s to
go to an elderly first cousin; and then, after bequests to various
charities, came the grand item that the local solicitor had in his
mind when he foretold a salvo of newspaper comment.

The residue of the estate, the larger half of all the dead man's
possessions, was to be employed in the establishment of a Home for
parentless, unprotected, or destitute female children. The trustees of
this institution were to find a suitable site somewhere within five
miles of the Abbey House, and if possible on the Barradine property,
being guided in their selection of the exact spot by expert advice as
to the character of the soil, the qualities of the air, and the
facilities for obtaining a supply of pure water. When they had found
the site they were immediately to build thereon, and provide
accommodation at the earliest date for fifty small inmates, each of
whom was to be reared, educated, and finally launched in life with a
small dowry. The funds available would be more than sufficient for the
number of children named; and Mr. Barradine expressed the wish that
the number should not be increased if, as he hoped, the income of the
Trust grew bigger with the passage of time. He desired that extension
of revenue should be devoted to improving the comfort and amenities of
the fifty occupants, to increasing their dowries, and to assisting
them after they had gone out into the world.

Not only the _Rodhaven District Courier_, but great London journals
also, experienced difficulty in marshaling enough adjectives to convey
their sense of admiration for such a perfect scheme. Ever since his
death the local praise of Mr. Barradine's amiable qualities had been
taking richer colors, and now the will seemed so to sanctify his
memory that one felt he must be henceforth classed with the
traditional philanthropic heroes of England--those whose names grow
brighter through the centuries.

When on Sunday Mr. Norton took for his text those beautiful words,
"Suffer little children to come unto Me," all instantaneously guessed
what he was getting at, and by the time he finished there was scarcely
a dry eye that had not been wet at some point or other of an unusually
long sermon. "We have had," he said in conclusion, "a striking
instance of that noblest of all the feelings of the human breast,
tenderness and care for the weak and helpless; and without abrogating
the practise of our church which forbids us to pray for the souls of
those who have