en a stigma he did not deserve; and though
he might have spent a year with advantage in a theological college,
pupilage might only have prolonged his boyhood. It must be
experience, not simply years of study, that deepens him."

"Ah, those studies!"

"To tell the truth, that's what I am most uneasy about. I take care
he should have two hours every forenoon, and three evenings every
week, free; but when a man is in his own neighbourhood, and so
popular, I am afraid he does not get many evenings at home; and I
can't hinder Bindon from admonishing him."

"No," said the sister; "nothing will stir him till the examination
is imminent; but I will try what I can do with him for the present.
Here he comes, the dear old idle fellow!"

"Joanie, here you are at last, in conclave with the Rector. Lady
Rose wants me to sing, and you must accompany me. No one is so
jolly for picking one up."

'Picking one up' was apt to be needed by Herbert, who had a good ear
and voice, but had always regarded it as 'bosh' to cultivate them,
except for the immediately practical purposes that had of late been
forced on him. The choral society had improved him; but Jenny was
taken aback by being called on to accompany him in Mrs. Brown's
Luggage; and his father made his way up to him, saying, "Eh,
Herbert! is that the last clerical fashion?"

"'Tis my Rectoress who sets me on, sir," was Herbert's merry answer,
looking at her. "Now, Lady Rose, you'll keep me in countenance! My
father has never heard you sing Coming through the Rye."

"No, no, Herbert, my singing is only to amuse little boys. Here's
the higher order of art!"

For Cecil was leading a young lady to the piano, and looking as if
she by no means approved of such folly, though everybody had
listened to the Poor Old Cockatoo, laughed and applauded heartily;
and the ensuing performance seemed to be unappreciated by any one
except Raymond and Cecil themselves.

Anne was sitting in a corner of the sofa, with a straight back and
weary face, having been driven out into the throng by the old
friends who came to sit with Mrs. Poynsett; but she brightened as
Miss Bowater took a seat beside her, and accepted her inquiries for
Captain Charnock far more graciously than the many which had
preceded them. Was not her likeness in his album? And had he not
spoken of her as one whom Anne would like?

Soon Joanna had led her to tell not only of Miles's last letter, but
of those from Glen