end, Mr. Ford. I am very, very sorry I have misled you, but I do not refuse you in order to secure my happiness with another." Audrey rose, as if to intimate that the interview had best terminate. The old man took her hand, and said,

"My dear, I have no wish to pry into your secret; you have acted honourably towards me, and in keeping with the character I always gave you credit for. If I could do anything to secure your happiness, believe me I would do it. I have had too many trials in life for disappointments to have the keenness and bitterness they have in youth. Yet this is a disappointment to me. But I shall strive to overcome it, so that I may rejoice with all my heart when I see you the happy wife of a worthy husband."

Audrey could not speak. The tears were falling from her eyes, but she tried to smile on the kindly old man, who, she felt, had more goodness of nature than she had before discovered.

"I shall come again," he said, shaking her hand. Not just immediately, but soon; until then, good bye, my dear, good-bye." And he hurried away, saying to himself as he went,-"That girl has a noble nature, in spite of her up-bringing! 1 believe now it's something about Dynecourt." After pondering for some time, he sighed, thinking, "Well, it's all for the best, I suppose; but oh! if it had but pleased God to have spared my poor Patty! It is hard at my age to be trying to begin life afresh, as it were!"

CHAPTER XXX.

66

And,

write me all the north-country news.
Dolly, after you have visited the Crewdsons
let me know what they are like; and," she
whispered, laughing, you must tell me
whether you intend to marry Josiah or not."
"I can tell thee that now," said Dorothy,
with a tremor in her voice, "I have made
up my mind - I cannot like Josiah."

Then, my dear child, why are you going to Leeds!"

But there was no time to answer, the train was already in motion, and in a few minutes it was out of sight.

Dorothy's words added to Grace's perplexity. "I have been wrong," she thought, to let her see so much of Captain Verschoyle. But it never occurred to me she would take any fancy to him. Perhaps he may have seen the impression he was producing, and so have hurried his departure. I am sure he is too honourable to take any advantage. But I am certainly to blame; I ought to have been more careful. Poor little Dolly!" And all the way home, and during the day, Grace was anxiously thinking thus about her young sister.

Nor was she the only person whose mind seemed to be filled and possessed with thoughts of Dorothy.

Every day since his arrival at Darington Captain Verschoyle had gone into York to meet the train by which he expected that Dorothy would come, and each day he had been disappointed. He made up his mind to go once more, and then to call upon her aunt, and see if she had arrived without his seeing her. All the reflections and workings of Charles Verschoyle's mind at this time it would be simply impossible for us to indicate. Sometimes he told himself that if he did not offer to marry the girl he would be an abominable vagabond, a blackguard who deserved to be kicked by every honourable man, and to be "cut" by every honest woman. At other times he said to himself that he was the greatest fool in the world. Who could believe that the grandson of an earl, and an officer in a crack regiment, would give up everything and everybody to marry the daughter of a country shopkeeper? The whole thing was absurd; and he must simply get out of the mess in the best way he could. When Grace had observed with anxiety that Dorothy did not arrive he worked himself there was a change in her sister. Her into a fever, and finally made up his mind spirits had been uneven, and her gaiety to call upon Miss Abigail Fletcher, who, to forced, and there was a nervousness in her his surprise, was from home-"staying at appearance quite foreign to her nature. Malton." The maid told him that she I am so sorry to leave thee, Grace," she said.

"I SHOULD HAVE TOLD THEE." DURING the week the fashionable chronicle of the day announced that Lady Laura Verschoyle and Miss Verschoyle had arrived at their residence, 27A, Egmont Street, and that Captain C. Egerton Verschoyle had taken his departure for the north. But it did not intimate that Miss Dorothy Fox had left Fryston Grange for Holberton Hall, Leeds.

Still, so it was; and on the day fixed Mrs. Hanbury went to the Great Northern Railway Station to see Dorothy depart.

"And I, dear, am sorry to part with you. We shall miss you dreadfully. You must

thought she had heard something about Miss Dorothy being expected. Jane would be sure to know; only Jane had a holiday, and wouldn't be back until Monday. So

until Monday Captain Verschoyle had to wait, chafing in fear that something had happened which would prevent him from seeing Dorothy again.

Miss Crewdsons. She felt she had the courage to kill Josiah's hopes and crush his dearest wish; but how could she face Jemima and Kezia, after they knew she To Josiah Crewdson, Dorothy's visit was did not intend to marry their brother? an event such as had never before occurred Yet what was to be done? She could not in his lifetime. As he stood waiting for stay a week there deceiving everybody. the train he felt quite sick and faint from No, it would be better to have it over excitement, oppressed with a nervous as soon as possible, and then go to Aunt dread that something unforeseen had de- Abigail's at York. There she had fixed tained her. But in another minute Dor- her longing hope of meeting Charles othy arrived, and soon Josiah was wildly Verschoyle once more-only once. Dordashing against passengers and porters in othy was too young and unworldly to have order to possess himself of her luggage. any doubt of the man who knew that he After the first greetings were over, Dorothy had her heart in his keeping. If it were was silent. Oppressed by the feeling not for those dreadful sisters she would tell that she had nothing to say, she excused Josiah the very next day. But how would herself on the plea of being tired, and they take it ? what might they not do to Josiah, in his delight at seeing her, readily her? forgave her taciturnity.

Holberton Hall was a heavy-looking, square, stone-built house. Josiah thought it had never before presented so dull and gloomy an appearance, and he remarked, apologetically,

My sisters dont't care for flowers, but the place might be made much more cheerful-looking. There is no occasion for my living here at all. We might get another house if thou liked, Dorothy."

Dorothy looked in the opposite direction, "from coyness," as Josiah thought, but in reality to prevent him from seeing the tears with which her eyes were filled. Her deception seemed to come before her in all its force, and she felt that she should be miserable until she had told Josiah the real state of her mind.

The Miss Crewdsons came out to meet Dorothy, and delivered themselves of a set speech of formal greeting. They seemed to regard her engagement as a settled business; so that Dorothy felt herself to be an impostor, felt as if she had come into the family upon false pretences. Oh, how many times before the dreary evening came to an end did she wish that she had gone direct from Fryston to her own home! Josiah did all he could to amuse her, making, as Jemima afterwards said, a complete mountebank of himself." But it was all to no purpose. The gloomy house and the sombre room oppressed the girl; and the two stern, hard-featured women made her shy and timid. More than all, the consciousness that she was acting deceitfully filled her with misery. She rejoiced, therefore, when it was time to retire to her own room, although only for the satisfaction of indulging her grief, and sobbing herself to sleep.

66

Dorothy's chief perplexity was about the

It was a pity that Dorothy could not have overheard the opinions which at that very time the sisters were exchanging with each other on their brother's choice. Her appearance they regarded with pious horror. She was a child, a baby-faced doll; and they charitably inferred that if she had any sense, she took care that nobody should give her credit for it. They quoted the Proverbs of Solomon so freely concerning her, that had any one overheard them he would have felt dubious as to Dorothy's moral character. Finally, they agreed in declaring that they would not leave a stone unturned to prevent the entrance into the Crewdson family of such a lackadaisical creature.

Next day, when Josiah had left, Jemima began to speak about Dorothy's dress. She said they were surprised to find that Dorothy had departed from that plainness of apparel which it so much became Friends to adhere to. Surely her parents could not approve of it. When Dorothy said she had her parents' sanction, both the sisters elevated their eyebrows with an air of incredulity and astonishment. With no little emphasis, they said that such vanity would not be permitted in their brother's wife. She must be consistent, and wear a cap and bonnet suited to women whose aims were higher than the adornment of a miserable body which worms would soon destroy.

Dorothy was silent. Only in this way could she keep down the tears which threatened to come in a torrent. At another time her spirit would have been roused, and she would have done battle bravely with the Miss Crewdsons for presuming to lecture her for doing what she had her parents' authority to do. But

conscience makes cowards of us all,"

No, Dorothy," said Josiah, with a shake of his head, "nothing can make me think poorly of thee."

Thou knowest," she continued, "that I like thee very much indeed. From the first time I saw thee I thought thee very good and kind, but I" and here she paused.

"Do not love me," he said, finishing the sentence. "I know that. I don't expect it to come all at once. Sometimes I fear that thou wilt find it impossible, I am so awkward and stupid: but, Dorothy, thou said thou wouldst try."

and Dorothy knew she was acting wrongly. | which will make thee think very poorly of She felt she should never have placed her- me." self in this position. She could not defend herself without speaking of a decision which, until Josiah knew it, she had no right to mention to any of his family. Josiah was to return at five, and Dorothy thought that hour would never come. About three the sisters proposed to take her with them to visit the sick and poor. They said it was their day for ministering to the wants of their district. Dorothy, however, plucked up courage to refuse. This gave rise to many remarks on her want of charity and slothfulness. But the clock warned them that unless they went off speedily, they could not return by the time Josiah would be home, and they left her. She was not long by herself, for the thought of Dorothy being at home to welcome him had given such impetus to Josiah's usually slow and methodical movements, that his business was over by three o'clock. Before another hour had elapsed he was in his own dining-room, anxiously inquiring of Dorothy the cause of her tearful eyes and weary looks.

"Indeed, it is nothing," she answered, with quivering mouth; for even his tenderness touched her now. For a moment there was silence, then with a sudden effort she said

66

"It would be quite different," he continued. Here they are the mistresses, and they feel as if everything belonged to them. But when they only came as visitors it wouldn't be so, or if they were cross and cranky thou needst not mind them. Oh! Dorothy, don't let them make any difference about me."

Still she did not say a word until they reached the square formal summer-house, with the bench along its sides, and the round table in the middle. When they were seated, she said,

"Yes, I did; but, Josiah," — and she leaned her arms on the table that she might cover her face with her hands, "I cannot even try now.

There was silence for several minutes, and then Josiah said in a husky voice, “I ought to have known it. An uncouth fellow, not able even to tell thee what I feel - what else could I expect from thee?"

"This thou might have expected," said Dorothy, looking at him fixedly, "that having given thee and my father my word that I would try, I should have avoided all temptation that might lead me to break that word. When I felt that I could never do as thou wished, I should have told thee, and not acted deceitfully by coming here among thee and thy relations."

Are sisters making thee decide thus ? Thou hadst not made up thy mind before thou came here?"

Yes, I had."

"Josiah, I am going to tell thee something Dorothy.

when I most wanted to speak to thee. Does Thinking that she would feel more happy thy father know of this?"

From The Fortnightly Review.
POLITICAL REPUTATIONS.

had lived and carried all or any of these measures he would have enjoyed the repuIN one of the numerous tributes to the tation of Walpole, is another question, and worth of the late Lord Clarendon which one we suppose which few would answer in writers of every party have combined to the affirmative. But our present point is render, it was said that "few ministers can that Walpole did gain a high and enduring expect the posthumous fame which has some- reputation as a great statesman and a valutimes been won too cheaply in former gen- able public servant without troubling himerations." This statement is made in anti-self at all about legislative work; without cipation of the verdict of posterity, who are leaving behind him a single first-class measlikely, it is supposed, to accord to the mem-ure which bears his name. His fame is ory of Lord Clarendon a less distinguished estimate than his solid services and great industry would have commanded fifty years ago. We have no intention of discussing either the past services or the future reputation of Lord Clarendon. But the theory which seems to rest a statesman's title to fame upon the practical work which he has accomplished, is suggestive of some interesting reflections, especially at a time when English ministers are so much before the public eye, and are so engrossed in legislative work as they are required to be at the present day.

founded on his character. All the anecdotes of him that have been handed down to us are full of character. Nil te quæsiveris extra was eminently applicable to him as to others of the same stamp. His influence upon the minds of all around him had not to be acquired by the tedious process of proving to them his legislative abilities. It was simply the moral ascendency of a strong character, with which neither the finest intellect nor most spotless integrity by themselves can cope in the long run. He stands out as one of the most memorable figures in English history; and in one sense he did nothing.

Let us go on to the next great name upon the list, Lord Chatham. Of course it will be said that he conducted the Seven Years' War, and can we call that nothing? Certainly not. But the glorious results of that war were due much less to Chatham's practical ability, than to the influence of his character upon the military and naval services. Lord Macaulay "cannot discern in his arrangements any appearance of profound or dexterous combinations." His expeditions against the French coast, says the critic, were "costly and absurd." All that Lord Stanhope can say in reply to the objections which have been urged against his scheme for the capture of Quebec, is that "it is easy to cavil." But it is difficult to refute the force of them; or to help believing that it was to the genius of Wolfe much more than to the skill of Pitt that England was indebted for escaping a great disaster. After the conclusion of the war Pitt's career was certainly not one of legislative industry or even of administrative usefulness. He not only did nothing himself, but was the cause of doing nothing in others. The secret of his power then lay in the man himself. From such characters as these no proof of their right to govern is required. They are accepted without question; and may do, or leave undone, exactly as much as they please.

It is a poor compliment, if not a mark of ingratitude, to the many able and meritorious politicians to whom England is indebted for the social and political progress of the last century, to say that it is not by services of this nature that the highest reputations have been won. Yet that is really the truth. It is surely a very striking circumstance that since the accession of the House of Hanover those statesmen who have made the deepest mark on their own generation, and have attracted most strongly the sympathies of succeeding ones, have not, as a rule, been men with whom the memory of great legislative measures is associated. The fame of Sir Robert Walpole is as fresh as it was a hundred years ago; yet what measure of consequence was passed during the whole of his long administration? Not one. Nor was this because no reforms were asked for, nor because public men in general were disinclined to take them up. When Lord Stanhope died in 1721, he had in preparation a measure for the relief of Roman Catholics, and he had previously introduced one for the relief of Protestant Dissenters. The Peerage Bill which had failed in 1719 was to have been revived in a less odious form; officers in the army were to be exempted from dismissal by the Crown except after trial by court-martial; and other measures of considerable practical importance were under consideration at the time, which at Walpole's accession to power were all quietly dropped, though having been in Stanhope's in modern times who, with the extraordinary ministry he must have given an implied con- force of character which distinguished Walsent to them. Whether if Lord Stanhope | pole and Lord Chatham, combined great

His son seems to have been the one man