Ross, Wilfrid Stocker had been home for some six months. For three months of that time he had led an idle and disreputable life. In fact, all Nookham had come to look upon him as a reckless ne'er-do-wellall but the inn-keeper, who stood alone in speaking well of him; and we all know what, as a rule, that means. But for the past three months he had been uncommonly steady; inasmuch as the inn-keeper began to say that he thought perhaps he (Boniface) had been mistaken in the young man, and that what people had said was about right; but then the people replied that to their mind Wilfrid had certainly improved; whereat the innkeeper said that he hated to see people always changing their minds-he believed some of 'em would say anything for the sake of contradicting.

The fact was that Wilfrid had fallen under the spell of Rosina Ross. Her pretty face, her stylish dress, and her affected ways had combined to make an irresistible appeal to his shallow judgment. He knew that to win her regard he must abandon his loose conduct. Yet in coming to this conclusion it was the respectability of her father, and the high character of her sister, that weighed with him, rather than any influence for good which Rosina herself appeared to exercise. The Rosses all regularly attended church. Wilfrid would make that his custom also. The idea had all the charm of novelty for him. His conduct was watched. And so it came to pass that in a very short space of time he was invited to take part in a parish concert for the people; for it was known that whatever other accomplishments he might lack, he was passionately fond of music, and was wonderfully proficient on the fiddle. At this concert he met Rosina Ross; and, indeed, had the happiness of turning over her music as she accompanied herself on the piano to some of that artistic screaming of hers. This Completed the conquesta fact of which Rosina soon became aware.

Jeanie also soon began to have her suspicions. On that eventful afternoon when she saw them under Queen Elizabeth's oak, the suspicions came near to confirmation.

As Rosina came hurrying across to Jeanie, the latter noticed that her sister's face was very red-as red as the rose that- Where was that red rose that Rosina had worn just before she met Mr. Stocker? Jeanie hastily glanced in the direction of that young man, and as he was just rounding the curve in the pathway which led from the oak to Larkspur Bridge, she caught sight of that same red rose, blushing itself to death in the topmost button-hole of Wilfrid Stocker's coat. Now she felt sure of what she had suspected; and moreover felt a painful throbbing at her heart, and a choking sensation in her throat. What would father say ? Their dear fond father, of whom Jeanie was so passionately fond, but whose favourite child was the pretty, childlike, wilful, selfish, frivolous Rosina? Crawfurd Ross was indeed an

indulgent parent. He was, too, a man who had communed with nature and with nature's God-a religious and an intellectual manone of Nature's Christian noblemen. Yet who is perfect. Crawfurd Ross had certainly his little foibles. One of them, and perhaps the chief of them, was his pride in the character and reputation of his family. Surely his family ties were attached to his very heart-strings! Though not rich he was of gentle descent, and he was proud of it. He was still more proud of his ability to trace back his ancestry through generations of reputable and thrifty people-the sort of people who have gained Scotland a world-wide reputation for producing men of unsurpassed industry and unimpeachable honesty.

How serenely happy they were now, in their little home at Nookham! The old gardener had left his bonnie native land because he could not endure to enjoy it after the death of his wife there; but now, in Nookham, amongst his flowers-his two dear girls the bonniest of them a', as he would say he was as happy as the day was long; and in his happiness the memory of his wife was an element almost as sweet as sad. Ah! Jeanie knew too well her father's hearty scorn for what was mean or base in character-as well as she knew that, if what she dreaded should come to pass, the old man's heart would surely break. (To be continued.)

MARY REDPATH'S RESOLUTION.
CHAPTER L.-DRIFTING FROM DUTY.

RULY, there was no doubt that a great change had taken place in Mary Redpath since her marriage. Whilst a servant at the house of Squire Thorne, there was not a happier girl in Greytown. She went cheerfully about her work day by day, doing it well and energetically; and it was little wonder that she had won the heart of industrious young Robert Redpath, the clever day gardener whose services had occasionally been employed by the Squire. They married, and Robert acquired a pretty little cottage on the outskirts of Greytown, which he (not forgetting to stock a pretty little garden), furnished comfortably and neatly. When he took his young wife to the home he had provided for her, a happy life seemed to lie before them. But only a very short period had elapsed when somehow it began to be whispered amongst the neighbours that Mr. and Mrs. Redpath did not get along so pleasantly as they might do. Not that

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the young couple had ever been known to quarrel; for Robert was a man of few words, and would not be likely to waste his breath in open disagreement with any one; and all his actions proved that he was devoted to his wife. Nevertheless, all was not as it should be with the Redpaths. How was it, the neighbours asked, that Mr. and Mrs. Redpath so seldom went out together? That seemed a gravely significant fact. There was nothing to hinder them; and they had plenty of friends in the town who would make them welcome. So the gossipping neighbours decided that there must be something amiss. Well, for once in a while there was some foundation for the gossip. Robert, who had been always used to a well-ordered home, speedily found, to his sorrow, that his wife began to neglect her household duties as soon as she was married. She, like many more, had probably imagined that marriage would bring an almost total cessation of work. She was now to be her own mistress; Robert would labour, and she would have the day in which to amuse herself. For, she supposed, in such a tiny cottage, she would have very little more to do beyond preparing his tea in the evening, and his dinner when his work allowed him to get home to it, and then she would have ample leisure in which to do as she liked. So on the very first day after their honeymoon was over, as soon as Robert had started off to his work, she proceeded to discuss with her idle neighbours the state of the weather, the topics of the town, the failure of Mr. Jones the tea-grocer, the prospects of marriage of the Squire's daughters, and other people's busi ness in general.

She had no difficulty in finding companions. There were women in Greytown who had pursued a gossipping career for so long a time that they had acquired a vast mass of interesting (but mostly false) information concerning everybody in the town. And here was a perfect novice in the gossipping art, who would not only make an excellent listener for some time to come, but who might be able to impart some particulars of the inner life up at the squire's which would afford them fresh food for scandal.

Well, the absorbing communications of Mrs. Smith and the fascinating "confidences" of Mrs. Brown could not be attended to at the same time as Mary's household work; and the work suffered. The change in the young wife did not of course take place all at once. She had found out that if she would keep her little house in order she would have to do a great deal more work than she had anticipated. This discovery disappointed her. She could not bring herself to accept cheerfully the fact that she must settle down to work as resolutely as she had been used to do up at Squire Thorne's. Up to this time, however, she had not become absolutely a confirmed gossip. She had spent a part of each day in attending to her home duties, and things had gone along passably well. At one time she even made an attempt to shake off some of the talkative acquaintances she had made, for she found that the number of them grew very quickly, and some of the additions to the list made by the introductions of those she had first conversed with were far from desirable persons. She found out that the respectable friends who had made much of her before her marriage hardly cared to give her a passing nod when they saw her in the company of some new cronies whom she found herself forced to speak to; and this circumstance had made her for a time consider rather seriously the course she had taken.

(To be continued. ›

CHURCH AND TEMPERANCE NOTES.

In a recently-issued work, Dr. H. Putman Stearns, Lecturer on Insanity in Yale College, U.S.A., says "No change in the customs of society would exert a larger influence towards the prevention of insanity than abstinence from the use of alcoholic beverages by both parents and children.'

LUTHER MEMORIALS.-A Luther monument is to be erected in Berlin. The German Lutheran Synod of America has voted 30,000 dollars for the endowment of a Lutheran Professorship in the Seminary of Philadelphia. A Life of Luther, to be largely distributed gratuitously, is to be published in Berlin. A memorial home for daughters of Evangelical clergymen and schoolmasters is to be erected, for which the City has made a free grant of land. And 25,000 marks are to be expended on the publication of Lutheran literature.

SOMETHING NEW UNDER THE SUN.-The Lincolnshire Free Press recently contained the following item :- "Solomon says there's no new thing under the sun.' Probably had he been living in this startling age, he would have made an exception in favour of the little incident which occurred at Wisbeach last week. A reformed drunkard, having become sufficiently affluent, as the result of his change of life, to possess a new traction engine, brought it into requisition for the first time on Wednesday last. And what was its first act? To draw four waggon loads of neat and happy looking Band of Hope children a distance of five miles to participate in the Temperance demonstration at Wisbeach. And the huge machine puffed and snorted and pulled as if it was proud of its work, whilst an amused and excited crowd heartily applauded the 'Teetotal traction engine.'

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THE PRIMATE PAYING HIS WAY.-Before the preseut Archbishop couldi become Primate of All England and Metropolitan, a peer of England, and a, member of the House of Lords, he had to spend no less than £885 5s. 6d. in fees. The Home Office claimed £62 19s. It cost him more than twelve guineas to swear the oath of homage. For the restitution of his temporalities by the State he paid £14 to the Home Office and £112 to the Crown Office. Altogether, to the latter office he paid £267 8s. When he was elected by the Dean and Chapter of Canterbury, he gave £20, 10s. “im lieu of twenty wethers for an entertainment.". Then he had to pay £25 for a petition to the Queen for giving the Dean and Chapter leave to elect. The Board of Green Cloth got £30 and extra fourpence as homage fees." He paid fees to everybody in the Cathedral, from the precentor to the organ blower, the latter claiming 5s. The choristers took more than ten guineas./ Then he had to pay £36 for registration. He had to be confirmed in Bow,› and had fees to rector, sexton, clerk, organ-blower, bell-ringer, and pewopener to pay over again. At his enthronement the registrar of the diocese claimed nine guineas. When he was introduced to the House of Lords, Black Rod demanded £10, the Clerk of Parliament £10, his assistant 30s., and eight door-keepers half a sovereign a-piece. Forty pounds had to be given to the cathedral library, and £150 and £131 to Queen Anne's bounty for firstfruits and tenths. Besides all this, he had to make obligatory petty payments of £23 9s. for all sorts of matters. Even daily newspapers are asking where is the sense in making a clergyman pay away gold in this ridiculous fashion? When the archbishop had an unlimited income it was, they say, of no moment; "but with £15,000 a year and so much to do with it, an archbishop is simply robbed when £900 is taken from him by Black> Rod, Green Cloth, and other stupid formal survivals of an age quite foreign to the day in which we live."

Cases for binding up Volumes of this Magazine will be issued at the end of the Year.