of the young man from 'Omerton. Notwithstanding the dreadful pressure of her trouble, she felt that his excitement in the prospect of preaching to Arthur's people was quite ill-timed. What did it matter to him whether the Salem flock liked him or not? were they not Arthur's people, pre-engaged to their own pastor? The gentle widow did what she could to bring Mr Beecher down as they walked through Grove Street. She remarked, gently, that where a minister was very popular, a stranger had but little chance of appreciation. "You must not be mortified if you see the congregation look disappointed when you come into the pulpit," said Mrs Vincent; "for my son, if he had not been called away so suddenly, was to commence a course of lectures to-day, and I believe a good deal of expectation was raised about them." The new preacher was perhaps a shade less buoyant when he resigned his friend's mother to Tozer at the door of the chapel, to be conducted to her pew. Salem was already about half filled; and the entering flock looked at Mrs Vincent, as she stood with the deacon in the porch, asking, with the courtesy of a royal personage, humble yet affable, after his wife and daughter. Tozer was a little overawed by the politeness of the minister's mother. He concluded that she was 66 quite the lady" in his private heart.

"If you tell me where the minister's seat is, I need not trouble you to go in," said Mrs Vincent.

Mrs Tufton's uncommon punctual, and it's close upon her time," said Tozer; "being a single man, we've not set apart a seat for the minister-not till he's got some one as can sit in it; it's the old minister's seat, as is the only one we've set aside; for we've been a-letting of the pews uncommon this past month, and it don't answer to waste nothing in a chapel as is as expensive to keep up as Salem. It's our pride to give our minister a good salary, as you know, ma'am, and we've all got to pay up according; so

there ain't no pew set apart for Mr Vincent-not till he's got a wife."

"Then I am to sit in Mrs Tufton's pew?" said the minister's mother, not without a little sharpness.

"There ain't no more of them never at Salem but Mrs Tufton," said Tozer. "Mr Tufton has had a shock, and the only one of a family they've at home is a great invalid, and never was within the chapel door in my time. Mr Tufton he do come now and again. He would have been here to-day, I make bold to say, but for the minister being called away. I hope you've 'eard from Mr Vincent, ma'am, and as he'll soon be back. It ain't a good thing for a congregation when the pastor takes to going off sudden. Here she is a-coming. Mrs Tufton, ma'am, this is Mrs Vincent, the minister's mother; she's been waiting for you to go into your pew."

"I hope I shall not be in your way," said Mrs Vincent, with her dignified air. "I have always been accustomed to see a seat for the minister; but as I am a stranger, I hope for once I shall not be in your way."

"Don't say a word," cried Mrs Tufton. "I am as glad as possible to see Mr Vincent's mother. He is a precious young man. It's not a right principle, you know, but it's hard not to envy people that are so happy in their families; nothing would make my Tom take to the ministry, though his papa and I had set our hearts upon it; and he's in Australia, poor dear fellow; and my poor girl is such an invalid. I hope your daughter is pretty well? Come this way. I hope I shall see a great deal of you. Mr Tufton takes such an interest in his young brother; all that he wants is a little good advice that is what the minister always tells me. All that Mr Vincent wants, he says, is a little good advice.”

The latter part of this was communicated in a whisper, as the two ladies seated themselves in the minister's pew. After a momentary pause of private devotion, Mrs Tuf

ton again took up the strain where she had left it off.

"I assure you, we take the greatest interest in him at the cottage. He doesn't come to see us so often as Mr Tufton would wish, but I daresay he has other things to do. The minister often says to me, that he is a precious young man, is Mr Vincent, and that a little good advice and attention to those that know better, is all he wants to make him a shining light; and I am sure he will want no good advice Mr Tufton can give him. So you may keep your mind easy-you may keep your mind quite easy. In any difficulty that could occur, I am sure the minister would act as if he were his own son.'

"You are very kind; but I hope no difficulty will occur," said Mrs Vincent, with a little quiver in her lip.

"I hope not, indeed; but there are so many people to please in a flock," said the late minister's wife, with a sigh. "We always got on very well, for Mr Tufton is not one to take a deal of notice of any unpleasantness; but you know as well as I do that it takes a deal of attention to keep all matters straight. If you'll excuse me, it's a great pity Mr Vincent has gone away to-day. Nothing would have made my husband leave his post just as he was intimated to begin a course of lectures. It's very excusable in Mr Vincent, because he hasn't that experience that's necessary. I always say he's very excusable, being such a young man; and we have no doubt he'll get on very well if he does but take advice."

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'My son was very unwilling to go; but it was quite necessary. His sister," said Mrs Vincent, clasping her hands tight under her shawl to balance the pang in her heart, "was with some friends-whom we heard something unpleasant about-and he went to bring her home. I expect them-to-morrow."

The poor mother shut her lips close when she had said the words, to keep in the cry or sob that seemed bursting from them. Yes, God help

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her, she expected them; perhaps to-morrow perhaps that same dreadful night; but even in the height of her anguish, there occurred to Mrs Vincent a forlorn prayer that they might not come back that Sunday. Rather another agonising night than that all the chapel folks" should be aware that their pastor was rushing wildly along distant railways on the day of rest. The fact that he was doing so added a pang to her own trouble. Total disarrangement, chaos, all the old habitudes of life gone to wreck, and only desperation and misery left, was the sensation produced by that interruption of all religious use and wont. It came upon her with an acute sting, to think that her poor young minister was travelling that Sunday; just as in Arthur's own experience at that same moment, the utter incoherence, chaos, and wretchedness into which his life had suddenly fallen, breathed upon him in the sound of the church bells.

"Dear me, I am very sorry," said Mrs Tufton; "some fever or something, I suppose-something that's catching? Dear, dear me, I am so sorry! but there are some people that never take infection; a little camphor is such a nice thing to carry about, it can't do any harm, you know. Mrs Tozer tells me he is a very nice young man, Mr Vincent's friend from 'Omerton. I don't like to say such a thing of a girl, but I do believe your son could have that Phoebe any day for asking, Mrs Vincent. I can't bear forward girls for my part-that is her just going into the pew with the pink bonnet; oh, you know her!-to be sure Mrs Pigeon remarked you were sure to go there; though I should have hoped we would have seen you as soon as any one in Carlingford."

“Indeed, I have been much disappointed not to call. I-I hope I shall-to-morrow," said the widow, to whom to-morrow loomed dark like another world, and who could not help repeating over and over the dreaded name.

"That is Maria Pigeon all in white-to be only tradespeople they do dress more than I approve of," said Mrs Tufton. "My Adelaide, I am sure, never went like that; many people think Maria a deal nicer looking than Phoebe Tozer, but her mother is so particular-more than particular-what I call troublesome, you know. You can't turn round without giving her offence. Dear me, how my tongue is going! the minister would say I was just at my old imprudent tricks-but you, that were a minister's wife, can understand. She is such a difficult woman to deal with. I am sure Mr Tufton is always telling them to wait, and that Mr Vincent is a young man yet, and experience is all he wants. I wish he had a good wife to keep him straight; but I don't know that that would be advisable either, because of Phoebe and the rest. Dear, dear, it is a difficult thing to know what to do!-but Mr Tufton always says, If he had a little more experienceBless me, the young man is in the pulpit!" said Mrs Tufton, coming to a sudden standstill, growing very red, and picking up her hymnbook. Very seldom had the good woman such a chance of talk. She ran herself so out of breath that she could not join in that first hymn.

But Mrs Vincent, who had a sensation that the pew, and indeed the whole chapel, trembled with the trembling that was in her own frame, but who felt at the same time that everybody was looking at her, and that Arthur's credit was involved, stood up steadfastly, holding her book firm in both her hands, and with an effort almost too much for her, the heroism of a martyr, added her soft voice, touched with age, yet still melodious and true, to the song of praise. The words choked her as she uttered them, yet with a kind of desperate courage she kept on. Praise-it happened to be a very effusive hymn that day, an utter ance of unmitigated thanksgiving;

fortunately she had not sufficient command of her mind or wits to see clearly what she was singing, or to enter into the wonderful bitter difference between the thanks she was uttering and the position in which she stood. Could she give God thanks for Susan's ruin, or rejoice in the light He had given, when it revealed only misery? She was not called upon to answer that hard question. She stood up mechanically with her white face set in pale steadfastness, and was only aware that she was singing, keeping the tune, and making herself noways remarked among the crowd of strange people, many of whom turned curious eyes towards her. She stood with both her feet set firm on the floor, both her hands holding fast to the book, and over the ache of frightful suspense in her heart came the soft voice of her singing, which for once in her life meant nothing except a forlorn determination to keep up and hold herself erect and vigilant, sentinel over Arthur's fortunes and his people's thoughts.

Mr Beecher's sermon was undeniably clever; the Salem folks pricked up their ears at the sound of it, recalling as it did that period of delightful excitation when they were hearing candidates, and felt themselves the dispensers of patronage. That was over now, and they were wedded to one; but the bond of union between themselves and their pastor was far from being indissoluble, and they contemplated this new aspirant to their favour with feelings stimulated and piquant, as a not inconsolable husband, likely to become a widower, might contemplate the general female public, out of which candidates for the problematically vacant place might arise. Mrs Pigeon, who was the leader of the opposition, and whose daughter Mr Vincent had not distinguished, whose house he had not specially frequented, and whom, most of all, he had passed in the street without recognition, made a note of this man from

'Omerton. If the painful necessity of dismissing the present pastor should occur as such things did occur, deplorable though they were -it might be worth while sending for Mr Beecher. She made a note of him privately in her mind, as she sat listening with ostentatious attention, nodding her head now and then by way of assent to his statements. Mrs Vincent remarked her as she watched the congregation from the minister's pew, with her jealous mother's eyes. The Tozers were not so devoted in their listening. Mrs Tozer's brilliant cherrycoloured bonnet visibly drooped once or twice with a blessed irregularity of motion; all these signs Mrs Vincent perceived as she sat in preternatural acute consciousness of everything round her, by Mrs Tufton's side. She was even aware that the sermon was clever; she remembered expressions in it long after, which somehow got burned in, without any will of hers, upon her breaking heart. The subdued anguish that was in her collected fuel for its own silent consuming fire, even in the congregation of Salem, where, very upright, very watchful, afraid to relax her strained nerves even by leaning back or forward, she lived through the long service as if through a year of suffering.

The congregation dispersed in a buzz of talk and curiosity. Everybody waited to know where the minister had gone, and what had taken him away. "I can't say as I think he's using of us well," said somebody, whom Mrs Vincent could hear as she made her way to the door. "Business of his own! a minister ain't got no right to have business of his own, leastways on Sundays. Preaching's his business. I don't hold with that notion. He's in our employ, and we pays him well

Here a whisper from some charitable bystander directed the speaker's eyes to Mrs Vincent, who was close behind.

"Well! it ain't nothing to me who hears me," said this rebellious

member, not without a certain vulgar pleasure in his power of insult. "We pays him well, as I say; I have to stick to my business well or ill, and I don't see no reason why the minister should be different; if he don't mind us as pays him, why, another will."

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Oh, I've been waiting to catch your eye," said Mrs Pigeon, darting forward at this crisis to Mrs Tufton ; wasn't that a sweet sermon? that's refreshing, that is! I haven't listened to anything as roused me up like that, no, not since dear Mr Tufton came first to Carlingford; as for what we've been hearing of late, I don't say it's not clever, but, oh, it's cold! and for them as like good gospel preaching and rousing up, I must confess as Mr Vincent

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"Hush! Mrs Pigeon-Mrs Vincent," said Mrs Tufton, hurriedly; you two ladies should have been introduced at the first. Mr Pigeon is one of our deacons and leading men, Mrs Vincent, and I don't doubt you've often and often heard your son talking of him. We are always discussing Mr Vincent, because he is our own pastor now, you know; and a precious young man he is—and all that he wants is a little experience, as Mr Tufton always says."

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Oh, I am sorry!-I beg your pardon, I'm sure," cried Mrs Pigeon; "but I am one as always speaks my mind, and don't go back of my word. Folks as sees a deal of the minister," continued the poulterer's wife, not without a glance at that cherry-coloured bonnet which had nodded during the sermon, and to which poor Mrs Vincent felt a certain gratitude, may know different; but me as don't have much chance, except in chapel, I will say, as I think he wants speaking to; most folks do specially young folks, when they're making a start in the world. He's too high, he is, for us plain Salem folks; what we want is a man as preaches gospel sermons-real rousing-up discourses and sits down pleasant to his tea,

and makes hisself friendly. I never was one as thought a minister couldn't do wrong. I always said as they were just like other men, liking grand dinners and grand folks, and the vanities of this world; -not meaning no offence, Mrs Vincent, neither to you nor the minister-but I must say as I think, he's a deal too high."

"My son has had very good training," said the widow, not without dignity. "His dear father had many good friends who have taken an interest in him. He has always been accustomed to good society and I must say, at the same time,' added Mrs Vincent," that I never knew Arthur to fail in courtesy to the poorer brethren. If he has done so, I am sure it has been unintentionally. It is quite against my principles and his dear father's to show any respect to persons. If he has shown any neglect of Mrs Pigeon's family," continued the mild diplomatist, "it must have been because he thought them less, and not more, in need of him than the rest of the flock."

Mrs Pigeon listened with open mouth, but total discomfiture: whether this was a compliment or a reprimand was totally beyond her power to make out. She cried, "Oh, I'm sure!" in a tone which was half defensive and half deprecating. Mrs Pigeon, however, intended nothing less than to terminate the conversation at this interesting point, and it was with utter dismay that she perceived Mrs Vincent sweep past before she had recovered herself -sweep past-though that black silk gown was of very moderate dimensions, and the trim little figure was noways majestic. The minister's mother made a curtsy to the astonished wife of the poulterer; she said "good-morning" with a gracious bow, and went upon her way before Mrs Pigeon had recovered her breath. Perfect victory attended the gentle widow in this little passage of arms. Her assailant fell back, repeating in a subdued tone, "Well, I'm sure!" Mrs

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Pigeon, like Tozer, granted that the minister's mother was quite the lady," henceforward, in her heart.

And Mrs Vincent passed on victorious; yes, victorious, and conscious of her victory, though giddy with secret anguish, and feeling as if every obstacle that hindered her return was a conscious cruelty. They could not have arrived this morning

it was impossible; yet she burned to get back to see whether impossibility might not be accomplished for once, and Susan be there awaiting her. The first to detain her was Mrs Tufton, who hurried, with added respect, after her, triumphing secretly in Mrs Pigeon's defeat.

"I am so glad you gave her her answer," said Mrs Tufton; "bless me, how pleased Adelaide will be when I tell her! I always said it would be well for a minister's wife to have a spirit. Won't you come and take a bit of dinner with us,.as Mr Vincent is not at home? Oh, I daresay somebody will ask Mr Beecher. It does not do to pay too much attention to the young men that come to preach-though I think he was clever. You won't come?a headache?-poor dear! You're worrying about your daughter, I am sure; but I wouldn't, if I were you. Young girls in health don't take infection. She'll come back all right, you'll see. Well-good-bye. Don't come in the evening if you have a headache. I shouldn't, if I were you. Good-bye-and to-morrow, if all is well, we'll look for you. Shiloh Cottage-just a little way past Salem-you can't miss the way."

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Yes, thank you- to-morrow," said Mrs Vincent. If only anybody could have known what dreadful work it was keeping up that smile, holding upright as she did! Then she went on a little way in peace, half-crazed with the misery that consumed her, yet unnaturally vigilant and on the alert, always holding up Arthur's standard at that critical hour when he had no representative but herself in his field of battle. But the poor mother was not long allowed this interval