d for the greater portion of
his flock; but he made up for this by the simplicity of his conversation
when he talked to them at their own houses.

He seldom was seen without a sort of school-boy satchel at his back,
containing a small hammer and other useful tools, which, it was
believed, had actually carried his lesson-books years ago. All the
villagers knew his strong-and-weak point, and he rarely appeared amongst
them without having various stones and imaginary curiosities presented
to him, particularly by the young people. Many of these stones found
their way into his bag, and it was not to be wondered at that he had a
somewhat round back, as he frequently carried a load upon it, that a
beast of burden would not have rejoiced in.

He and Mrs Jonathan were a remarkable pair; one of those ill-assorted
couples that you wonder at. 'How in the world did they come together?'
was the usual question, the philosophic reply to which would have been,
that theirs was actually one of the 'Matches made in heaven.' The
gentleman got money to enable him to follow the bent of his genius
without anxiety for his daily bread, and therewith a stirring wife to
take care of him and his house; the wife got her great desideratum, a
husband, and therewith the desideratum of all women, her own way.

But we must return to Netta and the other belligerents. As nothing more
was to be made of her at present, they let her alone, perhaps the wisest
thing they could do, and sat down to dinner. Netta declined eating, and
consequently was left to her own reflections. Mr Prothero inquired
anxiously of his wife, when he had cooled a little, whether he had
really hurt Netta when he took hold of her arm; to which Mrs Prothero
replied with unusual severity, 'No, perhaps it had been better if you
had; she wanted some trial or punishment to bring down her proud
spirit.'

In the course of the evening, a little before Mr and Mrs Jonathan left
Glanyravon to return home, Miss Gwynne came to inquire for the poor
Irish girl. She joined the party in the parlour for a short time, and
gave a message from her father to Rowland, to the effect that he was
very anxious for another game of chess, and begged him to come and dine
at the Park on the morrow. Of course Rowland was only too happy, and the
rest of the party too proud.

'Papa is disgusted at your having beaten him the other night,' said Miss
Gwynne to Rowland.

'I think Mr Gwynne got tired,' said Rowland mo