uld hand
across the book-board his ancient silver snuff-box, of the contents of
which he himself partook freely and noisily. Of course, Margery only
used it politely, after the manner of a scent-bottle; and then Grace
came in for her turn of it, with a warning glance from nurse to beware
of staining her hat-strings, or any other serious effects from the
odorous powder. If Walter happened to be invited to enjoy the
privilege, he always contrived to secrete a deposit of the snuff between
his finger and thumb, being most anxious to imitate the tinsmith's
accomplishment. He was, however, afraid to make his first essay in
church, in case of sneezing symptoms, and before he had a chance of a
quiet moment to make the experiment when they left the pew, he used
generally to be caught by Margery, and summoned to put on his glove like
a gentleman, and any resistance was sure to end in the discovery and
loss of the precious pinch of snuff. Then the tinsmith's wife had also
her own congenial resources for comfort during service, which she
delighted to share with her neighbours. Grace used to receive a little
tap on the shoulder, and, on looking round, a box of peppermint lozenges
lay waiting her in the old woman's fat palm. These were very homely
little interchanges of friendship, but they made part of the happy
childish world to Grace, and years after, when the old pew knew her no
more, and she asked admittance to it as a stranger, she glanced round in
the vain hope of catching a glimpse of the broad, shining, kindly faces
of the old couple, feeling that to see them in their place would bring
back many pleasanter bygone associations than snuff and peppermint
lozenges.

On this Sunday afternoon Grace perceived that there was something out of
the ordinary routine in prospect. The pews were filling more quickly
than they usually did. Strangers were gathering in the passage, and a
general flutter of excitement and expectation seemed everywhere to
prevail.

"What is going to happen, I wonder, Margery?" whispered Grace,
impatiently; and presently the tinsmith leant across the book-board and
kindly volunteered the information that they were going to have a
"strange minister the night, and a special collection for some
new-fangled thing."

And then Grace turned towards the pulpit in time to see the "strange
minister," who had just entered it. He was a tall man, of a stately
though easy presence, with grace and life in every gesture. As