people at a neighbouring Lyceum. He had
chosen Ecclesiastical Architecture as his
subject, rather more in accordance with his own
taste and knowledge than as falling in
with the character of the place or the desire
for particular kinds of information among
those to whom he was to lecture. And the
institution itself, being in debt, was only too
glad to get a gratis course from an educated
and accomplished man like Mr. Hale, let the
subject be what it might.

"Well, mother," asked Mr. Thornton that
night, " who have accepted your invitations
for the twenty- first?"

"Fanny, where are the notes? The Slicksons
accept. Collingbrooks accept, Stephenses
accept, Browns decline. Hales—father and
daughter come,—mother too great an
invalid—Macphersons come, and Mr.
Horsfall, and Mr. Young. I was thinking
of asking the Porters, as the Browns can't
come."

"Very good. Do you know, I am really
afraid Mrs. Hale is very far from well, from
what Dr. Donaldson says."

"It is strange of them to accept a dinner-
invitation if she's very ill," said Fanny.

"I did not say very ill," said her brother,
rather sharply. " I only said very far from
well. They may not know it either." And
then he suddenly remembered that, from
what Dr. Donaldson had told him,
Margaret, at any rate, must be aware of the exact
state of the case.

"Very probably they are quite aware of
what you said yesterday, John—of the great
advantage it would be to them—to Mr. Hale, I
mean, to be introduced to such people as the
Stephenses and the Collingbrooks."

"I am sure, that motive would not influence
them. No! I think I understand how
it is."

"John! " said Fanny, laughing in her little,
weak, nervous way. " How you profess to
understand these Hales, and how you never
will allow that we can know anything about
them. Are they really so very different to
most people one meets with?"

She did not mean to vex him; but if she
had intended it, she could not have done it
more thoroughly. He chafed in silence,
however, not deigning to reply to her
question.

"They do not seem to me out of the com-
mon way," said Mrs. Thornton. "He appears
a worthy kind of man enough; rather too
simple for trade—so it's perhaps as well he
should have been a clergyman first, and now
a teacher. She's a bit of a fine lady with her
invalidism; and as for the girl—she's the
only one who puzzles me when I think about
her,—which I don't often do. She seems to
have a great notion of giving herself airs;
and I can't make out why. I could almost
fancy she thinks herself too good for her
company at times. And yet they're not rich;
from all I can hear they never have been."

"And she's not accomplished, mamma. She
can't play."

"Go on, Fanny. What else does she want
to bring her up to your standard?"

"Nay! John," said his mother, " that
speech of Fanny's did no harm. I myself
heard Miss Hale say she could not play. If
you would let us alone, we could perhaps like
her, and see her merits."

"I'm sure I never could! " murmured
Fanny, protected by her mother. Mr. Thornton
heard, but did not care to reply. He was
walking up and down the dining-room, wishing
that his mother would order candles, and
allow him to set to work at either reading
or writing, and so put a stop to the conversation.
But he never thought of interfering
in any of the small domestic regulations that
Mrs. Thornton observed, in habitual
remembrance of her old economies.

"Mother," said he, stopping, and bravely
speaking out the truth, " I wish you would
like Miss Hale."

"Why? " asked she, startled by his earnest
yet tender manner. " You 're never thinking
of marrying her?—a girl without a penny."

"She would never have me," said he, with
a short laugh.

"No, I don't think she would," answered
his mother. " She laughed in my face when
I praised her for speaking out something Mr.
Bell had said in your favour. I liked the
girl for doing it so frankly, for it made me
sure she had no thought of you; and the
next minute she vexed me so by seeming to
think—Well, never mind! Only you're
right in saying she's too good an opinion of
herself to think of you. The saucy jade!
I should like to know where she 'd find a
better!"

If these words hurt her son, the dusky
light prevented him from betraying any
emotion. In a minute he came up quite
cheerfully to his mother, and putting one
hand lightly on her shoulder, said:
"Well, as I'm just as much convinced of
the truth of what you have been saying as
you can be; and as I have no thought or
expectation of ever asking her to be my wife,
you'll believe me for the future that I'm
quite disinterested in speaking about her. I
foresee trouble for that girl—perhaps, want
of motherly care—and I only wish you to be
ready to be a friend to her in case she needs
one. Now, Fanny," said he, "I trust you
have delicacy enough to understand that it is
as great an injury to Miss Hale as to me—in
fact, she would think it a greater—to suppose
that I have any reason more than I now give
for begging you and my mother to show her
every kindly attention."

"I cannot forgive her her pride," said his
mother; "I will befriend her, if there is
need, for your asking, John. I would
befriend Jezebel herself if you asked me. But
this girl, who turns up her nose at us all—
who turns up her nose at you—"