unasked. It was the best thing she could have
done in the interests of her lover, for had she
been conscious of what followed, her shrieks
or her moans might have betrayed him. The
other servants fell back on each side as our
rebel dashed amongst them. No one spoke,
but they signed to him to pass up the stairs.
And up the stairs he fled.

"To the tower!" some one whispered.
What tower, and where? Poor rebel dashed
blindly onward, upward, beat the doors right
and left with his feeble hands, burst over Miss
Madge's threshold in the end, and precipitated
himself into the middle of her floor; stood in
her very presence, quivering, suppliant.

The Honourable Madge was at her afternoon
cup of tea. A cup of tea was a thing that had
always comforted her greatly, and was the only
medicine she found soothing during the sorrows
of these times. She was seated on a settee in
the corner of her room, with a table drawn up
before her; a table on which were placed a tray,
an ancient silver tea-pot, some thin bread and
butter in a dish, some sweet winter apples and
a tea-cup with its saucer. And Miss Madge's
feet were on a footstool. Nothing could be
more comfortable and placid than the appearance
which she presented amongst these kindly-
looking arrangements.

The settee on which Miss Madge was
sitting was long and low, and was placed in a
comer with its back to the wall. It was
covered very amply with chintz of a large
pattern, Chinese pagodas on an amber ground,
mandarins seated apparently upon tea-chests,
presenting roses to languishing ladies with
curled-up toes and very arched eyebrows. And
the settee was draped down to the ground with
a garniture of that flouncing well known to be
so dear to the Honourable Madge's heart.

Now if the Honourable Madge were mad, as
had sometimes been whispered, most certain it
is that she kept her madness for the amusement
of her friends. On such an emergency
as this she was found to be exceedingly sane.

"My friend! my friend!" cried Miss Madge,
clapping her mittens, and upsetting her tea-cup
into the lap of her yellow silk dress. But
that was nothing even to Miss Madge, at such
a moment. She whirled up the flounce of her
settee with prompt hands.

"Get under!" she cried, in a frantic whisper.
"Crawl! Get in and lie close. In, in!" And
she pushed him in and packed him away till
there was not a vestige of him to be seen.
"Now, God's mercy be with you, and keep as
still as if you were dead!"

"And it may be that mocking will be catching,"
muttered Madge to herself, as she cleared
up the signs of her own confusion, "for I think
Death would have little to do but close your
eyes!"

Down on her knees she went, drying up the
spilt tea. She arranged her little tray, she
drew her table nearer to her couch. She spread
out her silken skirts, and picked up a novel,
which she placed open in her lap to hide the
tea-stains. She was sipping her tea with her
eyes upon her book, when the door was a second
time thrown open, and a gentleman, an officer
in the King's service, appeared.

I say a gentleman, for this officer had been
bred to some of the habits of a gentleman,
though he had a taste for rebel blood. And he
was a little taken aback when he saw a simple-
looking lady with astonished eyes raised at his
intrusion, with her innocent cup of tea dropping
sideways in amazement from its mincing hold
in her genteelly arranged fingers, and with her
fashionable novel on her knees.

"I beg pardon," he began, "you are
surprised—the fact is—"

"Oh, pray, don't apologise!" said the
Honourable Madge, making violently graceful
efforts to overcome a ladylike surprise and
bashfulness, very creditable to any spinster on such
an occasion. "It is I who should apologise for
my stupidity. You have the advantage of me
truly, though I have no doubt you are quite
familiar to me if my memory were not so bad.
To what do I owe the pleasure of such a
charmingly unceremonious visit? Pray have
a cup of tea, I always do of an afternoon. So
refreshing! A cup of tea with such a book as
this delightful Evelina in one's hand, I call it
a luxury, nothing less. And really, ha, ha! do
you know I get so ridiculously absorbed in a
story, ha, ha! I actually thought when I looked
up that you were the hero, walking into the
room."

And she reached down an ornamental cup
and saucer of precious china, which was sitting
most conveniently on a bracket above her head,
poured some fragrant tea from her little silver
pot, enriched it delightfully with thick cream and
glistening sugar, and presented it with her
sweetest smile to her gallant guest, as she was
pleased to call him.

Now this soldier had heard tell that Miss
Madge was a little "cracked." She was not
a lovely woman, and her sweetness and her
winningness were not much after his taste.
However, her cup of tea was tempting, and
the soldier was fatigued. He drank and he
apologised.

"The fact is, madam," he said, "we have
been searching for a rebel, supposed to have
taken refuge in the castle."

Miss Madge gave a piercing little scream, and
her cup fell with a crash upon the tray.

"Ah, ah!" she shrieked, "they will be the
death of me, those rebels! Oh, sir, be so
good as not to go till you tell me. A rebel in
the castle! Ah, my sad fate, a rebel!
Promise me that you will search, or I shall not
sleep a wink. Not a wink for a month!"

And the Honourable Madge's eyes began to
roll, and her nostrils to quiver, and she began
to flutter up and down in her seat. She had
observed these ominous workings in Lady
Helen on sundry occasions, and a hint was
never lost upon Miss Madge. The officer made
her rapid protestations as to his activity, and
terrified at the prospect of approaching