t would certainly have sought his friend's
advice in his troubles.

After that it was too late for his interference. Mr. Withers had
watched the state of matters at the Hall, and his young wife had often
urged him to try to induce Herbert Penfold to rouse himself and assert
himself against his sisters, but the vicar remained neutral. He saw
that though at times Herbert was a little impatient at the domination
of his sisters, and a chance word showed that he nourished a feeling
of resentment toward them, he was actually incapable of nerving
himself to the necessary effort required to shake off their influence
altogether, and to request them to leave the Hall.

Nothing short of this would suffice to establish his independence; for
after a mere temporary assertion of authority he would, if they
remained there, assuredly speedily allow affairs to lapse into their
present state, and the vicar thought that harm rather than good would
be caused by his interference, and that, as his influence would be
sure to be suspected, there would be a breach between the Hall and the
Rectory. As it was the connection was an intimate one. Herbert was
always glad to see him when he came in for a talk in the course of his
rounds, or when he and his wife would come up to dine quietly. The
Miss Penfolds were always ready with their purses to aid him to carry
out his schemes for the good of the parish, and to sympathize with his
young wife in her troubles; for of these she had a large share--all
her children, save one girl, having been carried off in their infancy.

Mabel Withers was as much at home at the Hall as at the Rectory. She
was chief pet and favorite with Mr. Penfold; and although his sisters
considered that the rector allowed her to run wild, and that under
such license she was growing up a sad tomboy, they could not withstand
the influence of the child's happy and fearless disposition, and were
in their way very kind to her.

Such was the state of things at Penfold Hall when its owner's sudden
announcement that he had invited young Ralph Conway to come to stay
there had fallen like a bombshell upon his sisters.

The invitation had caused almost as much surprise to Mrs. Conway as to
the Miss Penfolds. Her father had died a few months after her
marriage, and at the death of her husband she found herself left with
an income of about a hundred a year--the interest of the sum for which
he had insured his life.

To her surprise she h