high-bred hunters as money can procure; | young woman of seven-and-twenty, and a
while some of the hacks and the pairs in very ugly small daughter of seven, were
phaetons and double dogcarts, are models at lunch when Gareth arrived; and a per-
of symmetry and style after their kinds. fect volley of exclamations greeted him
He will be struck by clean-built thorough- from his hostess as he entered the din-
breds that look smaller than they are till ing-room; also an ecstatic clapping of
he comes to see them extending them- hands from the ugly little daughter, and
selves over formidable fences, and laying a blush from the governess. Gareth
the wide-stretching enclosures behind Vane very seldom did enter a room full
them in their stride. He will admire the of women and children without exciting
serviceable animals that carry those sub- these latter manifestations from some
stantial farmers, who manage to see a among them; so he merely repaid them
sufficiency of the sport though they stick by a smile which adult and juvenile ap-
for the most part to gates and lanes; and peared to consider as sufficient, and went
transfusing their intelligence into the forward to take the two very much be-
instinct of the fox, ride knowingly to jewelled hands which Mrs. Jacobson ten-
points rather than in the line of the pack.dered him.
And he will understand the universal "So you have come, after all! Well, I
enthusiasm for the sport when he marks had quite given you up and was just abus-
how the ragtag and bobtail turn out for ing you finely; wasn't I, Miss Saunders?
the fun from the market-towns, the vil I said you were a perfidious wretch, and
lages, and the solitary hamlets, mounted so you were; for you promised to come
upon anything, down to broken-kneed down by the twelve-thirty train in time
ponies and ragged-coated donkeys fed on for lunch and to go with me to the Epsom
furze. But our article, as we have re- sports; and I sent to the station to meet
marked, lies rather in the snow than in you. No, you needn't look miserable
sloppy pastures and holding fallows. So about that; I was expecting some fish as
we shall not follow the hounds as they well, and it did come; but Vicky here.
draw from cover to cover; and as for the was in despair at your breaking your
tale of the run, has it not been often word. How did you arrive after all, and
written by men who were themselves what kept you? The salmon cutlets are
unapproachably in the foremost flight, but all cold, and there is nothing fit to eat on
who are gone beneath the turf they used the table; but I'll have something up in
to gallop over? The shades of the de- a moment. Sit down, do. Are you very
parted warn us to be silent, from Nimrod tired?"
of the Quarterly, mighty among literary
hunters, to the lamented Colonel Whyte
Melville, so lately lost by an accident in
the hunting-field. The hunting-field in
the south, as the curling-pond in the
north, brings many classes together in a
kindly communion of tastes and sympa-
thies; and long may it continue to do so.
The greater and the more unreserved the
genial intercourse of this kind, the less is
it likely that revolutionary legislation will
sow dissensions among those who ought
to be friends will banish all but utilita-
rians from rural England, and subvert the
time-honored landmarks that our fathers
have religiously preserved.

From All The Year Round.
VISITED ON THE CHILDREN.

CHAPTER XII.

IN CHADLEIGH CHURCH.

THE Jacobsons of Birchwood, or rather
Mrs. Jacobson, her governess, a pale

I

"I am not tired at all, and I don't want anything up, and there's nothing I love more in the world than cold salmon cutlets," said Gareth, dropping into a chair beside Vicky. Also, my dear Mrs. Jacobson, I didn't break my word. I came by the coach, and am prepared to escort you to the sports whenever you like to put on your bonnet; so please don't abuse me any more or call me bad names. want you to tell me something instead." "What is it? You look quite excited." "I am excited. I have just met an angel, and I want to know her name.' "Her name an angel?" "Yes. This angel was on a bay mare, the latter a tolerably neat animal with one white stocking. If you can't tell me who she is, I shall go forth and hang myself as soon as ever the sports are over and I have given you into Matt's care."

"How like you! Some woman, of course, and before you have been in the parish five minutes!" laughed Mrs. Jacobson. "Isn't he incorrigible, Miss Saunders ?"

Miss Saunders, looking a little paler

Mrs. Jacobson did not see the innuendo.

than before, smiled faintly in answer. "Dismissed you with some of the flowPerhaps at some period of his intimacy ers by way of thank-offering!" said Mrs. with the Jacobsons (and he had known Jacobson, glancing at Gareth's bouquet; them some time, Matt the husband being then without waiting for him to deny the a stockbroker in the city, and having imputation, if he had been going to do so: assisted at selling out some of his few" A girl riding with a clergyman — brown hundreds on more than one occasion) Gar- horse with one white stocking! Why, eth had turned a not ungentle eye on the you must mean Was she fair, rather slim, interesting-looking governess, and pretty, with blue eyes?" had spoken a soft word or two for her "She was fair certainly; light hair, comfort. Oppressed governesses, when and the bluest eyes I ever saw. As to pretty, always found a champion in this rather pretty,' well, yes. I dare say a reprobate brother of Mrs. Hamilton; and woman would call her so. That's a matthough Miss Saunders was not at all ter of opinion, however." oppressed, she had certainly been pretty once, and he may not have stood strictly on the bond as to her claim to notice. Now, she was hardly pretty at all; and, therefore, though she remembered the soft words he had forgotten them. Even the sweetness of his smile came by nature, not intent, and was diffused equally over governess, child, and luncheon table. He did not hear Mrs. Jacobson's appeal to her as he answered: "A woman? Well, I suppose so. She was in woman's form, anyhow. My dear friend, you must know her; for she lives somewhere in this neighborhood and she knows you. She told me so.'

"Told you so! When?"

"I won't if you tell me something instead. Let me set you right on two points, however," and there was a little touch of earnestness superadded to the languid gaiety of Gareth's tone, which showed he meant what he said. "She was not riding alone, and she did not wander over the hill with me; and I am very sure she was not improper in any way, even by communication with my fastness."

"What did she do then, and how did you come across her?"

"She had dismounted to gather wild flowers, and her horse bolted. I happened to be near, having missed the right turning on my way here, and caught the brute for her. She allowed me to lead it back to the place where her companion (a parson by his rig) had left her, and then dismissed me. Voilà tout!"

"Well, I dare say you wouldn't think her so," she said, "for she is not in your style-not at least if she is the girl I think; and I am pretty sure of it. Fair, blue eyes, and riding with a clergyman. Oh, it must be-mustn't it, Miss Saunders? - Miss

Dysart," said Miss Saunders, speaking for the first time and in the tone of one who thought all this fuss very absurd.

"Yes, exactly. She's a Miss Dysart. There are two of them; but I only know the oldest one, and they live with their mother somewhere between Epsom and Chadleigh End, a house overlooking the park."

"Ah, indeed! Close to where I met her the first time then," cried Gareth.

"Oh, then this is not the first meeting? Take care, Mr. Gareth, or you will have young Ashleigh down on you. I am beginning to be sorry I asked you here."

"That is impolite, so I won't believe it. Who, pray, is young Ashleigh?

"Her lover, the curate of Chadleigh End. They ride about everywhere together; and Mrs. de Boonyen told me he gave her that horse. Oh, I believe he's very well-to-do, a son of the rector of Dilworth and nephew of Sir William Ashleigh. They are county people, you know; and people say that Miss Dysart's mamma strained heaven and earth to make up the match."

"I should hardly think it was neces sary unless the young man was made of stone. The Dysarts are not well-to-do, I suppose?"

I'm

"Oh, no; poor as rats, the De Boonyens say; but proud to an extent. quite complimented at Miss Dysart's claiming my acquaintance, for they hoid themselves so aloof in general that they will hardly know anybody."

"Evidently that rule has exceptions,

for she certainly said she knew you,"
Gareth put in as a conciliatory stroke.
"And now tell me about these sports.
Matt only said I was to be sure to get
down in time for them, and that he would
meet us there in the evening."

Gareth had said and learned as much
as he cared to do for the present on the
subject of Sybil Dysart, and having
changed the conversation he kept it in
entirely different channels for the rest of
the afternoon, only taking pains to make
himself more than usually agreeable to
his hostess.

"The idea! Why, I don't call there myself. I've never even seen the mother, and they tell me she is an iceberg."

"Then we must manage it some other way. When you make difficulties you of course inspire one to overcome them. Where preacheth this clerical lover?"

"In Chadleigh church, of course. Where else?"

"And of course the lily maid' goes to hear him. My friend, it is not much in my way, but we will attend Chadleigh church next Sunday."

"And you pretended not to think Sybil She was just the woman to like direct Dysart pretty! " said Mrs. Jacobson. compliments, and he knew it and dosed What a shameless humbug you are! her with them. A woman young, good- Well, it's a beautiful little church and a looking, of the large-nosed, full-lipped nice drive, so you shall be spoiled for Judaic type, more than half a Jewess, once. Remember, though, if the mother indeed, and less than three-quarters a is there I sha'n't dream of introducing lady, Gareth knew that by a little love-you to your innamorata. I've no fancy making and a good deal of flattery he for being snubbed because a dowdy old could twist her round his finger, and woman happens to be niece to an earl." bided his time accordingly. It was only when they were driving home through the dusk of a May twilight, and had nearly reached Chadleigh End, that he took occasion to ask her in the most careless tone he could assume,

By the way, isn't it somewhere about here that you said my fair equestrian lives?"

To his great delight Mrs. Jacobson not only nodded but pointed to a house not far off.

"Yes, that's the place, behind the laurel hedge on the right. I dare say young Ashleigh is there at present."

Gareth mentally cursed young Ashleigh. He had no particular reason for doing so, seeing that the latter had done him no harm, and that he did not even know him by sight; but he cursed him all the same and with an inward heartiness which gave him courage to say aloud,

"If he's a man of taste, he probably is. But I don't think he is a man of taste, or he wouldn't have left that sweet creature to pick wild flowers by herself this morning. My dear Mrs. Jacobson, here's something to amuse us. Let us

cut him out."

"Us!" said Mrs. Jacobson, laughing. "Gareth Vane, don't talk nonsense."

"I'm not talking nonsense; I mean it. It is too early for grouse; but the game laws don't apply to all sport. I want to know that little beauty better; and as you tell me she is engaged, the luxury will be a safe one on both sides. Won't you help me? Take me to call there."

Mrs. Dysart very seldom did go to church. As she told Lionel's mother on one occasion, her health did not permit her to do so. She might have added with equal truth that young men's sermons (even those of her son-in-law elect) bored far more than they interested her, and that of Lion's ideas in particular she had full and plentiful feasts served out without grudge or parsimony in the seclusion of her own parlor. But with Sybil and Jenny it was quite otherwise; and, as Gareth rightly opined, it must have been a weighty circumstance which would have kept the girls from their weekly attendance at a church, which was not only endeared to them by being their own, but as having for its pastor the future husband of one and the adopted brother of the other. Perhaps there was nothing that Jenny found much more enjoyable in her somewhat uneventful life than Lion's sermons. So often they turned on something the two had already discussed or argued over; and though in that case the argument was often renewed later, and fought out with such irreverent heat by this independent-minded young lady, that Sybil's more submissive spirit was quite scandalized, Lion was always sure at any rate of his young antagonist's full and eager attention, the great bright eyes meeting his at every point with quick appreciation; while sometimes on the other hand Sybil's snowy lids drooped over hers lower than even the meekness of devotion required; and, but for the mortification of admitting such an idea.

he might have almost fancied she was | bad text for an agricultural congregation; asleep.

but somehow in Lion's levelling hands the obligations of the landlords waxed far larger than those of the tenants; while even that "tribute penny" which was to be rendered to Cæsar in return, grew small by degrees and "beautifully less until it had dwindled into such insignificant dimensions that it showed a palpable ungenerosity and meanness in Cæsar to stoop to exact it at all.

On the Sunday following Princess's escapade, the two fair faces were visible as usual in their accustomed pew, wearing more than their usual likeness to one another, because subdued by a common spirit of devotion and recollection, and more than their usual unlikeness to the rest of the gay, not to say over-dressed little congregation of Chadleigh End, by the Puritan simplicity of their plain, close- It was a sermon which would have infitting grey dresses and bonnets, the only furiated Mr. Chawler and the Dilworth finery about them a little black_lace scarf|squirearchy in general, and shocked and knotted round either throat, with a white angered his father; but which was doubtrosebud nestled into it. The lace was of less exceedingly satisfactory to Hodge real Chantilly, and very fine. The rose-sitting at the lower end of the church; or buds were real, too, and freshly gathered; but I doubt whether Mrs. Dysart would have permitted the latter adornment if Sybil had not cunningly secured Lion's admiration for it first, and ordered Jenny to don one also, that the mother's indulgence might find a double claimant.

Jenny obeyed cheerfully. She would have donned a rose or a domino with equal willingness to please her sister, and thought no more about it afterwards. She never gave a remembrance to the flower when once she had passed through the church door. The fragrance of it only blended with the notes of the organ (a better one than is generally found in vil lage churches) to lift her senses into a higher and more ideal sphere; but Sybil was not above a little innocent girlish vanity in such matters, and could not help a gentle feeling of satisfaction every time she felt the cool touch of the petals against her skin. She knew the blossom was no whiter than that soft white chin above it, Lion had told her so, and as she raised her eyes to his during the sermon, she wondered if the thought were still in

his mind.

It was not! I do not mean any dispar, agement to his ardor as a lover; for the young curate was well aware of the presence of his betrothed, and perhaps preached all the better for an occasional glance at her fair, pure face; but she might have worn a bearskin or a yashmak without his being in any way cognizant of it. He would have liked her just as well. To-day he was giving a sermon after his own heart. The text he had taken for it was: "Render therefore to Cæsar the things which are Cæsar's, and to God the things which are God's," and he used it to illustrate the duties of tenants and laborers to their landlords and employers, and those of the latter to them. Not a

rather would have been so supposing that Hodge had understood anything about it. It is perhaps rather a hindrance, however, to the enthusiasm of that rural but somewhat thick-skulled individual's admirers that he generally finds their perorations on his behalf quite as unintelligible as the counter arguments of his tyrants and oppressors, and that, unless provided with an interpreter, the former do not receive as much gratitude from him as the energy of their efforts in his service deserve.

Hodge understood Lion perfectly when he was sent for to the vicarage and rated in good frank language as from man to man for being drunk and lazy. He did the same when the curate sent poor consumptive old Hodge a jug of ale and plate of meat from his own table every Sunday, and apprenticed Widow Hodge's eldest son to a good trade when his father's death left the boy with seven others on the poor woman's hands.

All that sort of thing was plain and simple enough; and Hodge modified the sheepish scowl with which he received the lecture by grinning at the charity, and vowing "parson were a good 'un in the main, an' noan so bad there mightn't be worser; " but when Lion trenched on higher ranges of thought or action, when he met poor lost Lizzie Hodge sitting under a hedge with her fever-stricken child on her knee, and taking the little lad from her, carried him right across Epsom Common, and into the town, through a blinding snowstorm, and with the exhausted outcast mother clinging to his arm; and when on the same day he sharply refused to allow even the smallest charity to ablebodied men and women who hadn't earned it, he became wholly unintelligible to the bucolic mind, and more than slightly repellent. Squire Chawler's curses conjoined with his beef and coals at Christ

mas were far easier to comprehend, as were the indiscriminate sixpences and soup-tickets of the Miss de Boonyens even when accompanied by the donors' shrinking avoidance of the objects of their liberality; and Hodge accepted both of these, and ran after them with a servile greediness which at times lashed his would-be champion and idealizer into almost impatient despair.

To-day, if he roused excitement in any one it was in Jenny. Disagreeing utterly with Lion's social theories, while reverencing and admiring with her whole heart the nobility of character which gave them birth, he kept her in a small tempest of enthusiasm and deprecation which held her attention riveted on his words to the exclusion of all else; and only when the hymn was given out at the end, and she turned towards her sister with the book which they shared in common, did she notice that the latter's cheeks too were glowing with equal fire, and her eyes brilliant, with an expression quite different from the angelic indifference which they usually wore in church.

Jenny was sure that Sybil was feeling with her, and burnt with eagerness to discuss the whole subject as soon as they were free. She rather hurried their exit from church when the service was over in her impatience to get away from the other people and begin the comments which were tingling on her lips, and had just succeeded in beguiling her sister into a different path from the rest, when a very stylishly-dressed lady whom she only knew by sight disengaged herself from the crowd, and crossing the grass held out her hand to Sybil with a greeting quite effusive in its cordiality.

"You see I was right. We have met again. I am so glad." At that moment, however, Mrs. Jacobson had turned to her, and, in listening to and answering her, the girl felt that she might not have caught the words properly. She had not bargained, however, for what followed. The stock-broker's lively young wife was certainly disposed to earn her guest's gratitude by no half measures, and to that end she poured out pretty speeches and civilities on Jenny, asking why she and her sister never came to Birchwood. The latter had called once, and Mrs. Jacobson had quite hoped she would do so again. It wasn't so very far, nothing like the distance to Dilworth, and she knew they visited there. Indeed, she would have I called at Hillbrow herself but that never having met Mrs. Dysart she felt rather shy. She was quite charmed that they had happened to encounter one another that morning.

While all this was being uttered she had moved on, keeping Jenny at her side, while Gareth and Sybil were left to follow. Jenny would have found it impossible to detach herself without positive rudeness; but it was not pleasant to her, for she knew nothing of Mrs. Jacobson save that she had once met her at a juvenile cricketmatch at Chadleigh Park, and that she had heard Lion allude to her as "rather rapid." She disliked "rapid" ladies, "How do you do, Miss Dysart? What however, with all her heart, and Mrs. a long time since we have met ! And Jacobson's over-bright eyes and bloom, what a clever preacher you have! Quite her gorgeous dress, her jewellery, and the delightful to hear anything so original. I lisp with which she spoke, all tended to almost wish we were in this parish, but confirm her belief in the justice of the at any rate my friend Mr. Vane here owns stricture and to inspire Jenny with repugI haven't brought him to church to-day to nance. She answered very coldly, her hear twaddle. By the way, let me intro-soft, high-bred tones sounding as if iced, duce Mr. Vane, Miss Dysart. What! You have met before?"

and walked as slowly as she could, glancing behind her for her sister at intervals in the hope of a rescue; but it is not easy for nineteen when shy and modest to snub nine-and-twenty when neither, and Mrs. Jacobson did not seem to see the intention.

"This is your way, too, I suppose," she said cheerfully. "I told our coachman to wait for us in the village; for my horses are young and not very well broken, and a clash of church bells is apt to make