sband. His face was pale and all astir with emotion.

"Jinny," he said, when at length she allowed him to speak--"Jinny,
_she_ saved me."

Jinny turned to Sally. "Eh, how can I ever thank you," she cried
brokenly. "You saved my 'usband arter all. I don't know how to thank
you."

Sally looked round with a fierce light in her eyes. "Ye needn't thank
me--I didn't save him for you."

"I'm sure," said John, in a voice husky with emotion, "I don't know
what to say mysel'--it is more than I could have expected, that you
should risk your life for my sake."

"'Twasn't for your sake neither then," said Sally still fiercely.

"Then, in the name of fortune! why did you do it?" he ejaculated.

"I did it--for mysel'," said Sally.

She turned away, the water dripping from her at every step, and
bounded up the slope with the erect carriage and springing gait which
John remembered of old.

The fisherman retired somewhat disconsolately, and husband and wife,
still palpitating, walked slowly away together; while "Golden Sally,"
once more standing aloft on her sandy pinnacle, wrung the moisture out
of her yellow hair.

"TH' OWDEST MEMBER"

Doctor Craddock rode slowly along the grassy track which led from
Thornleigh to Little Upton, and as he rode he smiled to himself.
Though he had been settled for more than a dozen years in this quiet
corner of Lancashire, his Southern mind had not yet become accustomed
to the idiosyncrasies of his North Country patients. He had just been
to see old Robert Wainwright, who was suffering from an acute attack
of gout in his right foot, and who was, in consequence, unapproachable
in every sense of the word, answering the Doctor's questions only by
an unintelligible growl or an impatient jerk of the head. Moreover, on
being informed that he must not expect to set foot to the ground for
several days more, he had emitted a kind of incredulous roar, and had
announced his opinion that his medical adviser was a gradely fool.
Poor Mrs. Wainwright had subsequently apologised for her lord's
shortness of temper, explaining in deprecating tones that he was apt
to be took that way sometimes; adding that he had been moiderin ever
sin' mornin' about Club Day.

"He reckons he's th' owdest member, ye know. Him an' Martin Tyrer, of
Little Upton, is mich of an age, an' they'n walked same number of
times--they're a bit jealous one o' th' t'other an' our Gaffer reckons
if he bides awhoam, owd Martin 'ull