the stage. Mr. Boanerges, whom, ordinarily, you have to request not to speak quite so loud, comes on to say ten lines of dialogue, and for all one can hear of him, from the front, he might as well be performing the part of a dumb slave in a ballet of action, only that he has about as much action as the old-fashioned flat wooden doll, with hardly chiselled features and a black beard, whose arms and legs are moved by one string.

The best memories fail: the overzealous Prompter gives the word twenty times when the unfortunate actor has only paused for dramatic effect; or he has lost the place in the prompt book, or is giving directions about the lights, just at a critical moment, when the whole dramatis persona have come to a dead lock. These things will happen even in the very best regulated Private Theatricals, and so, I suppose, those at Ringhurst were no exception to the rule. I thought them perfection.

Alice looked lovely as a marquise, and Cavander attended her in the greenroom, on the pretence of holding her book, and hearing her her part up to the last minute.

There was a lady looked into this green-room, and, fearing lest she might be on forbidden ground, withdrew, but, as if acting upon a second thought, looked in again to say

"James-I beg your pardon, Miss Alice-how charming you look-I only want to speak to James a moment."

"Oh, come in, Mrs. Cavander," said Miss Alice, graciously.

Mrs. Cavander had arrived that evening. I did not remember having heard any mention of her before this. At first it occurred to me that it might be Mr. Cavander's mother; but her appearance at once dispelled this notion. Cavander himself seemed to be a little annoyed. I could not recognize, at that time, that Mrs. Cavander resembled the stagecoach, which was very useful in its day, but has been superseded by steam. When James Cavander, years ago, was on the look-out for a lift along the road of life, this heavy vehicle had picked and had helped him on his way.

him up,

She was a fluffy woman, with dumpy nails. A bolster tied round tightly with a string, would have had as much pretension to figure as Mrs. Cavander. Her portrait, taken when she was a girl, represents as comely and buxom a lass, as any yeoman's daughter need be.

She worshipped her husband, and the object of her idolatry thought her a fool for her superstition. If she talked of his faults to her confidential friends, it was only to palliate them, and excuse him. If she came to her intimates with a tale of her being hardly treated, or neglected, she would tell the fact as a fable, whereof the moral was, that James was not to blame, and that she was treated according to her deserts. At first her friends pitied her, but before long lost patience with her. She complained, and would hear of no remedy. She had expended all the spirit she had ever possessed, when she had insisted upon marrying in obedience to the dictates of her own heart. So she had her money, and went her way. Her father washed his hands of the affair. She was entitled to a certain sum at her own disposal; but not one penny more would the old man give her. She invested her property in James Cavander, and Mr. Griffiths, a well-to-do country solicitor, did not approve the speculation. Betsy, however, was obstinate. Fluffy people when obstinate are hopeless. You can't break pillows. Glass offers formidable resistance, and retaliates cruelly. A pillow yields with the feeblest opposition. You do not hurt yourself, or it, by offering violence. After a contention in which your pommellings are active and the pillow pommelled is passive, both remain as before -the pommeller having the worst of it.

So Betsy Griffiths insisted placidly on being Mrs. Cavander, and ran away with him or rather to him, for he did not go out of his way to fetch her. What was the use, if she was determined? Evidently none; only a waste of time and money.

Mrs. Cavander was now as obstinate Not that she was not pliable as fresh putty in her husband's hand,

as ever.

for whom she would have done anything; but this was the effect of her obstinacy, and her obstinacy was the effect of her infatuation. She persisted in loving him obstinately, with a dumb animal kind of attachment, which is not reasonable affection.

Mrs. Van Clym was a friend of hers. My aunt congratulated herself on having brought Mrs. Cavander over to her own particular way of thinking in religious matters. This Mrs. Clym called "conversion." She was wrong about Mrs. Cavander, who would agree with any friend, on any religious question, as long as she herself could obtain a listener and a temporary confidant for her own sorrows. At Ringhurst she was mildly charmed with Alice's talk about Gothic churches, altars, vestments, and her sort of enthusiastical mysticism. Alice, in her turn, thought her a convert to High Churchism, and began to see an additional reason for her husband becoming a believer.

Mrs. Cavander with a Wesleyan would have been, negatively, a Wesleyan, with a Catholic a Catholic, with an Irvingite an Irvingite; in fact, all things to all women, only let them in turn listen to her tale of woe.

"Bah!" said Mrs. Clym, after some experience of her, "she has as much real religion as a pudding."

The truth was Mrs. Cavander had no vacancy in her little mind for such matters. The object of her worship was James Cavander. The cause of her sorrow was James Cavander. She was devil's advocate against him, and then she refused to admit her own testimony, and, finally, canonized him.

"I do hope, Miss Alice," said Mrs. Cavander in the course of conversation this evening," that you will keep your promise of coming up and staying with us."

James Cavander smiled.

"Then," he said, "we shall be able to continue our arguments. You must come and stay with my wife, as a missionary."

Alice would be delighted, she replied, only Mrs. Cavander must obtain Mamma's

consent, for which this amiable wife promised to ask at once. Then, on her husband's arm and satisfied with having done her duty, and at all events pleased him, Mrs. Cavander returned to the drawing-room, where the audience were impatiently awaiting the rise of the

curtain.

The performance of the juniors went off with great satisfaction to themselves, and we were allowed to come to supper in our costumes. Fatima was considerably taller than her Bluebeard; but this difference exhibited, in the strongest colours, the mysterious moral ascendancy which Baron Abomelique had gained over his unhappy spouse, and I waved my wooden scimitar over the kneeling Fatima's devoted head (who begged me to content myself with cutting off her locks) with a bloodthirsty air. There was something soothing to my wounded feelings (for since Cavander had appeared I had had scarcely a word from Alice) in having her at my mercy, even in a play, for a few minutes. If Garrick in a rage

was six feet high, I, in this scene, was conscious of at least seven years, and eighteen inches, having been added to my life, and my stature.

As for Alice, she was the centre of attraction. After the performance, everyone crowded about her, and compliments were showered on her from all sides.

Cavander simply congratulated her, and left her to be worshipped.

He knew that the morrow was for him. Our party staying in the house had been swelled by our theatrical friends, who were to leave on the day after the performance, and by the Cavanders, who were to stop on for some little time. The Cavanders were Mr. James, his wife, and sister. The last was a brown-haired, mild-faced girl, many years younger than her brother, whom she only faintly resembled in her eyes. She had not been long away from school, so Austin told me, and, but for her brother's success in the City, Miss Cavander would have had to turn her education to some account, perhaps as a governess. Indeed, I have since heard that, for various reasons, which

Alice

Miss Cavander played the piano with great skill, but without much. feeling. There was just that difference between her style and Alice's. played partly from ear, partly from notes, never for show, always from liking. Miss Cavander performed as if she were invariably playing something that no one else could attempt, which, faultless in execution, should create about as much sympathy in the hearers, as a schoolboy's Greek declamation on a speech-day. Her finger-tips turned upwards, and her nails always seemed as if they had just come from under the scissors. She dressed neatly, and appeared homely, which, interpreted by society, means more or less stupid; though Miss Cavander was only apathetic, until she thought her interests involved, and then, somehow or another, she managed to have her own way, without getting off her chair, or allowing her ordinary occupations to be for one instant interrupted. To sum her up once and for all, Miss Cavander was an Influence, all the more powerful because unsuspected. Once admitted into a family she seemed to mingle with the atmosphere, and impalpably to pervade the entire household. And this description will be found to hold good when Miss Cavander shall be encountered once more, later on in this story. As she had nowhere else to go, she lived at her brother's, where she was a check upon Mrs. Cavander, and of considerable assistance, for domestic purposes, to Mr. James.

Own

The time at last came for separation. Austin was not returning to Old Carter's. I was going there for one quarter more. No. 166.-VOL. XXVIII.

Holyshade was then my destination, and Austin, whose health was delicate, was to be accompanied by a private tutor to the south of France.

We cried bitterly at parting, and promised to write frequently.

Carter's had changed. Mr. Venn had gone, some of the elder boys had left, and so had some of the younger ones.

This roll-call after an absence is repeated throughout life; and when the next long vacation is over, whose place at the desk will be vacant? Through whose name shall the black line be passed? What expectant junior shall occupy the position that was so lately. ours? There were plenty of empty places now at Old Carter's, and I Îooked forward with pleasure to the end of my time at this ill-managed school, where I had learnt little, except the stories of most of the Waverley Novels from my dear Austin Comberwood.

My attention was now given to what I was told I should have to do at Holyshade. The two Biffords had preceded me by more than a year, but they were far more advanced than I when they left. left. Carter's, however, did not profess to prepare for Holyshade especially, so, as it subsequently turned out, what I had managed to pick up was of very little use to me, when I came to take my place in one of the upper forms of the great public school.

My father had made all the necessary arrangements, and I was to board at the Rev. Mr. Keddy's. Thenceforth my father considered me a man. He gave me a watch, and allowed me, as by right, to dine at late dinner with him and his friends.

Now commenced my education in earnest. In my father's idea to be a Holyshadian was to be privileged. It was, to his thinking, who knew as little about Holyshade as he did of Oxford or Cambridge, a sort of degree conferred upon a boy, giving him a certain kind of status in society, which could be generally described as "making a man of him." It was a sort of esquireship leading to knighthood.

A A

The bachelor parties were frequent, but my father spent two nights a week regularly at the Cavanders. Cavander and he were inseparable; but though I saw more of this gentleman, I did not dislike him less, nor, as I have reason to believe, did he me.

CHAPTER XVIII.

I ADOPT A FASHION-ASSISTING IN MAKING A MAN SELF-IMPORTANCE-THE VERNEY GIRLS-TO ST. WINIFRID'S-A VISIT OF CEREMONY -MR. SWINGLE AND THE CRUMPETS-THE ACCIDENT WARD-I COME ACROSS SOME OLD ACQUAINTANCES IN A STRANGE WAY-I SEE ONE FOR THE LAST TIME.

I Now began to disdain jackets. knew that many years must elapse before my plumage would develop into a tail. Being possessed of liberty to roam London at will, and money to spend at pleasure, I used often to saunter up Oxford Street and admire the garments in a ready-made clothes shop, where I had seen a pea-jacket, on which I had set my heart. It appeared to me to be a compromise. It was not a tail, nor was it a short jacket. So in the process of making a man of myself I bought this garment for seven-and-sixpence, and walked home in triumph with it under my arm. I was a trifle nervous of meeting any member of my family. The next day I waited until my father had gone into the City, to put it on; and in order that I might run no chance of his seeing me in the course of the day, I cunningly inquired of him at what hour he considered his return probable. To this he answered that Mr. Cavander was going to dine with him at home earlier than usual, in fact at half-past five o'clock, as they were going to see some new play, to which, if I chose, I might accompany them: only, if so, I must be back, and ready dressed at the same time as the dinner. With this offer I at once closed, and made up my mind to forestall their arrival by half an hour, so as to get out of my new jacket, and into my ordinary one,

before they should come in to dress for dinner. My time for return I therefore fixed for half-past four. I turned up my collars to represent stick-ups, and tied my sailor's knot in a large bow, and feeling that, somehow or other, I was trying to make a man of myself, experiencing at the same time a halfconviction that I was probably making an ass of myself, I determined to brave the world's opinion as far as the top of Oxford Street and back; and so, with no particular object in view, except that of seeing how I liked, and how other people might like, my new clothes, I sallied forth.

I crossed the Park, and came out at the Bayswater end of Oxford Street.

At this moment I saw two young ladies most elegantly dressed.

A Colvin is, as I have before hinted, a sort of lightning conductor, where the glances of fair women are concerned. "It was," as the song says, (6 ever thus from childhood's years." The two young demoiselles who had attracted my attention turned out to be Miss Carlotta Lucille and Julie Lucrezia, who scarcely recognized me in my nondescript costume. I blushed considerably on meeting them, and devoutly wished my self back in my own proper dress; that is, at first, as they seemed to speak to me with some slight coldness and reserve, as though perhaps they considered me in the light of a Boy Detective, in disguise, for the purpose of taking juvenile delinquents. I do not know whether detectives are thus educated from childhood, but I should say not. Yet if the office be an important one to the safety of the community, surely a Training College for Detectives might be capable of valuable development. Julie informed me that they were just returning from a visit to their aunt, my Nurse Davis, at the hospital, which, if I felt inclined to call, I should find not very far off, and thereupon they gave me full and particular directions. They were glad enough to be quit of me; at least Carlotta Lucille, who was magnificent, certainly was, as she did not care to be seen walking about with such an absurd bundle

of clothes as I must have seemed. Carlotta was still with Madame Glissande, and, as a matter of business (for Madame taught all the best people in town), was attired in the height of fashion.

I determined to go and show myself to Nurse Davis, who, I felt sure, would be as proud of me as I was of myself. Besides, I should be able to tell her about my having to go to Holyshade at the end of the holidays. So I said goodbye to Carlotta and Julie. I should have liked Julie to have come with me, but as that could not be, I strutted off alone to St. Winifrid's Central Hospital, which I found without much difficulty. There were a number of steps up to the front entrance, and it seemed to me like going into a show. I remember experiencing a feeling approaching awe on first visiting the Polytechnic Institution, where, I know, I for a long time considered the lecturers as representing the highest scientific attainments of the English nation. I, perhaps, had my doubts as to the exact chair, in this learned body, which should be occupied by the Professor of Dissolving Views, whose voice sounded awfully from nowhere particular in the surrounding gloom; but from the first moment of my witnessing a startling experiment with a glass jar, some hydrogen, and some oxygen, out of which (I mean the experiment, not the jar) the Professor issued cool, calm, and triumphant, I placed the Chemical Lecturer on the highest pedestal, and mentally elected him to the Mastership of the Polytechnic.

I fancy that what brought the Polytechnic to my mind, at St. Winifrid's Hospital, was a kind of beadle, in a chocolate-coloured overcoat, with a gold band round his hat, who was on duty, behind a glass window at the entrance.

"What do you want?" he asked, opening a small pane and looking out suddenly, probably under the impression that I was an accident of some sort, rashly taking care of myself until I could obtain surgical aid.

"Does Mrs. Davis live here?" I inquired mildly.

"Mrs. Davis," he repeated, dubiously,

either on account of the name being strange to him, or because there were so many Missuses at St. Winifrid's as to make the selection of one particular Missus a considerable effort of memory, or because my pea-jacket and stick-up collars did not inspire a man in his position with much confidence as to my ulterior objects in asking for a respectable matron on that establishment. Whatever might have been the reason of his hesitation, he considered for a few seconds, and then asked cautiously

"What do you want her for?"

"I want to see her," I replied, innocently, resenting such unwarrantable curiosity on his part.

He touched a bell, and then whispered into what seemed to me to be a thing like an elephant's trunk sticking out of the wall.

The elephant's trunk snorted something by way of reply, whereupon the beadle, turning to me, said"What name?"

66

'My name?" I asked.

"Yes," answered the beadle sternly, frowning as though he had all long suspected me of some attempt at introducing myself into the hospital under an alias.

"Master Colvin," I replied.

"Master what?" he asked, still frowning. He was evidently of opinion that, in my next answer, I should manage to contradict myself, and so expose some deeply laid plan for robbing the donationbox, which his sagacity had been in time to prevent.

"Colvin," I repeated, and I am sure he was disappointed.

The beadle told this as a secret to the elephant's trunk, and in return the elephant's trunk conveyed the information that Mrs. Davis would be "with me directly; would I step in and sit down?"

I had scarcely time to avail myself of this polite invitation, and to ingratiate myself with the gradually-thawing official, before Nurse Davis, in a grey dress, with the neatest possible cap, wristbands, and collars, entered by a side door, took both my hands, and gave me a kiss.