Mr. Lindsay and Ellen were the only ones who submitted with a good grace. He, to set a good example, and to show his reverence for Grunter's work, racked his brain to remember, often, alas! in vain; for the brain at sixty-five is neither wax to receive, nor marble to retain.

Ellen, to oblige her uncle, and as part of the mental discipline to which she had resolved to subject her mind and heart, gave all her attention, and answered in a manner which drew forth the most elaborate praise from Grunter, both of his pupil and himself. Julian and Augusta often replied at random; Annie cried when questioned; and Mrs. Lindsay, remarking that you couldn't put an old head on young shoulders, proved at the same time that one cannot put a young head on old ones; for, with all her anxiety to conciliate and to set a good example to the young folk, she could not take in one new idea, follow out one argument, or acquire one new fact. She, therefore, wisely pretended to be rather hard of hearing; while Mr. Smiler, the curate, who

at first had attended these readings, in the hope of making a friend of the pompous and successful author, and of persuading him to use his interest with some London publishers, to induce them to purchase a set of sermons he had written, and would have sold for any sum of ready money, however small, was obliged to withdraw when the "Question" was introduced; for, as he never could abstract his mind from his six children and his one hundred a-year, and the present difficulties and future horrors of his situation, so nothing remained on his mind, after the reading, but the conviction that, if such a work as that had succeeded, and made Grunter a name and a fortune, his own sermons would perhaps, in the end, raise him to a bishopric, and, in the mean time, procure him a capital living.

Julian had heard from De Villeneuve several times; but as in all his communications he spoke of Zelie as his sister, so they were strictly private, and all Annie could glean was, that he was well, and at Hastings.

There he had been obliged to accompany

Zelie, whose exertions in London had brought on an inflammation of the chest. Of course, this circumstance was unknown to all but Julian. Ellen began to wish for the society of her enlightened and eloquent friend, and to figure to herself his lonely anguish, roaming by the wild sea-shore, with no companion but disappointed Love; and Annie, romantically convinced that some mystery prevented his owning himself her lover, feared he might fling himself from a rock in his despair, and wept and moaned in private, and sat sullen and dispirited in company.

The time was now come for the return of Mrs. Lindsay and her daughters to Moss Grove Rectory. In a week or two Mr. Lindsay was to visit them there—there, too, it was tacitly understood Julian was to make his proposals in form. Mrs. Lindsay, very anxious to conciliate all, before quitting the field, insisted on her dear Miss Tibby, her charming Annie, and her distinguished friend Mr. Grunter, accompanying her beloved bro

ther-in-law.

"The change will do you all so much good. I cannot promise you such accommodations as at the Hall. But there is plenty of room. Mr. Grunter shall have a study with a southern aspect; and it will be quite a treat to Gregory to meet with so great a scholar. Now do come, if it is only for a week, my dear sir. The hills and the heath will remind my dearest Miss Tibby of the land o' cakes and brither Scots,' and sweet Annie will roam about the wild country till she is as blooming as ever."

As Miss Tibby had no wish to be left "alane wi' the auld stiff-necked fule Grunter," nor Grunter to be a lion only for Miss Tibby, the invitation was graciously accepted. As for Annie, she was passive-to the disappointed heart all places are alike. Mrs. Lindsay was even more than commonly affectionate and endearing before leaving her rich brother-in-law alone with his dependents. She nursed Fatima and her fat daughters; she called Screech a darling and a love; the vicious Cashmere buck a noble-spirited beauty;

and actually traced out a distant but certain relationship between herself and Mr. Grunter, who, on the mother's side, was a Gubbs.

Augusta departed gaily, taking a coquettish delight in the anxious sorrow this brief separation caused Julian. She delighted to teaze him with accounts of the splendid château Sir Peter Riskwell had bought near Moss Grove, on purpose, as he had said, to breathe the same air with her; she affected to long to see him again, to bewail her cruelty, and to pity his fate; and then she playfully reminded Julian, that “out of sight was out of mind," and, turning away to wipe a few natural tears, bade him come soon, for "perhaps she might miss him."

Possibly this farewell had more effect on Julian than sobs, and vows, and paroxysms of anguish would have had. When they were gone, he sought his father, and, while tears filled his eyes, and his pale cheeks betrayed his sufferings, he told him that he had manfully kept his word, and had not formally proposed, but that, now the time of trial was