Mavis will be just delighted with the books; she misses them sorely, though it's little time she has for reading.'

'What has she to do, then?'

A many things, and pretty well all day long. Wynn isn't one to like books about; he thinks reading is idle work for women; and as for the piano, I'm sure we're very thankful for your thinking of such a thing-there's few young gentlemen like you that would-but there would be no good in even mentioning it.'

'Why?' asked Jack, with an angry sparkle in his eyes. "I should have thought, from what you said yesterday, she would like it.'

So she would, but it isn't her liking that's the question. Wynn would never let her waste her time like that; it's quite a wonder that he gave in about the singing in church.'

'What's the good of learning to play the piano, and then giving it up? Miss Wynn will forget it all if she doesn't practise-at least I've heard that sort of thing said to girls,' remonstrated Jack, with a burning consciousness that he was making a fool of himself; and I suppose it's the same for all of them.'

'I suppose so; but Wynn thinks it does not matter about her losing the music. She only learned because her uncle was a teacher; she is naught but a farmer's daughter, you know, Mr. Jack, and Wynn don't want her to be above her station.'

'But she is above her station, and Wynn can't prevent it,' said Jack, rashly; 'she's just as ladylike as she's pretty, and clever, and—and that. It is a shame to try and keep her back. I'm sure you don't wish to do it.'

'No, I don't indeed, but I can't go against Wynn, and he wouldn't hear of her going up to the House to play on the piano, I'm sure. Thank you very much all the same, sir, but I think none of us had better say anything about it.'

This was said so seriously, and with such an air of taking Jack into the speaker's confidence, that he was immediately convinced; and from that moment the image of Mavis, already sufficiently attractive to the young man, was invested with the additional charm lent by suspicion and dawning dislike of her father. The 'bit of a brute' theory of Farmer Wynn's character was gaining confirmation in Jack's mind.

6

'Very well, then, I won't,' he said reluctantly; but I am very sorry you think Miss Wynn cannot have this little pleasure. She isn't in, I suppose?' Jack put this question with so ridiculously unsuccessful an assumption of its having occurred to him to ask it quite accidentally, that it must have amused any one with a

sense of humour. Mrs. Wynn had none, and she answered in entire good faith: 'No, she isn't in. There's a choir practice on Wednesdays at the parsonage, and Mavis is there.'

Jack took his leave after this with remarkable celerity, and wended his way towards the parsonage. He had no distinct notion of what he was about, for he could hardly hope to be admitted to the choir practice. Fortune favoured him; he met Mavis just as she was about to ascend the zigzag steps leading to the path across the fields, and there was no third person within sight to witness their meeting. He had walked very quickly-it was a good distance round by the road-and he greeted Mavis eagerly, congratulating himself on his good luck in not having missed her. Mavis was surprised, pleased, a little fluttered, and as Jack stepped up the bank before her, and offered her his hand to accomplish the easy ascent, while he reminded her that it was just there, but on the opposite side, he had seen her first, the swift tinge of colour that occasionally lent a peculiar charm to her face passed over it. Jack Bassett said afterwards and always believed that at this precise moment he fell in love with Mavis Wynn; but he might have antedated the mischief.

They turned into the field path, and, without troubling themselves with any consideration as to whether it was the correct thing or not, they enjoyed a heavenly walk so far as the river bank. They talked, of course, and probably in a silly, disjointed, and unmeaning manner, but that was of no consequence at all. Trotty Veck, with a supercanine perception of the position, frisked about and supplied the two with a topic of interest, plainly saying to them: My dear, innocent, awkward young people, I brought you together, so to speak, and now you can make friends and get over the preliminary stages by admiring my sagacious eyes, my discriminating nose, and my commentative tail.'

They made some of those wonderful discoveries, which, although not in themselves absolute novelties to the human race, are especial miracles to each successive couple who find them out; that spring is a lovely season, that a walk in the fields is a delightful experience, that birds sing sweetly, and that the country is better to live in than the town. The girl and the young man found something more than this to say, no doubt, but these were their first confidences, and perhaps many of us could look back to a certain occasion, which, although it brought no impressions of greater moment to our wise and clever selves than such futilities, will remain, while memory holds her seat,' a recollection to be summoned up at will.

Jack did not fail to remind Mavis that she had promised Miss

6

Nestle a second visit, and adding that there were lots of things in the old house which he would like to show to her himself, as she knew so much about art—a pure but permissible assumption on Mr. Jack's part-he ventured to insinuate that it would be well to wait until after his own return from Trescoe Park.

"They're sure to want me to stay the full week; there's always so much going on,' said Jack. 'I have never yet gone to the Park that I have not remained twice as long as I intended, but this time I shan't; I'm sure to be back on Saturday. Could you say Saturday for a look at the pictures?'

Mavis wore a broad-leaved straw hat which concealed her face rather provokingly, and besides she happened to be attending to Trotty Veck, so that Jack could not see whether she looked sorry, but he thought her voice sounded sorry as she replied that she could not, because there was always a great deal to do at home on Saturdays. The words jarred on Jack's ear, as Mrs. Wynn's reference to the household tasks of Mavis had jarred. He had only the vaguest notions of what those household tasks might be, but a combination of the occupations of the printgowned, white-capped handmaidens whom Miss Nestle kept so rigidly in their place, and the hard-faced red-armed Welsh girls whom he had seen about the farm, presented itself to his imagination, and filled him with wrath. This, if he had been a wise young man, ought to have put him on his guard, for, after all, what affair was it of his that the graceful, fair-faced girl by whose side he was walking, whose every tone was musical, and her speech more choice and correct than his own, was, as her stepmother had said, 'naught but a farmer's daughter,' and had no place at all among the refined scenes in which Jack seemed to see her, an ornament and a harmony? What though the shapely hands at which he cast a pained look had to twirl a sweeping brush or to feed calves-two possibilities that had presented themselves in Jack's swift discomfiting vision—instead of putting through them the elegant industries of ladies' lives, what business was that of Jack Bassett's? As, however, he was not a wise young man, these rational questions did not occur to him.

'On Sunday, then?' asked Jack, but was again rebuffed.

Permission to attend and sing at the morning and evening services was the sole privilege which the day of rest brought to Mavis. This was vexatious, but, as Jack was aware that the farmer never went to church, he immediately formed a subtle plan for meeting Mavis and Mrs. Wynn in the fields, and walking home to the farm with them. He could hardly persevere further in his attempts to get Mavis to name a day for her second visit to

Miss Nestle; his perceptions being quickened by his distrust of Wynn, he saw that she could not give an answer of her own free will, and he was, with all his youthful selfishness, too true a gentleman to place her in a painful or awkward position.

By the time the river-side came in view, and the useful little craft, ungratefully designated in Jack's thoughts that odious boat,' was reached, Mavis and her escort had contrived to find out more of each other's minds. Mavis knew that a soldier and nothing but a soldier Squire Bassett's son would be, and unspeakable was her admiration of his noble resolve, while she had no idea of what would be involved in the carrying out of it-for Jack had even yet sufficient discretion left to keep the family troubles to himself and Jack knew that the death of the girl's best friends had forced Mavis to abandon the hope of making an independence by the exercise of her musical gifts. She told him this very simply and frankly, as if it must of necessity be quite final, and Jack had a guilty feeling of satisfaction on hearing it. He had either inherited or acquired many of his father's notions, and among them a great dislike to any kind of publicity, even the most honourable, for women. Again, had he been wise, he might have taken warning; for what business of his was it whether the daughter of Farmer Wynn did or did not become a public singer?

'Don't be disappointed about it,' he said eagerly, 'you would never have liked it: indeed, I am sure you never could have done it. I could not imagine you on a stage with a lot of actors, and a crowd staring at you and discussing you.'

'I could not imagine that myself,' said Mavis, smiling, and it was never thought of. My uncle did not hope for anything beyond concert-singing for me. And, I dare say, I should never have had courage for that. At all events, I must think of it no more.'

They had come to the river-side, where the boat was made fast to the post. The arbour was unoccupied; the dame's parlour side presented a sunny, solitary aspect; on the roof sat peaceful pigeons, no near sound was to be heard except the pleasant ripple of the water under the boat's keel. Trotty Veck jumped into the little craft with a joyful bark as his master laid his hand on the rope to loose it; Jack turned an entreating look on Mavis.

'You'll let me take you across?' he said.

'No, thank you,' she answered, and she looked over to the far side of the stream with the same anxious expression that Jack had already noticed; I would rather not.'

Come out, sir, you're not to go,' said Jack sharply to Trotty, who obeyed, but under protest, and then with a touch of the

cruelty of his sex and age he took a stately leave of Mavis, who, as he was well aware, could not do otherwise than deny his request; and, having seen her pull off, turned away and took the return path with ostentatious haste.

'I have offended him,' thought Mavis, and the tears sprang to her eyes; and he has been so kind. But I could not help it; how could I tell what sort of humour my father might be in, or what he would have said?'

Before she had time to say anything to her stepmother about the little adventure of her homeward walk, Mrs. Wynn began to tell her of Mr. Jack's visit, and how he had brought some books for her.

'I put them in your cupboard,' said Mrs. Wynn, in the confidential tone that had been established since their mutual explanation; 'it's just as well your father shouldn't see them. Lord knows how he'd take it; we cannot tell. Be quick, dear, and get your things off; you're wanted in the dairy.'

Mavis did as her gentle stepmother bade her, but she snatched two minutes to look at Tom Burke of Ours,' just to glance at a few of the dashing illustrations, and to think that Mr. Jack would make as fine a figure in his beautiful uniform, and be as brave a soldier, as any of those gallant gentlemen. Her father's voice calling her put the splendid vision to flight; she hurriedly replaced the book and obeyed the summons.

'So you've done your squalling, have you?'-thus Farmer Wynn addressed his daughter and can make yourself useful.' He had called her into the small room in which his business was transacted, and was standing by a table with a bundle of papers in his hand.

'I was going to help Rebecca in the dairy.' 'Rebecca be

desk and copy this.'

I tell you I want you here. Sit down at my

'Yes, father,' said Mavis, obediently, but she was more than usually hurt by Wynn's way of speaking to her. The sweet taste of courtesy and homage to her womanhood still lingered with her, and, because of it, this daily and hourly presented cup of coarse unkindness was additionally revolting. The paper was an inventory of house furniture and fittings, and Mavis made the required copy diligently. She had just completed her task when her father came back into the room, and she handed him the paper.

'That will do,' he said. 'Now be off-I'm busy.'

Mavis, only too glad to be dismissed, rejoined Mrs. Wynn, and told her of the task her father had set her.

'What can he want of another list ?-inventory it's called at the top of the paper,' said Mavis,

VOL. LIII. NO. CCIX.