"GAY v. GAY.

"26 New Buildings, Queen-street.

"MADAM,-We beg to inform you that we have been instructed by our client, Miss Eugenie Gay, of Boulogne, to commence proceedings against you in ejectment for the lands and tenements of Gay Court. We shall feel obliged if you will refer us to your solicitor, who will accept service of the writ in this matter, at your earliest convenience. "We remain, Madam,

"GRIFFITHS, BAKER, & Co."

CHAPTER XIII.

CHANGE.

FOR long after might Diana look back to that dreadful night with a sort of horror; all seemed to have ended then. The lights were rudely extinguished; everything was cold and dismal. The palace had changed to a gaol: instead of colours and hangings and rich decorations, the soft path, the sweet scents, the effulgence of light-all had gone there were rough, rude, cruel stone flags and bars. It was over indeed. The sweet little play of life, which she found so delicious, was finished the curtain was down; the stage, the theatre gone.

She could hardly understand or realise it, and sat in her chair before the fire looking at the fatal document. Not much comfort was got from Lady Margaret.

"It may turn out nothing, my dear child; or they may have to be bought off. But, you know, I must tell you, poor Gay always said there was something of this sort hanging over him; and there was a story of that wild fellow your uncle getting picked up by some creature in France. God knows. We must only hope for the best, my poor child. You see, if you had listened to me about Patmore, it might have been all done and settled long ago. Now, of course, he'll take fright."

"That," said Diana, "I do not care about. Of course he must know everything. O, to think of this coming on me! And will they leave me nothing? If they are entitled to it, of course they must have it. Poor dear papa would not have kept it from them, if he had known it."

"O, folly, dear; you must send and get the best advice, and the best counsel."

"Yes," said Diana eagerly, "to Robert-he will do everything for me. And yet, O—”

"Of course he must; but in the regular way. We'll send to him the first thing in the morning. Now don't let it weigh on your spirits. All will come right, I am sure. By the way, though, that woman," said

Lady Margaret with a sudden start—“ she couldn't have something to do with this ?"

"O dear, no,” said Diana absently; "though she did not like me. O, this is very, very cruel! What is to become of me ?"

The reader will perhaps have noted that there was already a sort of faint change in Lady Margaret. She was a perfect woman of business —a woman of the world—and at her age felt that every hour was in value equal to three or four at another period of life. Hence, here was nearly a whole season wasted. Here, too, was a loss of prestige, of credit, in being the patroness of, and voucher for, this poor little craft, which had turned out so unfortunately. She had an affection for Diana; but was put out by this "crossness" of things. She slept well that night. Poor Diana tossed and tossed; fancied she was already degraded, sentenced, deposed, and turned out, a pauper on the world.

Early she sent off a note to Robert-in faltering characters, and in a style that seemed to falter-begging of him to come to her at once, as she had something most serious to ask him about; and she knew that he would help her.

When this was gone, she sat earnestly waiting with a load at her young heart. Robert would fly to her, would help and stand by her, and forgive her treatment of him; she knew that. Here he was—no, it was Richard Lugard, excited still, and come at that early hour selfishly, to dwell upon his wrongs, and talk over vengeance upon the head of the man he hated.

"Such a night," he said, " as I have had; such a miserable, frightful night! But I shall know the worst soon. Why, what's the matter, Diana? You look ill too."

Diana told him. "I cannot help you now as I hoped, Richard," she said.

His eyes sparkled.

"But don't you understand," he said; "don't you see all this, who's work this is? Why, it's a conspiracy! I know it-he and his mother. Don't you recollect how she threatened you that day? She said she would make you repent it. And, Diana," he added, with flashing eyes, "he is in it too! I know it; because, do you remember when he was searching all those nights among the papers, and I warned you? There's the whole of it. That woman would do anything; I know her well."

Diana listened, wondering; and could only faintly say: "0, impossible! They could not be so base-so wicked."

"Ask Lady Margaret what she thinks. The only thing now is to beat them-to baffle them. You must get some clever fellow that's up to all this dirty work to meet them on their own ground."

"O," said Diana distractedly, "I know no such people. I give up at once. I don't know what to do, or whom to trust. I have no friend, it seems to me."

"Yes, you have," said Richard; "and a real one, too. Ah, if you had only listened to me! But that's all over now. I know such a man-the very one for such cases so clever and knowing; he has managed such things before. If I had only taken his advice in this business of mine, I should have been in a different way. But he will dispose of him, never fear."

They heard a step on the stair. Robert Bligh entered hastily. He coloured when he saw Richard; but went up to him frankly.

"I wish it had been anyone else but you, Lugard," he said. "That is all I will venture to say, as I know you do not like compliments of condolence."

"O, you may stop there. I want nothing approaching it from you. We are at arms'-length, recollect; and I don't look on the account between us as in any way closed. Understand that, to begin with, Mr. Robert Bligh, M.P."

"It is only what I expected," said the other calmly; "and you are the same as you always were. With all my heart, then."

He turned to Diana with an inquiring look.

to say, "What is it you wrote to see me about?"

He was too delicate

"And there are others understand you, too," went on Lugard in growing excitement. "You are being found out gradually. That long and slow game won't pay with everyone, I can tell you. She knows your unworthy scheme-your conspiracy-"

"Hush, Richard," she faltered; "we know nothing."

"Diana-Miss Gay," said Robert, turning to her; "what is this ?" "Let me speak for her," said Lugard. "This pretence won't answer. It is all new to you. You know nothing-no, of course, nothing of this action ?" And he tossed over the attorney's letter to him.

Robert calmly read it; then bit his lip. His face contracted with an expression of pain.

"Now look at him. Let him dare say he knows nothing." Diana did look.

"I do know nothing," he said; "and this news has shocked me more than I can say; but-"

"And have you no suspicion, then?" Lugard went on. "You would not wish to name absent persons. No, sir; your services and advice are not wanted here. She wants no double-dealing, no double-handed treacherous assistance."

Bligh turned on him. "This is not the place for this sort of language; I shall give you other opportunities, if you desire them. I do not volunteer assistance here, though I would be glad to aid. Miss Diana Gay knows me long enough to suppose that I would help her with every power of my heart, soul, and strength. I may ask her that." Diana paused; then raised her eyes.

"Indeed you have always been good to me. But still, in this cruel

blow that has come upon me, it is so strange that Mrs. Bligh shon'd have threatened me, and-"

Bligh's face fell; he did not answer, but covered his face, and gave a half-groan.

"By Heaven," said Lugard, starting up and striking the table, "I am right! Answer; you owe it to her, you owe it to that justice and honour which is always in your mouth, to say distinctly, here and before us, what is at the bottom of this. Do you know, do you suspect even, that Mrs. Bligh has anything to do with it?"

Still Robert did not answer.

"O, Robert Bligh, don't let me think that!"

At length Bligh spoke, and very slowly. He was very pale. "I have not seen her for many weeks."

"Ah, there's a fencing witness for you!" said Lugard.

"I know nothing of her proceedings. What I know or suspect is nothing to you," Robert said, turning fiercely to Lugard.

"A bullying witness too."

"But this much I will say," added Bligh, turning to Diana: "I dare not help you now, after such suspicion, or such a charge. But still, let me implore you, be on your guard. Mind me in this, at least. Take care whom you trust, and do not be led by those who affect to be in your interest. I shall do what I can, though at a distance, to befriend you that you may count on."

He was gone. To Diana Lugard said with exultation, "After all, there is compensation. His victory is not so great. I shall match him in this yet, though he may be M.P. O Diana, I feel no disappointment, and have something to look forward to now."

Lady Margaret came. She wisely and authoritatively indorsed all that Lugard said. There could be no doubt the Blighs were at the bottom of the whole. She had always a sort of regard for the "dashing" character of Richard Lugard. He described his agent-the man he recommended for the situation-Page; he inspired Diana with hope. It would "blow over" under the skilful hands of Page, who would find perhaps there was nothing in it at all. They were two women. Once Diana faintly pleaded for her old friend; but Bligh's refusal to contradict the charge was conclusive.

CHAPTER XIV.

A SORE TRIAL.

It was a rueful business for poor Diana, going through the regular routine the heavy coach swinging along, the drive, the visit, the thousand and one antics and fadaises of fashion; with this sword swinging over her head as they rolled along. The worst was, that omniscient evening paper, the lively Regent-street Chronicle, which always had some

fresh tit-bit of social news, and a number of which was like a fiveminutes' chat with a clever clubman, had a short paragraph on the matter in the agreeable page devoted to faits divers:

"The class of persons that seem to be known to penny-a-liners only as gentlemen of the long robe,' are to have good work cut out for them, in a substantial cause célèbre which will affect the whole estates of a beautiful young heiress whose name must be very familiar to the Court-newsman. In the common language of ordinary Englishmen, a suit in ejectment has been commenced to recover possession of the estates of Gay Court, the plaintiff claiming as child of an elder brother of the late owner. There is said to be a French marriage,— secret, of course,--an heir hidden away by an unnatural grandmother, and details of the most thrilling sort. When we add that Serjeant Hawker has been retained to lead for the plaintiff and state her case (she is a young girl, and called Eugenie), we have said enough to whet, and at the same time to stay, the stomach of the most voracious admirer of what is called the romance of real life. The famous correspondent of a certain daily paper even now must be sharpening his pen. We hope in a few days to be able to present our readers with an outline of this case from a special and exclusive source."

Mr. Page, the solicitor, was a young man of not more than thirty, who dressed exceedingly well, and was not by any means of the mouldy, ascetic class to which law-agents are supposed to belong. He had a bright face, got his clothes from the best tailors, and went to balls and parties. This brought him in contact with "officers and gentlemen" who asked him to dine at mess, and went to him when they got into any scrape. What riveted this connection, and quite brought him into leading military business, was a little affair down at Richmond on one of the Derby-days, when a party of gentlemen belonging to a Guards regiment, and crowded on a drag, were coming home filled with wine and spirits (of an animal sort), and passing through that pretty townlet, discharged a whole volley of oranges at an honest householder standing at his door and looking at the procession going by. Much damage was done to him, and one of the horses growing restive at the turn, the police had time to come up, and arrest two of the gentlemen identified by the burgess. Being released on bail, they appeared next morning, accompanied by Mr. Page, who had been with them, and actually dined with them that night; and he took so many points, and managed the whole so cleverly, that the two officers were discharged in triumph, and the burgess went home rather damaged in character with his neighbours. On this success, it seemed that nothing legal could be done in the army without Page's aid. That gentleman was always being invited to dine, which he delighted in; was introduced to generals, colonels, &c., and saw before him a prospect indeed of getting into high life at last. He was found very useful in arranging with creditors, advancing himself also, and was never a