"And yet," said Mary, "I have heard that Mrs Bishop was particularly gentle; one of whom no one need have been afraid."

"Yes, gentleness was a leading feature in her very beautiful character. So kind and courteous was her manner in conducting our meetings, that we all felt at liberty to express our opinions, and yet there was a something about her which forbade the slightest approach to frivolity, either in word or manner; had there been such, her look of calm displeasure would have instantly called the offender to order." "Your committees must have been very unlike those at the Rectory," observed Mary.

"Very, indeed, I should say from your report of one; and though it surprises me a good deal, I confess I should not expect to hear that Mr Jones was particularly successful as chairman of a ladies' committee."

"Why?" Mary asked.

"Because, as a general rule, I think we find people to be what we expect to find them.”

"I do not understand you, Miss Harrison."

"I mean to say, that when we have, as a modern writer has expressed it, 'put a label upon a person' as we would upon a jar, saying, 'This is rice-that is jelly,' we expect to find nothing else in the jar, and do not trouble ourselve to take off the cover and look within. And so, practically to us there is nothing else in it.”

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Oh, I understand you now," said Mary, laughing; "and Mr Jones has decidedly labelled all

women, with, as he told me himself, a few rare exceptions—' chatterers.'

"And in so doing I think he has made a great mistake," observed Miss Harrison; "indeed, I am sure of it."

"I am so glad to hear you say so," said Mary. "It made me almost angry to hear him say, the day I was present at a committee meeting, that he expected very little but trifling gossip from women in general.'

"You do not surely mean that he said so at the committee meeting."

"Oh, no; not quite so bad as that; but he said so to myself before the committee assembled."

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Well, you see, just as I said, what he expected to find, he did find."

"Indeed he did, and more than he expected, I rather think."

“If, on the contrary," continued Miss Harrison, "Mr Jones had regarded his committee in the light of rational beings-not as children, whom we allow to laugh and make a noise in and out of season, simply because their being children pleads their apology,—if he had so regarded them, he would probably have found, at least in some cases, a calmness, a self-possession of manner, and far less desire to talk upon irrelevant subjects at his committees ; in fact, his own manner in conducting the meeting would have ensured it. Besides, does he begin with prayer? Mrs Bishop always did. If Mr Jones does not, perhaps a good deal of what he finds so unsatis

factory may be accounted for by the omission. But, my dear Mary," Miss Harrison said, taking out her watch, "it is almost nine o'clock, and I promised your aunt that you should be home at that hour; so put on your bonnet, and Anne will walk home with you."

"Thank you very much," said wished Miss Harrison good-night.

Mary, as she

"It has been so pleasant to spend an evening with you, particularly this evening. It would have been sad to have no one to speak to about Alice."

"And I too have enjoyed our evening greatly,' Miss Harrison said, cordially. "Perhaps you may come again if Miss Waller finds you return home in time."

CHAPTER X.

THREE months have almost elapsed since Captain Mostyn wrote the letter already alluded to, and as day after day passed without the arrival of the expected answer, he became seriously uneasy lest either of the letters should have gone astray.

There seemed to be some mysterious connection between this looked-for letter and Mary Woods. An evening spent in her society at Elmsgrove, or an unexpected meeting with her on the road, was sure to be speedily followed by a visit to the post-office, to inquire whether the India mail had arrived; and more than one of the village shopkeepers had remarked that it was "odd for a seafaring man like the Captain to be so nervish about a ship being a little behind time.”

However, the letter did arrive one morning, just as Captain Mostyn was setting out for a walk with Mr Wright.

"Wait a moment," he said, as he rushed out of the room with the unopened letter in his hand. In a few moments he returned, his face radiant with joy. "I cannot walk with you to-day," he said, quickly; "I have business to attend to."

"Not unpleasant business either," thought Mr Wright, as he pursued his solitary walk. "If I am not mistaken, he's bent on storming Miss Waller's castle, but not to carry her off, poor old lady!"

Mr Wright was not mistaken. Captain Mostyn went direct to Miss Waller's, and having ascertained that Mary was at home, was shown into the drawing-room.

As conversation such as we suppose there took place is not intended for the public ear, we should not be true to nature were we to record it. But there is no reason why we should pretend not to see the happy smile which lighted up Captain Mostyn's face as he returned to his lodging an hour afterwards. We may also mention-for no one with half an eye could fail to observe it-that Mary appeared unusually excited at dinner. "Quite astray," as Phoebe confidentially told the cat when she returned to the kitchen. Twice she almost upset the salt, and when offered wine, held her plate for it. Miss Waller, too, spoke to her more than once without apparently being heard, and when, out of patience, she asked, "Are you deaf, Mary?" Mary did not seem the least frightened, but quietly answered, "No, aunt; I was thinking." As Phoebe pondered over all this at her leisure, she came to the conclusion that "for certain something was going to happen to the house, but what it could be, it wasn't for the likes of her to know.”

It was quite right, however, that the mistress of the house should know; so we shall learn all about