lone. Think what you have been,
and what you must resign."

The lady sighed deeply, and answered--

"It is, Mr Littleton, just because I cannot forget what I have been, that
I come here to make amends for past neglect and sinfulness. I have a debt
_there_, sir"--and she pointed solemnly towards the sky--"which must be
paid. I have been an unfaithful steward, and must be reconciled to my good
master ere I die. You may trust me. You know my income and my means. It is
trifling; comparatively speaking--nothing. Yet, less than half of it must
suffice for my support. The rest is for your flock. You shall distribute
it, and you shall teach me how to minister to their temporal
necessities--how to labour for their eternal glory. The world and I have
parted, and for ever."

"I will not oppose you further madam. You shall make the trial if you
please, and yet"--the vicar hesitated.

"Pray speak, sir," said the lady.

"I was thinking of your accommodation. Here I could not well receive
you--and I know no other house becoming"--

"Do not mock me, Mr Littleton. A room in the cot of your poorest
parishioner is more than I deserve--more than the good fishermen of
Galilee could sometimes find. Think of me, I beg, as I am--not as I have
been."

As the lady spoke, a servant-maid entered the apartment with the
supper-tray, which the good vicar had ordered shortly after the arrival of
his guest. During the repast, it was arranged that the lady should pass
the night in the cottage of John Humphrys, a man acknowledged to be the
most industrious in the village, and who had become the especial favourite
of the vicar, by marrying, as the latter jocosely termed it, into his
family. John Humphrys' wife had been the vicar's housekeeper. The Reverend
Hugh Littleton was a bachelor, and had always been most cautious and
discreet. Although he had a bed to spare, he did not think of offering it
to his handsome visitor; nor, and this is more remarkable, did he again
that evening resume the subject of their previous conversation. He spoke
of matters connected with the world, from which he had been separated for
half a century, but from whose turmoil the lady had only a few weeks
before disentangled herself. To a good churchman, the condition of the
Church is always a subject of the deepest interest, as her prosperity is a
source of gratitude and joy. Tidings of the movement which had recently
taken place in the very heart of the Establishment had