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PAUL WARD. 127her yvay, whereas the uncle yvho ruled at Poyningsyvas generally otherwise, and unpleasant.It was very ungrateful of her to feel this;butshe did feel it. Was all this going to be altered ?Was she going to have the sort of feeling thatmight have been hers if she had not been theheiress of Poynings, but the real, own daughterof a kind lady who needed ancl yvould acceptall her girlish love and eager, if unskilful, care?It must be so, Clare thought, now Mrs. Carruthershad her son with her, and she no longerfelt that there yvas injustice done to her, forwhich Clare was made the reason or the pretext,shewould allow her to be all she hadalwaysdesired to be. How much uselessness, unreality,yveariness, fell away from Clare Carruthersas she rode on, the beautiful healthful colourrising higher in her cheeks as the glad thoughts,the vague, sweet, unselfish hopes of the future,expanded in her young heart! She yvould tellMrs. Carruthers some day when she was quiteyvell when there should be no longer any dangerof doino- her harm by the revelation, about themyrstery which had caused her so much suffer-