Yet my brothers and I had to work for our living, and never grumbled at it."

"Never mind, father," said Winifred. "You do not quite understand."

But Adie, disinclined to discuss the question, had risen.

"I shall go upstairs now," she said. "Good night, Mr. Owen." She went to the chair, and held out her hands. "I am very, very much obliged to you."

"Child," said the schoolmaster, looking up at her, "stoop down, and let me whisper. If you have got no money to-morrow, you and your sister come down here at one o'clock-we will go shares. And, Miss Adie, make your brother do some work, and try to get some for yourself. Don't leave everything to Miss Marion."

Adie nodded her head, laughed, kissed him on the forehead, and left him. It was two years since they came to the house. Rhyl Owen and his daughter were not, as she and Fred confessed to each other, strictly of the upper classes, but they were kind. Adie loved little attentions, and craved for the outside signs of affec tion. Winifred was her only companion, and,

when Fred was not at home, she allowed herself a greater approach to familiarity with Winifred's father than her aristocratic brother would have approved of. At all events, she felt that he would have shuddered if he had seen her actually kiss the forehead of the little Welsh schoolmaster.

"Not even a University man!" he would have said.

"Winifred," said her father, abruptly, "he's a worthless chap."

Winifred changed colour. But she knew whom he meant.

"He's a worthless chap, Winifred, my girl," he went on. "He hangs about billiard tables, and borrows money of gentlemen. Sam Beagle, who is head waiter at the Guards' Club, told me he heard Lord Rodney talking about him, saying that Fred Revel cost him a sovereign every time he met him, and he'd be dashed if he'd stand it any longer.'

Winifred was silent still.

"As for the girls-the young ladies, I mean -it's a good thing for you and me that they came here. It isn't often that we get the chance

VOL. II.

2

of knowing a real lady. As for Miss MarionLord! when I think of that girl, Winifred, and how she toils and slaves, my blood boils-it boils, I say. There, I've broken my pipe! Give me the other one, my dear. As for Miss Marion, I say, she's a good woman. Who can

say more?"

He got up, and stood before the spark that lingered in the fireplace.

.

"What does Solomon say about a good woman?" He took a Bible, and opened it at the Book of Proverbs, and read-"She riseth while it is yet night, and giveth meat to the household. . . Strength and honour are her clothing; and she shall rejoice in time to come. . . . In her tongue is the law of kindness. Many daughters have done virtuously, but she excels them all. Let her own works praise her in the gates.' That is Marion Revel. I have watched her for two years. She is the good woman of Solomon, and she is moreshe is the true Christian, Winifred, because she thinks and works for others, and not for herself."

"And so do you, father, dear."

He stroked his chin.

"In a measure, my child. Yes. It is the task of the teacher, I read in a book the other day, to lose his own interests in those of his pupil. The anxieties of one become the sufferings of the other; he feels with his scholar-"

"Poor little Sugar Candy," said Winifred, thoughtfully, with a gleam in her eye.

Her father caught it, and laughed. He was a silent man out of school, because he talked so much in school hours that quiet was needful. He was a grave man, because he could not indulge in the natural mirth of his nature before the boys; but the old Adam broke out sometimes, as it did now.

"Ho! ho!" he laughed. "Candy Secundus will become a great poet:

'Taffy was a Welshman;

Taffy had a big cane;

When I get a big man

He shall have it back again.'

Ho! ho! ho! If little Candy does turn out a great man, my dear, they will tell of this day, and how his brutal schoolmaster flogged him. Dear me! Schoolmasters are a misrepresented

race! I dare say Orbilius in Francis's 'Horace' -there is the book on the top shelf-was a merry, soft-hearted, and gentle creature, only Horace never understood the right side of his nature. Perhaps Busby used to cry at night when he thought of all the boys wriggling on their seats."

"Winifred," he went on again, after a few meditative puffs of his pipe, "think over what I said, my dear. He is a worthless chap. You went for a walk with him on Sunday afternoon."

Oh, you

"Yes, father, but Adie was with us. don't know!" She took his face in her hands, and squeezed the wrinkled and crow's-footed

"You don't know any

Why, the Revels are

eyes and nose together. thing about it, father. quite above us. Fred is a gentleman, an Oxford man, a scholar, and a Count-think of thatonly he is too proud to take the title. And what am I? Only a telegraph girl, father."

She laughed as she spoke, but the tears came into her eyes. She brushed them away quickly. "And now, father, I shall go round to Mrs. Candy's, and find out if she is angry with you.