- "My Dear Cousin, — It is so long since any letters have passed between us, that I ought not to be surprised if you did not recognize the handwriting of this one. Not that I judge by my own feelings in this respect, for I don't think I should fail to know yours wherever I might come across it; but we have both passed through many scenes since we met at Venice, and although my memory naturally clings to those pleasant hours, I could scarcely complain if you had forgotten them, especially as you were so much younger then — quite a girl, in fact! I suppose you must be a good deal altered — young people do change fast, don't they? — but at any rate it can be only in one direction. I wish I knew when there would be a chance of my being able to renew our acquaintance; but I have been in some trouble lately, and want to put myself right first with the world, especially with those whose good opinion I value most. It is a slanderous world, and I hope my cousin will not listen to the evil tales she may hear of one whose fault it has been to make enemies of those who can't bear that a younger man should understand his profession better than they do, and who values her good opinion before everything else. I hope you will meet our mutual friend Colonel Falkland before long. He at any rate is the soul of honour; and, standing well with him, who knows the facts of the case, I can afford to despise the slanders of those who repeat the scandals at second hand of things they know nothing about.
- "This is an egotistical letter, but if I began writing about Olivia herself, I should never know when to stop asking questions. She will, I hope, anticipate my anxiety on this head, by giving me full particulars about herself, whenever she can find time to devote a few minutes to her old friend and relative.
- "Pray give my remembrances to your father, if he cares to receive them, and believe me, my dear Olivia, always your affectionate cousin,
"Rupert Kirke."
Then came the recognition at the ball, when Kirke wanted to make his way towards Olivia, and her father stopped him. To Olivia, witnessing the scene, there came up a reproach from her conscience that she was failing in her duty to her cousin; a sense of wrong done in thus abandoning him replaced for the moment the feeling, till then uppermost, that he was an unhappy man who was to be pitied I for his fall through some unspeakable crime, and she thought with a penitent heart that she had been cowardly in not asking Colonel Falkland's aid on her cousin's behalf. The latter had spoken of Falkland as the one friend who still stood by him, and believed in his innocence. To him she would appeal to set her unfortunate cousin right.
These reflections, and no response to the emotion which had stirred poor Yorke's heart to its depths, as the foolish young fellow had fondly imagined, occupied Olivia's thoughts before she fell asleep on the night of the ball; and the opportunity for carrying out her purpose soon arrived. She meant to speak to Falkland during the day, after her father had gone to his court; but the subject came up at breakfast, being opened by Falkland himself, who said, addressing the commissioner, just as Justine was quitting the room after despatching her share of the meal, "I forgot to mention that I had a letter from your cousin, Rupert Kirke, yesterday. He is coming to Mustaphabad immediately."
"He has arrived," replied Mr. Cunningham, coldly; "I thought you must have seen him at the ball last night."
Falkland looked surprised and as if waiting further explanation, while Olivia with changed colour sat expectant. Her father, after a slight pause, went on, "He left the room at my instance, I believe. I said to him that as I had declined to have any further intimacy or communication with him, it would be better that he should not renew his acquaintance with Olivia; and I must say so much for him that he had the good taste to act on my advice. But what brought him here I don't understand, knowing my sentiments.
"He comes to Mustaphabad to see the great man, while his camp is here, with a view to getting his case reopened."
"Did you advise the attempt, knowing the facts of his case?"
"I cannot say that I actually advised him to do so; he had let the proper time go by for the only appeal he ought to have insisted on. My own opinion would have been for letting time have its effect, now that it is too late to demand a court-martial; but I did not say anything to dissuade him from making this personal appeal at once."
"Oh, Colonel Falkland," broke in Olivia, eagerly, "do say that you do not think so hardly of my cousin as papa does. He values your good opinion above every-
