CHAPTER VII.

COLONEL LEICESTER proposed that they should make some excursion, or go for a few weeks to Edinburgh, or anywhere that would tend to distract Rosamond a little from her present sorrow, but she infinitely preferred remaining at home; there her weekly despatches from Canada were addressed, and she could not bear to think of a day's delay in receiving them; there too she had more quiet leisure for her new occupation of letter-writing, and not a little time did it take up. One morning when she was thus busily employed, the servant came to her door to announce that Miss Grant and Miss Macpherson were in the drawing-room. An expression of impatience escaped Rosamond as she threw down her pen, then hastily taking it up again she wrote, "I am interrupted, here's Susan the bore," and then closing her writing-book, went down stairs.

Miss Macpherson, the daughter of a small laird in the neighbourhood, was going to be married, and had come by invitation to see some of Miss Leicester's dresses, etc., of which she was to have the pattern. Rosamond sent for Flora, and desired

her to take Miss Macpherson, and show her all she wished: "And pray make any use you like of any of my things," she added, as the young lady was leaving the room, who being rather shy, and a little in awe of Miss Leicester, was not sorry to be dismissed to make the inspection by herself.

"Susan, had you not better go and assist ?" said Rosamond, hoping by this means to get back to her letter; "though," she added, laughing, "I suppose

you have a soul above the bonnet and cloak that was sent to me from Paris last month.'

"Oh, I have not time just now," replied Miss Grant, I want to tell you about that man for whom I begged the clothes from Colonel Leicester. I am so annoyed; after all he will not go to church, and I am sure he has no excuse now.'

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Well, I can't make him go," said Rosamond.

"But I thought perhaps as Colonel Leicester had been so kind about the clothes, he would speak to him."

"No, I don't think papa would like to do that, you know he knows nothing about the man. Mr. Ross is the proper person to speak to him."

Oh, Mr. Ross puts off things so, and he always seems so afraid of interfering, as he calls it, with the minister of the parish.'

"But you said this man belonged to the English Church."

"Yes, so he said."

"Well, my dear Susan, my advice to you is, not to trouble yourself about the man any more; you've got clothes for him to go to church, and if he won't go, why you can't make him. You have not told me how Mrs. Grant is."

"Oh, grandmamma is rather suffering with rheumatism just now, she is in bed to-day."

"I am very sorry to hear it; I know she never stays in bed if she can possibly help it. Is she able to be amused? Have you been reading to her? here is the new number of Blackwood, will you take it to her? I know she is interested in the story that is going on in it."

Susan did not seem to care to talk much about her grandmamma, and Rosamond did not care much to listen to the details Susan wished to give her about the school and the clothing club, some sick children and some drunken parents; it was a great relief to her when Miss Macpherson reappeared, and they soon after took their departure. Unfortunately Miss Grant had not the talent of making those subjects interesting to her hearers; with good intentions, her manner was so wearisome, and she dwelt upon evident truths with such tiresome prolixity, to say nothing of a large admixture of herself, her own sayings and opinions, which were not remarkable for either depth or brilliancy, that the thought generally uppermost in the minds

of her hearers was, "I wish she would have done, and go away." A more judicious and less oppressive person might have led Rosamond to take more interest in the duty of attending to the wants of her poorer brethren. A certain amount of work in this way she had been brought up to do, and she did it from principle, but it was not heart-work with her; she did not do it for Christ's sake. She had a class in the Sunday-school, she visited all the people on her father's property, the sick were always assisted with food or medicine, as the case might be, and in all proper cases clothes and other necessaries were given as occasion required; but she did not trouble herself to enter into their feelings; except in some peculiar cases she could not sympathise with them; she met with the usual amount of indifference, ingratitude, falsehood and dirt, and she had not much patience for any of these things. Alfred's gentle voice would often interpose when she had left some cottage in disgust, and he would persuade her not to give up such and such people, "though they were so dirty and disagreeable." Those children in her Sunday class who were intelligent and attentive she liked, and got on well with; but they were a small minority; the majority were either inattentive or stupid, and sometimes both together. "Alfred," she said one day, almost driven to

desperation by the impenetrable stupidity of a sturdy young highlander who stood before her, "Will you take that dolt, and see if you can make him understand that Noah got into the ark; for I can't ?"

The dolt, whose face was very red, and his hands very black, retired with Alfred into the background; and whatever was the plan adopted by the latter, he did get the thick-headed child to comprehend that Noah got into the ark, and a good deal more information on the same subject besides. Delighted with his success, Alfred was fired with the ambition of having a class of his own, and talked to his sister on the subject. Rosamond in her own mind thought he was too young, notwithstanding that his abilities were wonderful for his age, but as she never could bear to say no to him, it was decided to refer the matter to papa, who immediately said that he was too young for anything of the kind.

"Why, my little man, you're not seven years old; I am afraid your pupils would laugh at you.”

“I am very near seven, papa, and there are some very little ones;" and he began repeating the names of some juveniles who were younger than himself.

"All in good time, Alfred," said his father, "but you must not think of it at present.”