vividness with which two distinct mental processes were presented by the varied action of a single organ: and Vizard then began to suspect that a creature stood before him with a power of discerning and digesting truth, such as he had not yet encountered either in man or woman. She entered on her British adventures in her clear silvery voice; it was not, like Ina Klosking's, rich, and deep, and tender: yet it had a certain gentle beauty to those who love truth, because it was dispassionate, yet expressive, and cool, yet not cold: one might call it truth's silver trumpet.

On the brink of this extraordinary passage I pause to make no less than three remarks in my own person. 1st, Let no reader of mine allow himself to fancy Rhoda Gale and her antecedents are a mere excrescence of my story: she was rooted to it even before the first scene of it. the meeting of Ashmead and the Klosking-and this will soon appear. 2d, She is now going into a controverted matter; and though she is sincere and truthful, she is of necessity a partisan. Do not take her for a judge. You

be the judge. 3d, But, as a judge never shuts his mind to either side, do not refuse her a fair hearing. Above all, do not underrate the question. Let not the balance of your understanding be so upset by ephemeral childishness, as to fancy that it matters much whether you break an egg top or bottom, because Gulliver's two nations went to war about it; or that it matters much whether your Queen is called Queen of India or Empress, because two parties made a noise about it, and the country has wasted ten thousand square miles of good paper on the subject. Fight against these illusions of petty and ephemeral minds. It does not matter to mankind whether any one woman is called Queen, or Empress, of India; and it matters greatly to mankind whether the whole race of women are to be allowed to study medicine, and practise it, if they can rival the male, or are to be debarred from testing their scientific ability, and so outlawed, though taxed in defiance of British liberty, and all justice human and divine, by eleven hundred lawgivers-most of 'em fools.

2 G

VOL. CXX.-NO. DCCXXXII.

Thomas, as he followed his friend's broad back to the shoulder of lamb. Then he thought of himself as the

friend of the hero, and sighed once more over the good behaviour of those ponies.

The next morning, after an early swim and a great breakfast, the two friends turned their boat's head up stream, and set out for Raynham Farm.

Orlando, overflowing with delight in oar, and stream, and summer air, burst ever and anon into conventional expressions, uttered in a fine tone of mockery. "May I ask for a dance?" he shouted. "Where are we to sit? When do you ride?" and then with a great burst of laughter he hazarded the observation, "I think I know your brother."

Thomas, swinging steadily behind his friend's broad shoulders, could not keep his eyes from the bank, gracious with river-flowers-the iris standing tall, strong, and graceful in the stream, or crowned with gold among the meaner reeds; the forget-me-nots nestling by the dimpled water; the fair, white water-lilies withdrawn shyly into shadowed nooks; and loosestrife frequent in the more common crowd. The boat passed on by cows standing deep in the cool; by the swanmother busy in a stately fashion among the rushes, while her mate sailed near, proud as a king, and ready ruffled for war; by grand clusters of trees, and creeks half hidden in the tangled thicket; by trim gardens and wild hanging woods. So the rowers moved from beauty on to beauty, with ears charmed by the gossip of birds, and soothed by the rushing of the faroff weir. So they bent to the oar, and were not aweary of rowing when they came to the smooth

shelving lawn of the sweetest of river-side places. And on the lawn fair girls were moving gladly, and they tossed the ball from one to another. Now when they saw the two young men run their boat carefully by the old water-steps, and ship their oars, Letty and Jo, who were young girls, and still in the schoolroom, shrank back, and began to whisper together, and to glance, and Jo almost to giggle; but Jeanie, though she paused for a moment like a startled deer, and let the ball lie idle at her feet, came presently forward with her head up, and looking with open honest eyes. She came neither quickly nor slowly, giving the young men time to fasten their boat, before she met Orlando with a little sun-burnt hand outstretched. "Please let me thank you again," she said, "and don't be angry.'

The young man laughed somewhat sheepishly. "It was very hot," he said, "and I was glad of a plunge."

"But I might have drowned you." "Not much fear," said he, in the pride of his strength; "and besides, you behaved so well, and kept your head. It was nothing; and I feel such a fool when I am thanked."

Now, while these two were talking, Thomas was thinking many thoughts, as his custom was, and had all sorts of feelings; for the girl whom his friend had saved in the afternoon was she who had driven the ponies in the morning. All in a moment he was preposter

ously glad and absurdly wretched. It was a great thing that wonders should happen in an age when miracles are announced by telegram; but how might they not shatter a sensitive and sentimental man!

When Jeanie looked at Thomas, she wondered why his face had so many expressions, and what they all meant. She thought that he was shy; and so when Orlando said, "This is Thomas, my friend," she smiled very kindly, and held out her hand. Then she explained to her guests that her father had been obliged to go to town, but would be back in the afternoon; that they were to dine and sleep there; that they might remain in flannel; and finally, that their rooms were ready.

Before the friends had time to expostulate they found themselves and their bags being conducted by a servant to the house.

"What a wonderful little manager!" said Orlando, in a voice which he believed to be low.

"What a perfect child!" said Thomas to himself.

When they came back to the lawn Miss Dorian was alone, having sent her younger sisters to the schoolroom. She played the hostess with strange simplicity, and showed them all the small beauties of the place without a doubt of their interest. Orlando was unusually gentle, and Thomas thought of Una and the lion as he watched the pair before him.

Nor was the young woman unmindful of the shy man. She made many little remarks to him, and sometimes turned to look at him with sympathetic curiosity in her eyes. She laughed at something which the big Orlando said, and betrayed by the sound of her laughter a delight in fun which thrilled the hearers. When Una laughed, the lion roared with laughter; and so

laughing and talking they went to see the shrubberies, the copperbeech, the monkey-puzzler, the hollow tree with the peep-hole towards the river, the old kitchengarden half filled by intrusive flowers and sturdy lavender-bushes, the field with the new hay-stack, and the farmyard where the white pigeons sunned themselves on the dull red roof and the geese walked in procession, and the sweet-smelling stalls were ready for the heavy COWS. Orlando talked of his admiration at every corner, but Thomas said little until they came to the stables.

"These are my ponies," said Miss Dorian with pride.

"I saw you driving them yesterday morning," said Thomas, briefly.

"Did you?" asked she, kindling with interest. "How strange! It must have been you I passed walking alone close to Darley Court. I remember wondering if my ponies would take fright."

"I wish they had," said he. "You wish they had taken fright?" she asked, round-eyed with surprise.

"No, no. I beg your pardon. I meant something else."

He laughed uneasily as she still looked at him with frank curiosity. She thought him a mysterious young man.

When everything else had been duly admired, the attention of the guests was called to the merits of the house, so roomy yet so modest, so near the river and so free from damp, with its old brick weatherstained and laced, but not strangled, by ivy, and its deep veranda cool all day long. Indeed it is in all respects what a house by the river Thames should be.

At luncheon Miss Jeanie Dorian presided with perfect self-possession, now checking her youngest sister with a glance, which it was equally

impossible to defy and to resent, now encouraging that meekest of governesses Miss Tubb. It was clear that this lady regarded Miss Dorian, who was at least ten years younger than herself, with extraordinary deference. When she ventured on a remark, she seemed to plead for her approval, and she put to her a series of chance questions, which had evidently been rehearsed in private. She blushed a good deal at finding herself in the society of two strange gentlemen, and was driven into desperate conversation by the eyes of her two pupils. She was painfully conscious that a new chapter would be added to the false history of her life, on which Jo, most imaginative of biographers, was always engaged. For many years romantic incidents had been growing round her uneventful life, and Jo would have long since raised her to the rank of the most heroic heroine that had ever been, had she not been checked by the chastening criticism of the more prosaic Letty. This romantic chronicle was the great delight of the schoolroom, and, on the whole, a not unpleasant torture to the victim. Yet when Orlando suggested a glass of ale or Thomas handed the strawberries, Miss Tubb trembled to think what was passing in her pupil's mind; while Jo shook her curly head at the governess, and burst out laughing at the surprised expression of Thomas. This contemplative young man was still more surprised when Miss Jeanie, who had been indulging herself with trifling talk, began to question him with becoming gravity about the Oxford colleges. Was not this too fast, and that too slow? She must find one where exactly the right amount of encouragement was given to athletics. Could a man row and read? Could he read and hunt once a-week? When Thomas had answered several

questions of the kind, Orlando began to laugh and asked her if she were going to the University.

"No," she said, sedately, "but I have a brother at Eton between me and the girls.”

"The girls!" muttered Orlando under his breath-and presently asked her, almost diffidently, if she arranged everything.

"Yes," she answered, raising her eyebrows a little; "I am the eldest, and I have to do things."

Then she turned to the governess, and asked her if she and the girls would join them later on the lawn. Miss Tubb murmured her thanks, blushed under Jo's eye, and looked appealingly at Letty, who got her out of the room.

"She is quite invaluable," said Miss Jeanie, gravely, to the young men; and then a sudden flush came over her face, and her mouth was round as a child's as she said, "Oh, do you play lawn tennis?"

In a few minutes she was ready, clad in a suitable gown, and armed with her favourite racquet, and was quickly absorbed in a tremendous struggle with Orlando. She laughed when the genial young giant reached strokes which seemed impossible, and he laughed twice as loud admiring her skill and quickness, her parted lips, her eager looks, and all the beauty which seemed nothing to her. Thomas, watching the players, thought how much alike they were, and yet how different, and how very quickly they had become friends. For some reason he could not feel their gaiety, and his thoughts wandered off with sympathy to Miss Tubb, who had of course been disappointed in life, as anybody could see.

This was one of those rare summer days which seem to have no end. Each is a life as happy as uneventful, and its chronicle must be tedious as the biography of a maiden