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lady has ordered the Magazine for me of the publishers,-all others have been written to. At the same time I wish to thank you very much for the insertion of my appeal to be supplied with your Magazine-it will be a great comfort to me. My want has also been supplied from Leicester.-Yours, &c., F. E.

[We must beg all those who have kindly offered to supply the invalid with the Churchman's Companion, and have not been privately answered, to accept now our best thanks.—ED. C. C.]

LODGINGS FOR FACTORY GIRLS.

The Sister-in-Charge, All Hallows' Mission House, 127, Union Street, Boro', acknowledges gratefully for the above: Mrs. Moore and friends, £6; Mrs. Hawkins' Working Party, 17s.; H., £l; Mrs. Parnell, £5; Miss Dyke, 12s. 6d. ; Mrs. Haynes, 5s.; Anon., 3s. 1d.; Mrs. Smith Masters, £5; Miss Blunt, 10s.; C. D., 2s. 6d.; S. B., 2s. 6d.; Anon., 2s. 6d.; Mrs. Lugg, 5s.; Anon., £5; Mr. Kennedy, £4. 4s.; Miss Humphreys, £1. A bedstead and bedding (address of sender lost.) Parcel of books. Mrs. Laycock, parcel of warm clothes.

For Children's Sunday Breakfasts, Soup, &c.: Rachel, 3s.; G. E. M., 2s.; Miss Neeve, £5; Three Servants, per Rev. J. W. Ayre, 15s.; C. M. M., 3s. 3d. ; A Friend, 2s.; Duncan and Willie, 1s. ; J. W. R., 6d.; Anon., 2s., 4s., 18.

BISHOP WILBERFORCE'S CONFIRMATION MEMORIAL WINDOW, NOW ERECTED IN S. MARY'S, SOUTHAMPTON.

Miss L. PHILLIMORE (5, Arlington Street, S. James's, S. W.) gratefully acknowledges for the above Memorial: Anon., (Cambridge), 2s. 6d.; Anon., (London), £8; Interest at Post Office, 12s. £426 received, only £39 now required. It is earnestly desired to discharge this small debt. Further offerings gladly received as above.

THE

Churchman's Companion.

PART III.]

FOURTH SERIES.

[MARCH, 1881.

KINGSWORTH; OR, THE AIM OF A LIFE.

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"Он, Emberance ! I am so glad to have a friend! I never have had any one to talk to, I have thought of you ever since the day I was confirmed. Oh, how I have wished that I could be confirmed every year!"

Katharine Kingsworth was standing in a little breakfast room in the canon's house at Fanchester. The grey towers of the cathedral with a background of trees just touched with the vivid tints of autumn, were visible through the window; but Katharine heeded nothing but Emberance, almost devouring her with her round brown eyes, and standing before her at a little distance like a kitten ready to spring. "It is very nice for cousins to be acquainted," said Emberance. "Oh, yes! and I have always been shut up by myself. You'll teach me all that other girls do, and we will be friends.”

And suddenly the kitten sprang, and throwing her arms round Emberance, hugged her, and kissed her with irresistible warmth.

All the kindliness of Emberance's nature awoke at the appeal, and all lurking sense of their relative positions yielded at the clasp of Katharine's hands, and then at the warm touch of her lips.

"I will love you, Katharine," she said, earnestly, "and friends we will be, I promise."

The words did not mean nearly so much after all, to Katharine who knew no reason to prevent their friendship, as to the speaker, but they

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were entirely satisfactory to her, and as she subsided on to the floor at Emberance's feet, she looked up at her and laughed joyfully.

She seemed so youthful a creature that Emberance felt as if she must go back to old methods of making acquaintance and begin, "How many lessons do you do?"—"Tell me something about yourself," she said, wishing to find out what Katharine knew of the family history.

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There's nothing to tell, I have lived all my life shut up at Applehurst. Uncle Kingsworth says mamma came away from Kingsworth because some very sad things happened there. I suppose it was my father dying so young, but that's a long while ago, and we can begin fresh."

Katharine," interposed Emberance who had been watching the street from the window, "here is my mother, she is coming to call on yours, let us go into the drawing-room."

"Oh yes, I should like to see a morning call. No one ever called but the Rector and old Miss Evesham, and I want to see Aunt Ellen too."

Emberance followed her as she jumped up and ran into the drawingroom, with considerably more anxiety as to the result of the interview, to which Mrs. James Kingsworth had worked herself up, with much doubt and disinclination.

There she stood in her best attire, greeting her sister-in-law with scrupulous politeness, while she was received with a careful courtesy that was anything but cordial.

In flew Katharine, her blooming face all smiles, right into her aunt's

arms.

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How d'ye do, Aunt Ellen? I'm so glad to see you. I'm so glad to have an aunt. Oh, thank you for letting me have Emberance to stay!" "I am sure, my dear, it will be a pleasure to Emberance," said the aunt, won over spite of herself and utterly taken by surprise, while the Canon's wife noted the contrast with the previous greeting of Emberance and Mrs. George Kingsworth, when the latter's scrupulous cordiality had had so evident a strain in it as to abash the girl altogether.

"We shall indeed feel bound to make your daughter's visit pleasant to her," she said. "I am yielding to Katharine's great wish in going to Kingsworth."

“Oh,” said Katharine, "so long as we came away from Applehurst, I don't think I much mind where we go to. Anything for a change."

The remark was made too eagerly to sound exactly flippant; but Emberance did think it sounded odd; and wondered what she should find in this vehement little creature when the first effervescence had subsided. Katharine's chatter carried off the difficulties of the visit however, and Mrs. James Kingsworth returned home with her distinct feelings of resentment somewhat confused.

A few days were passed at Fanchester, during which Katharine enjoyed the delights of buying herself some new clothes, and as she expressed it, "saw a party," as the Canon thought it well to give one and show the world his various relations sitting at the same dinner table.

He was a good deal perplexed by Katharine. Her unrestrained eagerness, and her self-absorption somewhat repelled him; while her affectionateness and merriment were pleasant. Everything seemed equally enchanting to her, and he suspected her of want of sense and discrimination, while her mother watched her with painful earnestness. Could self-sacrifice or high principle be expected from a girl who derived actual delight from finding herself with a pair of white kid gloves?

Emberance was a little overpowered by her, but she liked her, and better still, oddly enough, she liked the grave clear-eyed Aunt Mary, who looked so unjoyful, and behaved with such odd, cold graciousness towards herself. On the whole Katharine was sorry when the day came for their journey to Kingsworth, though the travelling charmed her. The Canon and his wife accompanied them, anxious to make the return as little painful as possible for Mrs. Kingsworth.

It was a wild wet evening, and as they drove from the station, the roaring of the sea grew louder and louder in their ears; Emberance caught glimpses of it covered with foam at intervals as the second carriage, in which the two girls were, wound up a steep road towards the house through the dusk of the evening.

Katharine peeped and exclaimed at each dim object that they passed, but even she fell silent, and Emberance felt an increasing excitement, as they drove up to the door of a substantial square-built house. In the open doorway stood Mrs. George Kingsworth, her black figure defined by the lights behind her. She put aside Katharine as the two girls ran up the steps, and taking Emberance by both hands gave her a sudden silent kiss, then drew back and let them pass in together. "Is this Kingsworth ?" cried the outspoken Kate.

isn't as pretty as Applehurst."

"Dear me, it

Indeed, Kingsworth had few attractions beyond the wide sea view

from its windows. It was perched upon the top of the cliffs, and what was really only a bit of enclosed down with a few The house had not been built by the Kingsworths

was called the park

stunted trees in it.

and was hardly important enough to rank as a "country place;" while the rooms were small, low, and old-fashioned. The buying of it back had been a piece of sentiment; which its intrinsic advantages hardly warranted. There was, however, part of a ruined tower on the edge of the cliff, called Kingsworth Castle, and to the old Canon the wild sweep of the wind, the dash of the waves on the rocks, and the cry of the sea birds had a charm which all the quiet of his Cathedral close could not rival. To him, Kingsworth was home, and now in old age his associations passed over the terrible tragedy that had broken that home to pieces, and went back to happy boyish days, when he had little thought to see his father's proudly regained possession, the property of a thoughtless girl.

To Mrs. Kingsworth the place had never been pleasant. All the unhappy doubts and disappointments of her married life and their terrible culmination, seemed borne back to her with every familiar sound and sight, till she wondered how she should ever bear her stay. The next morning rose bright and sunny after the rain, and the Canon asked the two girls if they would like to walk to the shore with him. Both agreed readily, Emberance with a certain trepidation, since she knew that somewhere among those wild rocks had occurred the mysterious tragedy which had left herself and Katharine fatherless. She had never realised the old story among her busy surroundings; but it came back upon her now with a strange vague sense of horror.

Katharine meanwhile tripped along the narrow path before them, sparkling with eagerness and chattering over every conceivable subject.

She was a pretty creature in her bloom and brightness, and to those better informed there was something pathetic in her unconsciousness.

Canon Kingsworth led them down to the shore, which, save for the promontory where Kingsworth stood, was bleak and uninteresting, stretching away in low chalky cliffs.

The "rocks" were of limestone, and insignificant in size and shape; but below them was a wide expanse of sand. The place had none of the grandeur often seen on the coast, and was impressive only from a certain wild dreariness, unfelt in the sparkling sunshine of the September morning. To Katharine it had all the charm of her first sea view,

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