ing. "I was so
afraid, dear, I had offended her. She did not look pleased with me."

By this time they had got into a hansom, and were driving down to the
South Kensington Museum. Lavender would have preferred going into
the Park, but what if his aunt, in driving by, were to see them? He
explained to Sheila the absolute necessity of his having to tell that
fib about the four-o'clock engagement; and when she heard described
the drive in the closed brougham which she had escaped, perhaps she
was not so greatly inclined as she ought to have been to protest
against that piece of wickedness.

"Oh yes, she likes you awfully," he repeated, "and you must get to
like her. Don't be frightened by her harsh way of saying things: it
is only a mannerism. She is really a kind-hearted woman, and would
do anything for me. That's her best feature, looking at her character
from my point of view."

"How often must we go to see her?" asked Sheila.

"Oh, not very often. But she will get up dinner-parties, at which you
will be introduced to batches of her friends. And then the best thing
you can do is to put yourself under her instructions, and take her
advice about your dress and such matters, just as you did about your
hair. That was very good of you."

"I am glad you were pleased with me," said Sheila. "I will do what I
can to like her. But she must talk more respectfully of you."

Lavender laughed that little matter off as a joke, but it was no joke
to Sheila. She would try to like that old woman--yes: her duty to her
husband demanded that she should. But there are some things that a
wife--especially a girl who has been newly made a wife--will never
forget; which, on the contrary, she will remember with burning cheeks
and anger and indignation.

[TO BE CONTINUED.]

SOME PASSAGES IN SHELLEY'S EARLY HISTORY.

Shelley's connection with Stockdale is one of the curiosities of
literary history. It is as if Miranda had attached herself to the
fortunes of Caliban. An inexplicable thing, except upon the assumption
of the young poet's inexperience of men and his ignorance of affairs.
It is, moreover, a new passage in his life which has hitherto eluded
the most sagacious of his biographers. Who was Stockdale, and what
was the relationship between these two personages, so opposite in
character, intellect and pursuits? Stockdale's name was altogether
unknown to honest folks before Shelley gave it currency and introduced
the owner o