m his
pocket a thin green-covered pamphlet, and, presenting it to the Countess,
said,--'You were pleased, I think, with my sermon on Christmas Day. It
has been printed in "The Pulpit," and I thought you might like a copy.'

'That indeed I shall. I shall quite value the opportunity of reading that
sermon. There was such depth in it!--such argument! It was not a sermon
to be heard only once. I am delighted that it should become generally
known, as it will be now it is printed in "The Pulpit."'

'Yes,' said Milly, innocently, 'I was so pleased with the editor's
letter.' And she drew out her little pocket-book, where she carefully
treasured the editorial autograph, while Mr. Barton laughed and blushed,
and said, 'Nonsense, Milly!'

'You see,' she said, giving the letter to the Countess, 'I am very proud
of the praise my husband gets.'

The sermon in question, by the by, was an extremely argumentative one on
the Incarnation; which, as it was preached to a congregation not one of
whom had any doubt of that doctrine, and to whom the Socinians therein
confuted were as unknown as the Arimaspians, was exceedingly well adapted
to trouble and confuse the Sheppertonian mind.

'Ah,' said the Countess, returning the editor's letter, 'he may well say
he will be glad of other sermons from the same source. But I would rather
you should publish your sermons in an independent volume, Mr. Barton; it
would be so desirable to have them in that shape. For instance, I could
send a copy to the Dean of Radborough. And there is Lord Blarney, whom I
knew before he was chancellor. I was a special favourite of his, and you
can't think what sweet things he used to say to me. I shall not resist
the temptation to write to him one of these days _sans facon_, and tell
him how he ought to dispose of the next vacant living in his gift.'

Whether Jet the spaniel, being a much more knowing dog than was
suspected, wished to express his disapproval of the Countess's last
speech, as not accordant with his ideas of wisdom and veracity, I cannot
say; but at this moment he jumped off her lap, and, turning his back upon
her, placed one paw on the fender, and held the other up to warm, as if
affecting to abstract himself from the current of conversation.

But now Mr. Bridmain brought out the chess-board, and Mr. Barton accepted
his challenge to play a game, with immense satisfaction. The Rev. Amos
was very fond of chess, as most people are who can continue thro