"Ay," said Mr Arom, "the harvest, I am told, is uncommon good, and trade is not to say bad; let us be thankful."

They had by this time moved to the shady spot where Mr Parkins's supper-table stood, and where indeed Mr Parkins's helpmate stood also; for Mrs Parkins had herself brought out her husband's meal, and was setting it in order. When she caught sight of her visitor she turned to greet him with a beaming look, and ready words of welcome.

"Mr Arom, is it? Well! I was fearing you were never coming to see us again. And you've walked up in all this heat too. How very kind! Sit down and rest, sir. Mr Parkins is just going to take his supper, and you'll be good enough to join him, I'm sure. He doesn't often get a friend to talk with after his work is done, poor man."

"Well, I don't know, ma'am; I think Mr Parkins is to be envied for the companion he's most always got to talk with." Mr Arom was not given to paying compliments; his remark was the natural effect of the lady's kind reception.

"I!" answered Mrs Parkins, with honest wonder. "He's soon had enough of my simple talk, and feels the want of somebody to discourse with him.

about matters far beyond me.

I try to make him

comfortable in his home, you know, but I'm no

talker.

I'll go now for another plate and glass,

and then-”

"Are we not to have the pleasure of your company at table, Mrs Parkins?" asked Mr Arom, when the lady returned with the one plate.

"Nay; I had my tea an hour and a half ago; and I've things in plenty to see to in the house and in the garden. Take your seat, sir, and refresh yourself after your walk. I shall pass on my way to and fro and see that you are properly cared for."

"Oh yes, my wife will be with us now and again -won't you, Miriam ?" observed Mr Parkins, as he and his guest drew near to their unpretending repast.

Mr Arom had not been unfortunate in the lottery of marriage, but he let his thought run for a moment after the vanishing Mrs Parkins, wondering why it was that her address was always so pleasant. Many another person had remarked the same influence which set Mr Arom thinking. was scarcely beauty that Mrs Parkins possessed, but she had a kindliness of look and speech, and a grace of motion, also a melodious voice. Her

It

prim dress and cap, which, as became the minister's wife, were rigorously in accord with the rules of their sect, did not seem in the least prejudicial, although they were certainly not designed for the purpose of heightening feminine attractions; but perhaps if she had appeared in any other dress, it would have been thought just the right one for her. Outside of their own society, the minister's agreeable wife was a greater help to the minister than he quite knew of; for the sect to which he ministered, being considered censorious and aggressive, had many enemies. Yet, within the fold, although not an exception could be taken to her in the articles of frontlets, phylacteries, words, or deeds, it was the fashion to shake the head over her as not entirely regenerate, the probable reason of this being that she possessed in eminent degree a most excellent gift which they all professed to admire and to follow after.

Mr Parkins asked a blessing on their meal, which consisted of only cheese and bread and butter, with a jug of light ale. It was not very sumptuous fare; but modest as it was, there seemed to be with them a question of conscience about their right to enjoy it. At least Mr Arom appeared

to refer to some controverted point when he said

“After all, sir, a glass of ale does refresh one. I don't know hardly anything that so revives the strength after a day of harassing work, especially in warm weather."

"No doubt it does refresh," answered his friend. "I know nothing else that supports in the same way. It is for that reason that I hesitate about rejecting God's good creature; but I confess I am not quite clear about my duty in the matter."

"As you rightly say, sir, it is God's good creature, His useful creature; and that being so, why should we deprive ourselves of the comfort of it? I don't know."

"If we had only ourselves to think of, we should certainly not deny ourselves the use of a refreshing beverage. It is the thought of our weak brother that would restrain us. We must not lead him to offend."

“Grant that it is wrong to use a thing because others may abuse it, and we shall have to give up more than our glass of ale, sir."

"No doubt, no doubt, Mr Arom. It's a difficult question this total abstinence movement, that's what it is."

"Think you that it's been intemperance that caused the sin of this wretched young man that has now confessed the deed for which another has suffered ?"

"That unhappy youth, George Bateman! God forgive him! It is hard to say whether he may have been in liquor at the time of committing the crime. He did drink latterly, at the time of his falling away, I know; but he seemed to me to drink rather out of defiance—just to show his determined choice of profaneness, you know; not because he had a natural failing that way. He may have hardened himself to the deed with strong drink: I don't know."

George Bateman!" put in the silvery voice of Mrs Parkins, who was passing; "don't speak as if you believe George guilty. His own confession does not weigh much with me. Oftentimes a poor

creature has been led to make a confession of that kind from some extraordinary motive. I doubt if George is always right in his mind.”

Miriam, we must remember that the young man's self-accusation was sufficiently colourable to induce the Secretary of State to send down a respite," observed Mr Parkins.