they hear of crimes, say in their hearts, "But for the grace of God, there goes John Bradley." Or, if they be so innocent that no conscious understanding of that sin and misery is possessed by them, then that charity which is God's own gift gives them the spirit of sympathy and pity. And there are some who, when they hear of crimes, say only that they are thankful not to be as others. These, too, must be all innocent, or fenced round by that happy obtuseness, given either by disposition or by a limited circle of events.

Perhaps Georgy was not guilty above others: perhaps she would have shrunk from the faintest fulfilment of that underthought of hers: but it was there. Happiness in this world meant but one thing for her, and that was the only way in which it would ever be gained. You had better give up the thought of happiness; you will not find it, any more than others have done, here. If you do not leave the strife, then your deep passionate nature will know a fearful struggle, and you will find not happiness, but misery above that of others.

CHAPTER X.

TIME had brought an unpleasant change to Mrs. Erskine and her son, for they were both considerably poorer than formerly. Mrs. Erskine's eldest son had engaged himself, and persuaded his mother to involve herself, in railroad speculations, which had ended by causing them a considerable loss; and before this had happened, James, too, had engaged himself for his mother, and in the desire to help the other two, had suffered along with them. He was working very hard now, and Mrs. Erskine was about to sell Monklands. If it were possible that with her one day could better others' love, then she loved James better than before, and most deeply did she lament the loss which his kind-heartedness had brought upon him.

One morning Aunt Jane and her niece, who were for a few days in the neighbourhood, performed the periodical observance of a morning call at Millthorpe Grange; and after a good deal of conversation had passed, and luncheon was ended, Mrs. Lewis and

Georgy walked into the garden, leaving Aunt Jane still talking in the drawing-room.

"Georgy, you look as sober as if you had the world upon your shoulders, or were, at the least, engaged to be married."

Georgy burst out, "Well! so I am-to Captain Anstruther-do you know him?"

66 But, my dear girl, this must have been for ever so long; how shabby of you not to tell me!"

Georgy's face told so much that Mrs. Lewis said, gravely, "Tell me now, dear."

"For ever so long, as you say; for nearly three years. I never could bring myself to make formal mention of it; and yet that was very foolish of me: I had better have declared it at once."

"I am glad to hear this, Georgy; you will really have a comfortable home, I hope; and you will do very well, when it is once over, though you perhaps do not think so now."

"That is easier to preach than to feel," said Georgy, laughing nervously. "I wish! oh! I wish that I had married three years ago; but I cannot say that I wish to do so now."

Mrs. Lewis did not preach or moralize, but she felt kindly towards Georgy, and set herself quietly to demonstrate that marriage was the best thing for her.

"What do you mean to do, my dear? You are

more inclined to break stones on the road, perhaps ; but as your uncle would not permit that, you must break with him first. You do not suppose that he would countenance your going out as a governess; which to you would be the meaning of breaking stones on the road: what shall you do? Living at Grainthorpe cannot be pleasant."

"Mrs. Lewis, I cannot dispute your wisdom, but I have no vocation for matrimony: I wish I had been married long ago."

"You are right there; a woman should be married before she knows good from evil: what is distasteful at eighteen is still harder to swallow a few years later," she answered, sarcastically.

"But I would not speak so of Captain Anstruther, whom I have such real regard for, only"

"I understand you perfectly," said Mrs. Lewis, who thought that as Georgy would certainly marry Captain Anstruther, it was wrong to speak disparagingly of him. "I am only speaking generally. I remember meeting Captain Anstruther; I thought him very, very amiable: he certainly looked it."

66

66

Very," echoed Georgy; glad to find a very she could conscientiously join in.

"

This cool classification of husbands under the head of necessary evils, rather grated against her; for, like many of us, she disliked that the ideas which

she often indulged in should be reduced to a form of words.

"Georgy," said Mrs. Lewis again, when their colloquy was ended, "you should make up your mind, and not get frightened-no one can judge for another, but I think that you will be happier when married."

And so their talk was over; and it had exactly the contrary effect upon Georgy from that which was intended.

The idea of "making up her mind" frightened her, and she began to feel that it was impossible: even that mournful alternative of remaining at Grainthorpe was preferable.

She had often contemplated marriage—marriage at any price, as a deliverance from Grainthorpe, but now she shrank from the possibility of the realization of any such imaginings. Then she began to consider "Why should she throw up the battle of life, and say inwardly that no good thing could befall her? She would not marry Stephen, and must say so without delay"—and for some days she nerved herself for an outbreak. "If they were very angry, well—she would go to her great aunt and live there; and if she were penniless, well—teach music." And so she played nearly a whole day, and began a dream of musical life amongst artists (if only a music-mistress could ever realize it). She