not possess. As to the eyes themselves, the soft lustrous brightness of them defied analysis. No two people could agree about their colour; divided opinion declaring alternately that they were dark grey or black. Painters had tried to reproduce them, and had given up the effort in despair of seizing any one expression in the bewildering variety of expressions which they presented to view. They were eyes that could charın at one moment, and terrify at another; eyes that could set people laughing or crying almost at will. In action and in repose they were irresistible alike. When they first descried Mercy running to the door, they brightened gaily with the merriment of a child. When she turned and faced him, they changed instantly; softening and glowing as they mutely owned the interest and the admiration which the first sight of her had roused in him. His tone and manner altered at the same time. He addressed her with the deepest respect when he spoke his next words.

'Let me entreat you to favour me by resuming your seat,' he said. And let me ask your pardon if I have thoughtlessly intruded on you.'

He paused, waiting for her reply before he advanced into the room. Still spell-bound by his voice, she recovered self-control enough to bow to him and to resume her place on the sofa. It was impossible to leave her now. After looking at her for a moment, he entered the room without speaking to her again. She was beginning to perplex as well as to interest him. No common sorrow,' he thought, has set its mark on that

woman's face; no common heart beats in that woman's breast. Who can she be?'

Mercy rallied her courage, and forced herself to speak to him.

'Lady Janet is in the library, I believe,' she said. timidly. Shall I tell her you are here ?'

'Don't disturb Lady Janet, and don't disturb your self.' With that answer he approached the luncheontable, delicately giving her time to feel more at her ease. He took up what Horace had left of the bottle of claret and poured it into a glass. My aunt's claret shall represent my aunt for the present,' he said, smiling, as he turned towards her once more. I have had a long walk, and I may venture to help myself in this house without invitation. Is it useless to offer you anything?'

Mercy made the necessary reply. She was beginning already, after her remarkable experience of him, to wonder at his easy manners and his light way of talking.

He emptied his glass with the air of a man who thoroughly understood and enjoyed good wine. My aunt's claret is worthy of my aunt,' he said, with comic gravity, as he set down the glass. Both are the genuine products of Nature.' He seated himself at the table, and looked critically at the different dishes left on it. One dish especially attracted his attention. What is this?' he went on. A French pie! It seems grossly unfair to taste French wine, and to pass over French pie without notice.' He took up a knife and fork, and enjoyed the pie as critically as he had enjoyed the wine.

'Worthy of the Great Nation!' he exclaimed with enthusiasm. Vive la France!'

Mercy listened and looked, in inexpressible astonishment. He was utterly unlike the picture which her fancy had drawn of him in everyday life. Take off his white cravat, and nobody would have discovered that this famous preacher was a clergyman!

He helped himself to another plateful of the pie, and spoke more directly to Mercy; alternately eating and talking as composedly and pleasantly as if they had known each other for years.

'I came here by way of Kensington Gardens,' he said. For some time past I have been living in a flat, ugly, barren agricultural district. You can't think how pleasant I found the picture presented by the Gardens, as a contrast. The ladies in their rich winter dresses, the smart nursery maids, the lovely children, the evermoving crowd skating on the ice of the Round Pond; it was all so exhilarating after what I have been used to that I actually caught myself whistling as I walked through the brilliant scene! (In my time boys used always to whistle when they were in good spirits, and I have not got over the habit yet.) Who do you think I met when I was in full song?'

As well as her amazement would let her, Mercy excused herself from guessing. She had never in all her life before spoken to any living being so confusedly and so unintelligently as she now spoke to Julian Gray!

He went on more gaily than ever, without appearing to notice the effect that he had produced on her.

'Whom did I meet,' he repeated, when I was in

full song? My bishop! If I had been whistling a sacred melody, his lordship might perhaps have excused my vulgarity out of consideration for my music. Unfortunately, the composition I was executing at the moment (I am one of the loudest of living whistlers) was by Verdi-"La Donna e Mobile"-familiar, no doubt, to his lordship on the street organs. He recognised the tune, poor man, and when I took off my hat to him he looked the other way. Strange, in a world that is bursting with sin and sorrow, to treat such a trifle seriously as a cheerful clergyman whistling a tune!' He pushed away his plate as he said the last words, and went on simply and earnestly in an altered tone. 'I have never been able,' he said, 'to see why we should assert ourselves among other men as belonging to a particular caste, and as being forbidden, in any harmless thing, to do as other people do. The disciples of old set us no such example; they were wiser and better than we are. I venture to say, that one of the worst obstacles in the way of our doing good among our fellow-creatures is raised by the mere assumption of the clerical manner and the clerical voice. For my part, I set up no claim to be more sacred and more reverend than any other Christian man who does what good he can.' He glanced brightly at Mercy, looking at him in helpless perplexity. The spirit of fun took possession of him again. Are you a Radical?' he asked, with a humorous twinkle in his large lustrous eyes. I am!'

Mercy tried hard to understand him, and tried in vain. Could this be the preacher whose words had charmed, purified, ennobled her? Was this the man

whose sermon had drawn tears from women about her whom she knew to be shameless and hardened in crime ? Yes! The eyes that now rested on her humorously were the beautiful eyes which had looked into her soul. The voice that had just addressed a jesting question to her was the deep and mellow voice which had once thrilled her to the heart. In the pulpit, he was an angel of mercy; out of the pulpit, he was a boy let loose from school.

'Don't let me startle you!' he said, good-naturedly noticing her confusion. Public opinion has called me by harder names than the name of "Radical." I have been spending my time lately-as I told you just now -in an agricultural district. My business there was to perform the duty for the rector of the place, who wanted a holiday. How do you think the experiment has ended? The Squire of the parish calls me a Communist; the farmers denounce me as an Incendiary; my friend the rector has been recalled in a hurry ; and I have now the honour of speaking to you in the character of a banished man, who has made a respectable neighbourhood too hot to hold him.'

With that frank avowal, he left the luncheon-table, and took a chair near Mercy.

You will naturally be anxious,' he went on, to know what my offence was. Do you understand Political Economy and the Laws of Supply and Demand?' Mercy owned that she did not understand them. 'No more do I-in a Christian country,' he said. You shall hear my confession hear it) in two words.' He

'That was my offence. (just as my aunt will