SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON, SEARLE, & RIVINGTON,

CROWN BUILDINGS, 188, FLEET STREET.

1879.

[All rights reserved.]

251.

THE TWO MISS FLEMINGS.

CHAPTER I.

"The gods may release
That they made fast;

Thy soul shall have ease

In thy limbs at the last.

But what shall they give thee for life, sweet life, that is overpast?"

LET us imagine ourselves cruising indolently in the Mediterranean. The time of year is November, and the season unusually mild. Light mists wreath themselves amongst the rigging of the yacht Firefly, as she saunters at half-steam over the glassy sea. It is a dead calm. A dim, red sun struggles feebly through the A girl, lying back in a roomy

haze. VOL. I.

B

wicker chair on the deck, stares at the round-faced orb with dreaming, absent eyes. The yacht's owner, Max Drayton, walks up and down at a little distance-a tall man, who rolls in his gait after the manner of sea-faring people. His home has been on the sea of late years; his yacht his head-quarters, from whence he has landed at times, and roamed aimlessly over the Continent, only to re-embark, sick of cities, sick of the haunts of men; pining for the vast calm of the ocean's solitude or the strong excitement of its storms. A shadow had fallen on his youth, the cloud of a great misfortune had. darkened his life. At three and twenty he had drifted out of the world. Life amongst his kind had seemed at an end; society had grown to be a dead letter to him. A restless, moody man, clothed with reserve as with a garment, he had stood aside, a passive spectator of the turmoil and rush of existence. The romance and possibilities of youth had ended for himended only to awaken once more at six and thirty, warmed into life again against

reason, against his own will, by the glamour of Cassandra Fleming's eyes.

As he walks silently to and fro, his glance wanders, from time to time, to the girl's graceful figure, lounging in the wicker chair. Pain, pity, an infinite yearning is in his face, so long as he is unobserved; but if by chance their eyes meet, his are gravely withdrawn for the moment. Whatever may be his reason, he does not mean to let this girl fathom the secret of his apparently hopeless passion for her. After about an hour's patient pacing up and down the deck, Cassandra, bringing her eyes down slowly from the heavens, perceives Drayton's fixed on her, with an anxiety which rouses her from her day dreams.

"Of what are you thinking, Max ?" she asked lazily.

He paused and half sighed before he answered.

"I was thinking, Sandra mia, I don't like the Colonel's looks to-day. I was thinking we ought to get up steam, and make for Malta without delay. You see