off.

Old Dutton took the hint, and hobbled | to signify that his allusion was meant for Mrs. Lee. Philip again urged the expediency of "I wish she was not so disagreeable," writing to his mother; and then, crowding said Margot dolefully. "Philip loves ber into the last few moments despair at very much, because she is his mother; but leaving, entreaties that Margot would as for me, how can I love her when she is always love him, prayers for her safety, always saying rude, cross things to me, and promises of constancy, he summoned up scolding me for doing this and going here all his resolution, and, without a word to or there, and telling me I must leave off old Dutton, or a look at the sobbing girl, my French ways? My French ways are who had flung herself down on the settle as good as her English ways, and," added at the door, Philip Lee hastened back to the girl, firing up indignantly, "my own the place he was to start from, leaving her mother taught them to me, and I will grandfather to administer to Margot all never leave them off to please Mrs. Lee the comfort he could think of. or anybody."

66

"Cheer up, my flower," said the old man presently, or Fhil 'll be back before you get your bright eyes dry. Why, bless ye, child, I call his a pleasure trip, not a voyage."

"Ah, yes! but it is the feeling I have at my heart, as if we should never meet again." And Margot's tears began to flow faster than ever.

CHAPTER III.

AND now about these French ways. What were they, and what was there about Margot so completely to raise Mrs. Lee's hatred and disgust? The girl was goodtempered, merry, and kind-hearted. No one could breathe a word against her; and the worst that the most ill-natured person could say was, that she was too free in her manner. In Redneap, after the house-work was done, the women sat at

"Now never you pay heed to nothing o' that sort," said he, giving a significant shake of his head; "for I s'pose I never parted with my poor Sally, as was your home busy with their needles, while the grandmother, but I felt about as miserable as a gibcat, barring the last time, when I went off as gay as a recruiting sergeant. And how was it when I got home agen? Why, she was lying in the churchyard, cut off in a week by her leg, poor soul. Ah! her end was for all the world like 6 Betsy Bowden

Who would ha' lived longer, but her cowden.
Not she's age;

men gathered in knots about the beach, laughing and joking with each other, and discussing any topic that might be interesting to them. From such groups Margot had never been accustomed to absent herself. At Honfleur, after the toil of the day was over, Madame Dutton and the other women took their work, and joining the men entered into their mirth, gave their opinions, and freely handled all subjects publicly advanced. Their tongues flew as

(for your grandmother was only fifty-two) fast as their fingers; and when darkness

nor she's decay:

stole over them, some one would sing a song, and the rest joining in chorus, they would (there warn't a spryer woman in all Red- stroll home together, and separate with neap)

'But she's bad leg car'd she away.' And so it was; for if it hadn't bin for that, why she'd be livin' now, and here to comfort and cheer you up, lovey, ever so much better than an old feller like me can." And he gently stroked Margot's glossy hair with his horny hand.

"That I'm sure she nor nobody else could," said the girl, trying to rouse herself; "and I am not going to cry any more, grandfather, but think of the time when Philip shall have come back to us. Oh! all I ask in the world is to have you two with me always, and then

"A fig for Madame Uppercrust," said the old man, interpreting Margot's shrug, and jerking his head towards the village, VOL. XXIII. 1092

LIVING AGE.

cheerful hearts and kindly adieux.

Naturally, Margot saw no reason why she should alter the habit which was familiar to her. Most of the beach idlers were her friends, and she found them all ready to laugh and gossip with the pretty French girl, whose light-hearted vivacity and piquant sayings contrasted somewhat favourably with the stolid bearing, and the stories of domestic incidents and difficulties which formed the staple of the conversation of the well-trained women of Red neap. Margot very much preferred the men to the women; for she had heard her mother say, that in England women were afraid to open their mouths, and were so stiff and distant that they froze you: and certainly she had found them so. Ah, yes! if it were not for the sea, and the

beach, and Philip, Redneap wonld be a Philip would laugh at his mother's predull place indeed -no merry-makings, no judice against everything relating to the fête days such as she recalled when, with place and people to whom Margot, in spite her mother and their neighbours, she went of her English father, seemed so entirely to some gay dance; or if it were summer- to belong. Still, in his heart, he could not time, walked to one of the village or- help being vexed; and the next time he chards, and under the spreading trees, and Margot met he would ask her resipped cider or orgeat, the men smoking proachfully why, for his sake, she did not while she- -on account of her singing be- try and get on better with his mother? ing thought, for a young girl, wonderful- And, because the girl's delicacy prevented trolled out, without any baehfulness, "Le her telling him her real opinion of Mrs. Beau Galant," "Les Compagnons de la Lee, Philip would sorrowfully interpret Marjolaine," or any other country song | her silence into a sullen feeling against the popular among them. But how her moth- one person it was her duty, as his affier's face would beam with pleasure when anced wife, to try to love. Pierre Berthal, Auguste Rénol, Père Gaul- Mrs. Lee had no positive intention of tier, or any of the good judges, declared conveying her instructions to Margot in that in Paris her voice would make her an offensive manner; neither had she the fortune! Ah! it was not of much use to slightest notion how much she irritated her now, except to amuse her old grand- the girl by her openly-expressed contempt father, and get him away from Craft's of everything foreign, and her scantilywhen he was inclined to take a glass more disguised doubt that any woman, save an than was good for him. Philip did not English one "and not many o' them care for singing, and always looked fidgety neither " - could teach a girl aught worth and weary if she volunteered, or was knowing. This slur upon her mother's asked for a song when there were more teaching roused all Margot's spirit, and listeners than himself and her grand- it usually happened that Mrs. Lee and she father.

To tell the truth, Philip would have willingly seen Margot conform more entirely to the ways of the other women of the place; not on his own account for in his eyes she was perfect but naturally he wanted his mother to think well of her, and apparently, as long as she lacked a certain amount of demureness, and did not take kindly to needlework and chapelteas, Mrs. Lee utterly refused to have anything to say to her.

"I haven't given her up without a trial, Philip," the widow would retort, "so you can't throw up that agen me. When first she came here I took her by the hand, and would have taught her what 'tis proper, in my opinion, a respectable young woman should know; but she seemed to think she had no need of telling, and I was always met with Mother liked me to do this,' or, 'her way was that,' so, of course, I said no more."

Mrs. Lee was not the only enemy poor Margot had in Redneap, where very few of the women took cordially to a girl who engrossed such an undue amount of attention and admiration from the men of the place. Accordingly, a war of words often waged about the unconscious Margot, who had no idea how her actions were censured, or how bravely her champions battled to prove that "her ways were only the result of light heartedness; and that she was quite as particular and correct in her behaviour as the prim moralists who could see no good in cheerfulness, and no merit in being contented with a lot in life which most young girls would have bemoaned as dull and hard. To use her grandfather's words, the inmates of Shingle Cottage knew "Ah!" Mrs. Lee would reply, with a many a banyan day for with all his induscontemptuous snort, "religious! I don't try the old man could earn but little; and, think much o' such a religion as hers; but much of the work he managed to accomla!" she would add complacently, "what plish must have remained undone, had not can ye expect of folks whose talk is Margot lent her young strength to aid the gibberish, and their victuals frogs and poor limbs, which grew stiffer and stiffer snails!"

"Well! 'tis but natural she should set store by her mother's ways," Philip would answer. "She was a good, kind-hearted woman, was Madame Dutton, and a religious woman too."

every winter. Then the mending and

"I suppose it's her pretty face makes her so sought after," said Annie, to whom these confidences were being imparted. "It's a wonderful thing to have good looks," she added in a dolesome tone.

making of the nets all fell to the girl's as Mary Jane looked. Not," added the
share. Her grandfather would often boast, widow, "that I hold by one in Mr. Chene-
that in or about a boat she was as handy vix's station making free with a girl in
as any man living; although even he little Margot's walk o' life."
knew how much of the labour accredited
to himself had been the work of the girl,
whom Mrs. Lee and her fellow-matrons
called "an idle gadder, always to be seen
giggling and gostering among a parcel o'
men, without a bit o' bonnet on her head,
and her brass eardrops jangling and tink-
ling like a merry-andrer's.' For in dress,
asign conduct, Margot managed to give
great offence to the village. Love of her
country, and perhaps a little tinge of vain
consciousness that no other costume would
be so becoming, made Margot refuse to
adopt the prevailing fashions of Redneap.
All in vain was it for each and every one
of the mentors to attack her on this point;
she staunchly maintained that no other
kind of dress could be so useful, comforta-
ble, and economical.

"Ah! well, suppose that she did not wear a bonnet, she wore a cap instead."

"But," as the village conclave unanimously declared, "a cap's a cap, and a bonnet's a bonnet; and, therefore, wearing o' one has nothing to do with leaving off o' the other. 'Tis both unbecoming and indecent for a young girl to want to make herself partikler, not to say, anything of her setting up her opinion against them as was old enough to be her mother."

"I suppose the gentry like it," said Annie Turle, who was present during one of the sharpest of these discussions. "For young Mr. Chenevix was at our house speaking with father about his tackle, when Margot happened to pass, and he said he wished all the village-girls wore the dress she did. As I told him, 'twould be a poor job for me if I had to be one o' them."

"And I'm glad that you did, Annie," replied Mrs. Lee; "'twas sickening to see the airs that girl gave herself at the last rectory treat, all along o' young Mr. Chenevix and Mr. Arthur a taking such notice of her."

"I should be very sorry," put in Mrs. Curtis, "to see a child o' mine a-going on so with gentlefolks."

Mrs. Lee concurred in this assertion at the time, though she afterwards remarked, "there was no fear of their doing so; for, of all the saffern-face maidens I ever saw, Mary Jane Curtis beats 'em; and why her mother is so blind to it as to dress her out in that rory-tory gown is more than I can tell. Why, when she entered the room, the ladies was quite in a titter; as well they might be, to witness such an object

"Well, Annie you've no cause to complain, I'm sure; if you're not what you may call handsome, you've a fresh colour and a good wholesome skin o' your own, and I don't know what a girl wants more than that."

Poor Annie thought she wanted a good deal more. She wanted Margot's bright eyes and glossy hair, and every feature which charmed away Philip's love from her.

Philip and Annie had been brought up together from children; they were nearly of one age, and had called each other sweethearts at a period when that had meant an exchange of valentines, and a bag of fairing from Luton. Annie was a quiet undemonstrative girl, possessed of all the qualities to make a man's home happy; and, if there had been no Margot, doubtless Philip would have found but little difficulty in returning the love which Annie strove vainly to withhold from him. With a different bringing up, the girl would have been much more attractive than she was; but, from always living among and associating with elderly people, she seemed to have become one of them, and entirely lacked the charm of youthfulness, which in Margot was so captivating. Mr. Turle's maxim, and the one which he had striven to instil into his daughter's mind, was, "Do what you can for others without hurting yourself;" and though Annie did not strictly regard the injunction, its influence robbed her of all impulse, and prevented the generosity of action to which her unbiassed nature would have often prompted her. Owing to Mrs. Lee's liking for her, she was, regarded in the village as a pattern of propriety and industry; and, accordingly, had to pay for this distinction by being covertly disliked by the very mothers who held her up as an example to their daughters, who, in turn, declared to each other that she was a regular old maid, and they "wouldn't be like her for anything."

Annie painfully and instinctively felt her unpopularity; she saw elbows nudged as she drew near, for the conversation to be changed; she knew that she was accused of repeating to Mrs. Lee and the

minister any small impropriety needing which made her select Annie Turle as her correction and reproof; and there was future daughter-in-law. No-she liked little doubt but that the girls she would her; she considered her to be possessed have willingly chatted with, were usually of good sense, industry, and steadiness; more pleased to see her back than her and, altogether, regarded her as the best face. Margot little knew, and her detrac- counterpart of herself to be found in the tors would never have believed, how prim village. Surely this was the highest guarlittle Annie often sat, watching her rival's antee a son so devoted as Phillip Lee ready laugh and coquettish graces, feeling should have needed; and the widow, who she would give all she possessed, or was had been accustomed during all her boy's likely to possess, if she could so answer lifetime to rule and decide for him, did not Philip, and with like pretty coyness accept feel inclined to give up the reins when he or refuse his eager attentions. She had was making the most important choice of plenty to say to Mrs. Lee, Mrs. Davis, or his life. Men, she argued, were always the minister's wife; but let Philip come in, contrary to their mothers about sweetor set her down with young people of her hearting, and she did believe it was nothown age, and her powers of conversation ing but that which made Philip so kinky utterly failed her, for the reason that they about Annie Turle. Anyways, she knew and she seemed to have nothing in com- what was best for him, and nobody would mon. Poor Annie! none knew how dearly thank her more than he would if she could she paid for the proprieties, with which the manage to bring the two together. What zeal of her several partisans had hedged a thing it would be for Philip to slip into her in. For her life, she dared not have old Turle's shoes right off! for any man worn a smart bow or gay ribbon was it who took Annie would be certain to have not the boast of her friends that you never the business, and when he looked round, saw Annie Turle in such finery? Though and felt himself master of the building her heart was often inclined to join in some yard, and able to stay at home and be of the few merry-makings at Redneap or comfortable, heart alive! what a ninny he its surrounding villages, such an idea could would think he was to have spent his time not be entertained for an instant. So in dangling after that "fly-by-night " Marwhile, of these two girls who engrossed got, a girl as far beneath him as any one the lion's share of village gossip, Margot in Redneap! It was all very fine to talk suffered from always doing wrong, Annie of what they had been, but all the world underwent quite as much torment from knew that now old Dutton and his grandnever doing anything but what was right, daughter too were glad enough to turn and was as weary of praise as Margot was their hands to anything. Why, no longer indifferent to blame. Annie thought, that than a week ago, she met Margot going if she could but secure Philip, she would down the village with a bundle at her certainly throw off this bondage of good back, for all the world like a tramp or a opinion, and dress smartly, and go to the packman. Then there was the making of acting and singing at Luton Fair, or any-them shell-boxes and nets-it wasn't thing else Philip liked to take her to. She work for a woman. How had she done? wouldn't then be led by Mrs. Lee or Mrs. Anybody-else; and if they did not like it, well she should be independent, and, as long as she pleased Philip, she should not care. Margot on the other hand, often told herself that when she became Philip's wife, she would try and do all she could to make his mother like her; and if going to Luton Fair or Hagley revels vexed her, why she would stay away. Should she not have Philip? - and to please him, ah! she could give up anything. She hated those ugly big bonnets and drab-coloured gowns; but what mattered it if, by wearing them, Philip loved her the more for trying to please his mother?

She had been left alone, with nobody to turn to for a cup of cold water even, and two mouths to fill the same as theirs were; but nobody could say she ever lowered herself-she took in plain work and dressmaking, and many a long night had she stitched away that she should look and do as others did. Yes, thank God! she had kept herself and her son, so that they could hold up their heads before anybody in the place, and she wasn't going to be dragged down now by folks with whom they had neither kith nor kin. The Turles were a respectable family, and Annie was a girl than whom, had she picked the world over, she couldn't have found one nicer or better thought of; and when added to this there was a comfortably furTo do Mrs. Lee justice, it was not en-nished home and a tidy bit of money, why tirely the prospect of the girl's fortune what more could any sensible man ask for?

CHAPTER IV.

T

7

These thoughts occupied Mrs. Lee's more anxious than me to see my Philip mind as she took out her warm gown and settled with a nice comfortable wife; but comfortable cloak, and arrayed herself these young folks nowadays have so many preparatory to setting off for the Turles' pros and cons, and are so partickler." house; where, in accordance with an invi- "Oh! there was they as was ekally partation from Annie, she was going to drink tickler when I was a gal," interupted Aunt tea in company with Miss Bateson, an aunt Maria, drawing herself up. "For though from whom Annie had considerable expec- I've never got married myself, I don't tations. This lady was very well off, sin- suppose I need for to say the reason gle, and had for the last five-and-twenty wasn't because I was never asked by noyears suffered from some mysterious com- body." plaint, which she proudly boasted “ was "Why no, aunt, we've all heard tell more than any o' the doctors could make about your lovers," said Annie, laughing, out." "but nobody ever heard o' mine."

"Now hold your tongue, Annie,” and the widow shook her head reprovingly. 'My mouth's closed, you know, or I might say a good deal more than I do."

The winter had set in cold and stormy, and the cheerful fire blazing in the Turles' room made the house look to the widow" more than usually cheerful; the other guests had arrived before her, and, the greetings over, the party were soon seated before a very elaborate tea, which drew down many commendations of praise on Annie, both as a cook and housekeeper.

66

Annie's colour came, and her aunt divining the cause, said, "How's Philip, Mrs. Lee? He's a great favourite o' mine, you know, which is saying a good deal, for there isn't many o' the Redneapers I should care to see hanging up their hats in this house."

Folks often laugh at me," said the widow, “and doubt that I am over partial about Annie, but, as I say, show me her "I'm sure, Miss Bateson, 'tis very kind ditto in Redneap, and I'll hold my tongue."o' you to speak in that way, and so I take "That's very true, Mrs. Lee," responded it," replied Mrs. Lee with a delighted face. Aunt Maria, "for, I'm sorry to say, many o' the gals is so flighty and empty-headed as makes you wonder at their parents for not bringing them up different. I hear you had young Mr. Horan here on Sunday, Annie," she continued, turning to her niece. "How do you like him out o' the pulpit ? "

66

Very much indeed," answered Annie. "Father is uncommonly taken with him, and got him to promise to come over to the tea next month. "

66

"La! aunt, how ever can ye?" said
Annie, blushing scarlet at the insinuation
conveyed in the sly movement. Any-
body feels as if they could always make
more free with the minister; don't they,
Mrs. Lee?"

"Well, so it is supposed," answered the
widow dubiously; "but human nature is
but human nature still, and. I have a
thought, that for a preacher of the Gospel,
Mr. Horan is full free with the maidens."
"Oh! la, nonsense!" exclaimed Aunt
Maria. 66
Why shouldn't he take notice
of any nice gal he thinks might prove suit-
able to him? for, after all's said and done,
a single life is a terrible lonesome one."

Well, you only say the truth, Miss
Bateson, and by reason of it, nobody's

"It's very gratifying to a mother to hear her son well spoken of, not that too much can be said o' my boy, than whom better never stepped in shoe-leather; and you've heard that he's gone to Ameriky on a very nice trip too, and one, I trust, that will turn out so as to make him independent. He's been gone-why, how long is it, Annie? Ah, surely! over three months; and when he comes back," she added, nodding significantly to Aunt Maria, why then we shall see what we shall see; but, mind, nothing that will surprise me at all, nor you neither I expect, for folks as keep their mouths shut ha' most times got their eyes open, and in that respect, as in many others, I'm pleased to see Annie's Ler mother's child all over."

66

This delicate tribute to her family made Miss Bateson more gracious than before, and, to poor Annie's great confusion, she said, "Why or wherefore I can't say, but somehow I have always looked upon Philip and Annie as cut out for one another; and by that token I never paid no heed to the talk that went on about old Dutton's grand-daughter, and now I hear she's took up with that lazy good-for-nothing Dick Barry."

"Dick Barry!" ejaculated Mrs. Lee, breathless with astonishment and delight. "You don't mean to tell me so? Why, Miss Bateson, where ever did ye hear that? Well, I never did! Now, Annie, haven't I