mination in bestowing her hand on the
most eligible Charnock, an M.P., and just a step above her father in
rank and influence.

Her step-mother was under orders to spend the winter in Italy and
the wedding had therefore taken place in Venice, so that Cecil might
finish her journey as a wife. She had been very happy and fully
occupied; Raymond, being younger and stronger than her parents, was
more competent to escort her to every height or depth to which she
wished to go, hunted up information for her, and was her most
obedient servant, only resisting any prolongation of the journey
beyond the legitimate four weeks; nor indeed had Cecil been desirous
of deferring her introduction to her new sphere.

There she stood, her hair and pretty Parisian winter dress arranged
to perfection, contemplating with approval the sitting-room that had
been appropriated to her, the October sunshine lighting up the many-
tinted trees around the smooth-shaven dewy lawn, and a bright fire
on the hearth, shelves and chiffoniers awaiting her property, and
piles of parcels, suggestive of wedding presents, awaiting her hand.
She was standing at the table, turning out her travelling-bag with
the comfortable sensation that it was not to be immediately re-
packed, and had just disinterred a whole library of note-books, when
her husband opened the door. "I believe Jenkins is waiting for your
appearance to bring in the urn, my dear."

"I'm coming; but surely there ought to be a bell or gong to assemble
the family."

"It might disturb my mother. What sleep she gets is in the morning.
I never go to her till eleven o'clock, unless I am going out for the
day."

"And what will she want me to do for her?" asked Cecil, glancing at
her empty shelves.

"A woman's tact will soon find out. All I wish is that she should
be your first object."

It was a much larger _all_ than could be realized by the son whose
happiest moments had been spent in devotion to her, and who thought
the motherless girl must rejoice doubly in such a mother.

"But I am free till eleven," said Cecil.

"Free always, I hope," he returned, with a shade of vexation.
Therewith they descended the broad stairs into the panelled hall,
where a great fire was blazing on the hearth, and Rosamond and the
two young brothers were standing chatting merrily before it.

Julius, she said, had his primary sermon heavy on his mind, and had
risen before day to attack it; and she sped away to