The New Magdalen

into the garden, was used only by the inmates of the house, or by old friends privileged to enter the reception-rooms by that way.

er ear. It was answered by another voice, whi

it. The voice that was answering the servant was the unforgotten voice which she had

self sufficiently to hurry to the library door. Her hand shook so that she failed at

hing very formidable. Only Lad

bound by his voice, and c

alone made a marked man of him. The unusual size of the orbits in which they were set was enough of itself to attract attention; it gave a grandeur to his head, which the head, broad and firm as it was, did not possess. As to the eyes themselves, the soft, lustrous brightness of them defied analysis No two people could agree about their color; divided opinion declaring alternately that they were dark gray 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 t

your seat,” he said. “And let me ask your pa

place on the sofa. It was impossible to leave him now. After looking at her for a moment, he entered the room without speaking to her again. She was beginning to per

urage, and forced he

I believe,” she said, timidly.

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, a

ready, after her remarkable experience of him, to wo

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 Fre

he picture which her fancy had drawn of him in everyday life. Take off his white

re directly to Mercy, alternately eating and talking as compos

ast. The ladies in their rich winter dresses, the smart nursery maids, the lovely children, the ever moving crowd skating on the ice of the Round Pond; it was all so exhilarating after what I have been used to, that I actuall

ssing. She had never in all her life before spoken to any living being

without appearing to notice the e

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 vent

er 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 once looked into her soul. The voice that had just addres

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

left the luncheon table, a

know what my offense was. Do you understand Pol

t she did not u

ife of a farm-laborer really was, in some parts of England, until I undertook the rector’s duties. Never before had I seen such dire wretchedness as I saw in the cottages. Never before had I met with such noble patience under suffering as I found among the people. The martyrs of old could endure, and die. I asked myself if they could endure, and live, like the martyrs whom I saw round me? — live, week aft

. Now he was the man, indeed, whom she had expected to see. Unconsciously she sat listening, with her eyes fixed on his fa

Starvation wages were the right wages, I was told. And why? Because the laborer was obliged to accept them! I determined, so far as one man could do it, that the laborer should not be obliged to accept them. I collected my own resources — I wrote to my friends — and I removed some of the poor fellows to parts of England where their work was better paid. Such was the condu

e had spoken — and took a turn in the room. Fired by his enthusiasm, Mer

ttle tribute — such as i

e cheeks as he looked at the beautifu

m it. “Don’t tempt me!” he said. “The frailest of all human creatures is a clergyman tempted by a subscription.” Mercy persisted, and conquered; she made him prove the truth of his own profound observation of clerical

om him. “No name,” she said, in a low

te relief — to Julian’s secret disappointment — Lady J

y Janet, holding up her

race. Horace took it, and passed on to Mercy. They walked away together slowly to the other en

ry,” he said. “And I found that y

d in her?” asked Lady Janet,

one expressive wo

lled to Mercy

s Grace Roseberry —” She suddenly checked herself. The instant she pronounced the n

entioned the name by which she was known. The start meant something. What could it be? Why did he turn aside, after bowing to her, and address himself to Horace, with an absent look in his face, as if

—— still with the air of a man whose mind was preoccupied. Instead of looking at his aunt when he made his reply, he looked round at Mercy with a troubled curiosity in his face, very

epeated — looking at his aunt thi

she is connected with me by marriage alread

ad forgotten the Colonel,” he answered. “Of cou

. She took Julian’s arm and drew him out of hearing of Horace and Mercy. “About that letter of yours?” she proceede

ted, and ch

ou now,” he sai

y n

t, instead of replying, Julian looked r

h it?” asked the old lady,

he answered, gravely, “while Miss Ros