “I can’t wonder that you don’t think
my poor boy good enough for her. If it were only
for my own sake that I speak, I could not be too

any one brought up by you.”

humility.

“ But I see perfectly that this will not do. And |

|
| although he is my son, and I have endeavoured to
do my best with him, as far as I know it, I know
| too well what he is to sacrifice any girl whose
happiness I value tohim. Poor Cordelia’s daughter
least of all.”

Colonel Armyn spoke dejectedly enough; so
| much so that Aunt Hermy hardly had the heart to
go on with what she had to tell him.
| “TI can’t bear to mention what I have to say to
you about him, Hugh, and yet I must. It is not
| only because he is perverse and wilful, and harsh-
| tempered, that I dare not trust Winny to him.
Do you know of any propensities he has shown ?”

Poor Aunt Hermy, in her desire of putting it in
the mildest form, had raised the wildest fears in
| her auditor. Colonel Armyn turned quite white,
and said, “What propensities, Hermione?” in a
tone as if he had just received a shot.

“Propensities to drinking. They say he is at
Mr. Algernon Smith’s night after night, and comes
| home the worse for drink.
| said that she thought no one else did.
it is the common talk about the place.”

“TI did not know it,” said Colonel Armyn, in a
tone more like his own. “ You will give me credit
for not knowing it, Hermione, or I would never
have had your poor little girl in his way. But
how did she come to know it?”

“T can’t tell. Poor child, it was evidently such

But I fear

glad that Escott should have fixed his choice on |

‘““Winny owes all the good in her to any one |
rather than to me,” said Aunt Hermy in her |

Winny knew it, but |

a sore point altogether that I could not harrow
her. But I fear it is true, for nothing but the
evidence of her eyes would make her believe any
thing against him.”

“Ts it so far gone with her as that, poor child?”
said Colonel Armyn compassionately. “Then,
however we settle it, I fear there can be nothing
but trouble in store for her. I do not pity Escott;
whatever he will have to undergo is his own fault,
but I do pity that poor, bright, merry little girl,
How can we soften it to her?”

“What do you think of doing ?”

“Merely telling him that it is out of the question
that Winifred and he should think of one another,”
said Colonel Armyn; “and eventually sending
him out of the way, as soon as I can find any
where to send him. I can’t do so on a moment’s
notice ; you would not insist upon my doing that,
Hermione ?”

“No, no, Hugh. Besides, Winny is a good
child, and will not do any thing underhand. Wait
by all means, until you find some one that you can
trust him to. Poor fellow!”

“It is a sad business,” said Colonel Armyn,
“T wish we had never come here to disturb your
peace, Hermione. You were happy enough before
we came.” .

“One cannot foresee these things,” said Miss
Rivers sadly.

“No; and now I must investigate this charge
that you bring against him. Can you tell me who
else has spoken of it besides Winifred ?”

Aunt Hermy told all she knew as well as she
could, and then took her departure. She caw
Winny’s eyes, that evening, resting upon her im-

| ploringly, in a way that made her feel absolutely
| guilty of conspiracy; but she would not say any

thing to her before she had heard from Colonel
Armyn, who she trusted, although it was some-
thing like hoping against hope, might throw some
new light upon the question. What new light
there could be to throw, seemed doubtful; but
poor Aunt Hermy, in her unhappiness on her little
niece’s account, was like a drowning man catching
at a straw.

Meanwhile, poor, perverse Escott, who with all
his weakness, self-indulgence, and ill-temper, was
not altogether the fiend that Aunt Hermy’s imagina-
tion painted him, and had spent these last few days
in alternating paroxysms of jealousy, wrath, and
remorse, had been summoned to account by his
father. Evscott hated the very sight of his father’s
study, although it fell to his lot to work there
every morning, and familiarity might have lessened
his aversion to it. But to him the bare soldierly
simplicity of the room implied the ascetic spirit
which, in his father, half irritated, half rebuked
him. His was that eager, almost childish clutch