"Mrs. Ashleigh wants me to go over to the rectory for an hour this afternoon. She will send the pony-carriage for me, and desires her love to both of you. I think I shall go." ward, of course, to help her in, and they shook hands cordially as he said, "So you are going to the rectory. I recognized madam's clothes-basket and pony from the bottom of the hill, and wondered if she were within. I was just coming to call myself." "Were you? Now I am sorry," said Mrs. Dysart gently-"if it was about anything in particular; but I suppose that could hardly be as we saw you only yesterday. However, get in too, and let us drive slowly. I don't like to keep your mother's pony standing; but we can talk as we go along. Was it anything about "Oh dear, no!" Lion cried, with a slight flush on his face, and drawing back a step as if to show he did not want to detain her. "I was only looking in to enquire I'm afraid Miss Dysart got home dreadfully late yesterday. I heard afterwards that she had stayed with old Mrs. Smith all the afternoon. It was awfully good of her. I hope she wasn't very tired." "No, not at all," said Mrs. Dysart quietly. "She often sits all the afternoon with me, you know, when I am ill; and a little usefulness is good for girls. Well, Lion, as you don't want me then "Shall you, mamma?" said Sybil in The young curate, Lionel Ashleigh, had Oh, no," he broke in quickly. "Don't think of delaying for me. You go out so seldom, and I can always have a talk with you at home." we see So I "Yes," the widow said, smiling; each other pretty often, don't we? won't be polite and say 'Come in' to-day. I know your mother doesn't like the pony being kept waiting. Have you any special message for her?" "I? Oh, no," he answered, his face falling perceptibly. "Then then the young ladies are not at home either?" "Well, yes, they are at home in one sense," said Mrs. Dysart pleasantly; "but they told me they should deny themselves to all visitors, as they had set their hearts on a good afternoon's practising; so you needn't feel yourself expected to ask for them. Good-bye." And then she really did drive away; and Lion had nothing for it but to walk down the hill again. I dare say his parish work profited by it; but certainly he did not think Mrs. Dysart in one of her kindest moods. "An afternoon's practising!" As if that were such an important thing that it must prevent the girls from seeing him! And he had not seen Sybil yesterday; or indeed since last Sunday. She must care a great deal for her music if she could not spare half an hour from it. A very big carriage drawn by very big horses had just reached the foot of the hill at the same time as himself; and three ladies with a great show of plumy bonnets and pale silk parasols leaned forward to bow to him. The eldest of the party followed her bow by beckoning to him; so Lionel had to smooth his brow, and go up to shake hands. It was not done very willingly. "How do you do? You are quite a stranger, Mr. Ashleigh," Mrs. de Boonyen said in her most affable manner. "I saw your mother yesterday, and told her so. Quite a stranger. Why, it must be three or four weeks since you have been at Hapsburg." "You forget all I have to do, and with an absent rector too," Lionel answered smiling. "I have very little time for visiting." But he felt rather a humbug when he said it, remembering how cross he had just been at having been debarred from a visit; and the eldest Miss de Boonyen seemed to know what was in his thoughts. "Are you so hard-worked?" she said. "I thought there was not much for a clergyman to do at Chadleigh; and then you get a good deal of help, don't you? Miss Dysart we saw you coming away from there just now — - she does not seem to go out much in society; but I hear she is quite devoted to your parishioners." Lionel felt rather uncomfortable and more than rather angry.. "What the deuce did the girl mean?" he said to himself with unclerical fervor; but Miss de Boonyen's snub nose and pale eyes looked so innocent of any meaning whatever when he looked at her, that he felt inclined to laugh at his own touchiness; and, before he could answer, the second Miss de Boonyen put in hurriedly, "Miss Dysart looks as if she could be devoted to anything good, Mary Jane; she has such a sweet face. Mamma, don't you think Miss Dysart looks very sweet?" Horatia Maude de Boonyen was if any thing shorter and plainer than her elder sister. One of her eyes had a slight cast in it, and chronic indigestion from living on over-rich food had given a puffed, unwholesome pallor to her face.. Also, when she got nervous or excited, she flushed all over a dull red color; and being somewhat taken aback at her own temerity, she was suffused with that tint now; yet Lionel, looking up at her, found the glow not unbecoming, and for the first time thought her a shade removed from absolute repulsiveness. "If she weren't so ugly and I don't think she is quite so hideous as her sister there might be something nice about that girl," he said to himself when he had at last got free, after having been worried into a promise to dine at Hapsburg Hall on the next day but one. Mrs. Dysart in the mean time was being driven to Dilworth, and having arrived at the rectory was shown without delay into a pretty, comfortable, untidy drawingroom, where the rector's wife, tall and portly of person and stately of mien, rose up from an armchair in the bay window, and throwing down a little heap of account-books, took her by both hands and greeted her very cordially. "So good of you to come over to me this way," she said, pulling forward a low chair near her. "Sit down there now, and be comfortable. I have nothing to do today, and it's quite a comfort to see any one who either isn't just having or hasn't just had a new baby. The fuss they are making at the Hall over this first arrival of Victoria's is too absurd. Margaret is crazy about it, of course, being her first grandchild; and even John, who is unassuming enough generally, looks as if he had done something wonderfully virtuous, and deserving of an Albert Memorial at the very least, in becoming a parent; while as for Sir William- my dear, he fairly bores me to death every time I see him. There's a new kind of feeding-bottle with a swivel neck do you know it? - something which will put the milk down the infant's throat even if he's standing on his head with his mouth shut, and But there, Sir William will tell you all about it. He could talk of nothing else yesterday. I hope you take an interest in feeding-bottles, Clara ?" 66 Well, it is so long since I have had to do with things of that sort," said Mrs. Dysart, with a smile in which a keen observer might have detected some latent nervousness. She added, with a little sigh: "One has other troubles with one's children after feeding-bottle days are over, which drive the latter out of one's mind." "Ah, yes, of course. Not that I've ever troubled very much about mine at any time," Mrs. Ashleigh answered, so carelessly that if Mrs. Dysart had intended her remark to lead to any question about present troubles she must have been disappointed. "Victoria and her mother-in law are making a nice peck of worries for themselves over this little atom. However, they seem to enjoy it, and, after all, if a swivel-necked bottle does answer better than My dear, are you sure you are out of the draught there? I am going to ring for some tea." No; but by his showing you see more of him than do most of his church-going parishioners," retorted her friend, pausing in the act of pouring out tea, to look the widow keenly in the eyes for one second. Mrs. Dysart returned the look with calmIt seemed to do her good. ፡፡ Yes," she said quietly; "if he were to see all his friends as often as he does us, I should not think there was much to be done in the parish. Not but what he is always very welcome." Quite," said Mrs. Dysart, rather shortly. She was a small, pale, delicate-ness. featured woman, with a skin which had once been as transparently fair as her daughter's, and light brown hair banded smoothly under her widow's cap; but just now there was an almost blueish tinge in the pallor of her face; and her small, frail-looking hands were clasped together over her crape skirt with a kind of nervous quiver. Don't ring for tea on my account," she added. "I never take it of an afternoon. No; I don't think Lionel has given you much trouble. I hope he never will." "You are more ambitious for him?" said Mrs. Dysart, with an involuntary quiver about the lips. "Well, I suppose that is not to be wondered at." "Ambitious? Not I, or I wouldn't have let him go into the Church at all, where decidedly there isn't much to be done nowadays; and as to what it will be when the rascals get disestablishment But don't tell the rector I said that, or he would have a bonfire made in the home meadow, and offer me up on it as an auto da fé in the cause of Church and State. Ah, well, I dare say both will last his time!" "And Lionel's too, I hope," said the widow. "Oh, I believe he would be rather glad if they did not. He has fads, which was a reason for my not wishing him to come here as curate to his father. Lion is too new-fangled for the rector. But there! you are making me as bad as my niece Victoria or Sir William himself; and, after all, you ought to know more of the boy's ideas than I do, now that you sit under' him." "Don't let him bore you, however," said Mrs. Ashleigh, looking away again to add another lump of sugar to her tea. John bores me dreadfully at times. Why are eldest sons invariably the dullest of the family? I often feel inclined to say, 'Go away, do,' when he comes in here for a duty call, and stays an hour or more prosing." "I believe I said that to Lionel to-day, though not because he bores me," replied the widow. "He was just coming up to call on us as I was starting for here, but I didn't like to keep the pony standing, and I knew the girls wanted a quiet afternoon for their music, so I was inhospitable and sent him away." "At which I dare say he was very cross," said Mrs. Ashleigh, laughing. “I am glad to hear, though, that the girls are so devoted to their music. I'm afraid I usedn't to be as much so in my young days." "I don't think they are in general; but I was speaking to them about it rather seriously this morning. It was a thing their dear father laid great stress on; and if Sybil were to go to Lord Dysart's "But I thought you told me you never meant to let her go there, that they were a very fast set altogether; and his niece, Lady-what's her name? - the one who does the honors - just the sort of woman you and I most dislike." "So I did; but he has written about it twice; and, with my weak health, you must acknowledge, Rose," Mrs. Dysart's tone became suddenly plaintive here, "that I can't help feeling anxious about my children's future when I think that I may be called on to leave them before they are settled in life, and it does not seem wise to throw away friends.” "I don't think you need worry yourself on that score," said Mrs. Ashleigh cheerfully. There seemed something unkind in the persistent cheerfulness of the rector's wife to-day, or Mrs. Dysart thought so. Pretty, ladylike girls will always make friends anywhere; and I hope you will be spared to them for many a long day yet. I see what it is, though, Clare," she added in a jesting tone; beginning to repent of having treated those dear De Boonyens so unmercifully; and indeed I think you have cause me for a little. It is a long while since she has been here; and". with a slight smile -music." 66 you are "Thank you," said Mrs. Dysart quietly. She was standing up now and ready to go. "I dare say Sybil would like it very much if I could manage it; but she has been looking rather pale of late; and when Lord Dysart last wrote "I would keep her closely to her "The corn plaister people!" cried Mrs. Dysart, with that sudden compression of lip and erectness of head which Chadleigh people found so obnoxious in her. "Thank you! I don't think I should seek friends for my girls there! Not but "" ― with a sudden glance at her hostess, and a markedly apologetic change of tone "that I am sure they are very nice, worthy people in their way: very much so, of course.' Mrs. Ashleigh nodded more cheerfully than ever. 66 I call them dear creatures,' she answered. "Corn-plaister people! My dear soul, you haven't imbibed Lion's radical ideas, or you wouldn't say that. There are very few ills in life that plaisters, when made of gold, won't heal; and there really is no humbug about that balm. My maid swears by it; and would like, I believe, to drop a grateful curtsey to young De Boonyen every time he comes here. Do you know he will have nine or ten thousand a year? Why, any girl would be glad to have him. My dear Clara, you are too proud in these matters. I dare say you would find him a charming fellow if you only knew him." "Oh, if you are thinking of sending her to Lord Dysart's, don't let me stand in the way," Mrs. Ashleigh put in quickly. "I dare say it will be much better for her." Mrs. Dysart looked at her rather ear nestly. "I don't," she said, in a very gentle "not if you really want her. voice you, Rose?" Do "I shouldn't ask her if I did not. Didn't I tell you that I wanted a girl about me?" "No; but he must have been rather a frequent visitor, or you wouldn't have had to send him away to-day; and, in "Possibly. I do not know, however, charity to you, I would like to find an that I care to do so at present," said Mrs. attraction to bring him here instead. Ah, Dysart coldly. She added, with the anx-yes, I know I spoil him; but that's a way ious look a little more defined in her eyes, "They are friends of yours, though. I had forgotten that. You see a good deal of them, don't you?" แ Yes; they are very kind in calling here; and upon my word I don't altogether dislike the second girl. She's a modest, humble little thing, and might be good for something if any one would take the trouble to give her a little training." "And are you thinking of doing so, Rose?" Mrs. Dysart asked, with an almost too great appearance of carelessness, as she began to button on her gloves. Her face was paler now than when she first came in. Her friend opened her eyes. Well, not exactly. I don't know for one thing that she would care to let me; though she looks docile enough, poor thing, and I own I do like to have a girl about me. That reminds me that I have been going to ask you to spare Sybil to with mothers, I fear. Then you will let Sybil come to me before long?" She said this after a pause, as if it had nothing to do with the rest of the sentence; and with her hand in her friend's by way of farewell. Something in the latter's small, pale face and feverish eyes, however, touched her; and the next minute she bent her head, exclaiming, as they kissed one another, "Clara, you make difficulties for yourself by over-anxiety. You always did. Haven't I often said that I envied you your two girls when I have none of my own, and that I should like to steal Sybil, and make a daughter of her? And you're not going to pretend that she isn't fond of us." "No; for I am very sure that she is," said Mrs. Dysart gravely. "But if it should be a mistake to encourage it now; if you should have wishes which "It will not be a mistake; and I have no wishes. Let Sybil alone, and don't "You need not be afraid. There is. nothing of the fashionable beauty in my little Sybil. Good-bye, Rose, and — don't laugh at me for being anxious about my children. They are all I have left, remember, and they are so much to me." "And what do you suppose mine is to me, who have only one?" Mrs. Ashleigh put in with sudden heat. "But I fancied we had both seen plainly enough how things were going, and had come to the conclusion not to interfere; more especially as it would most likely be no good if we did." "If you are content, I am, most certainly," said Mrs. Dysart quickly; and then she pressed her friend's hand, and went away with something very like tears in her cold grey eyes, and a softened look about the mouth. Mrs. Ashleigh stood looking after her. He IT is certainly strange that in the "Life of Lord Macaulay" we are nowhere told how he received Mr. Carlyle's article on Boswell. He must, of course, have seen that to no small extent it was meant as an answer to his famous essay in the Edinburgh Review. He must, we should feel sure, have written about it, and written strongly, too, in his letters to his sisters and friends. In the life of Johnson that he wrote many years later for the "Encyclopædia Britannica" we can trace, unless we are greatly mistaken, certain effects of this literary strife. no more answers Mr. Carlyle directly by name than Falstaff answered the chief justice; but he might, when he had finished his biography, equally well with Falstaff, have exclaimed, "This is the "What an odd woman Clare is!" she right fencing grace; tap for tap, and so thought to herself. "But she was always part fair." Mr. Carlyle, in writing of the same as a girl. When she had set Johnson's wife, had said: " Johnson's her heart on anything, no matter how marriage with the good widow Porter has straightforward or trifling, she never been treated with ridicule by many morminded how much planning and contriv-tals, who apparently had no understanding she devoted to getting at it indirectly, ing thereof. In the kind widow's love instead of going up and asking for it like and pity for him, in Johnson's love and other girls. As if I were blind! But I gratitude, there is actually no matter for suppose she has heard the rumor that ridicule." "No matter for ridicule !" we those people are setting their caps at can imagine Macaulay crying out. "I Lion, and got nervous lest I should ap- will make the marriage more ridiculous prove of it. Poor dear soul! I wonder than ever." He certainly set to work in if she got things out of her husband in good earnest to make both Johnson and the same way. I'm glad Sybil takes after his wife seem as absurd as possible. He him. I don't think Lion would like a too was not afraid of Mr. Carlyle's charge of clever wife. He is downright enough, want of understanding. Others had chasdear old boy! Well, I suppose Clare's tised with whips, but he would chastise mind is easier now." with scorpions. Here, then, we have two of the greatest writers of this century altogether at variance about the marriage of one of the greatest writers of last century. Johnson himself certainly saw nothing ridiculous in his marriage. Mr. Carlyle also sees nothing ridiculous. Macaulay, perhaps with more than the usual confidence of a bachelor, finds in it nothing but food for laughter and amazement. Perhaps modesty ought to lead us to say, And, indeed, when Mrs. Dysart got home, she told the girls she had had a very pleasant drive and chat with her old friend, and felt all the better for it. "And no one called the whole afternoon; so we weren't required to say 'not at home' once, mamma," said Jenny. "You were right in your joke about it, but it was rather disappointing to Sybil." "Poor Sybil! Was it? Let us hope some one will console her by calling tomorrow, since she is so fond of visitors,' Non nostrum inter vos tantas componere lites. said Mrs. Dysart, stroking back Sybil's hair with a slow, loving touch. She made | Nevertheless, the question is not an unin |