disagrees with them. You may laugh, but try it!"

"No, thank you, I'll take your word for it."

"You may, for it is a known fact. Medical men will tell you that gruel is lowering. We give it in feverish colds. Poor old people want keeping up, not lowering, but in the Union they must have gruel for breakfast or nothing. With nothing to do, nothing to think of but their food, and that food distasteful, how can their minds do otherwise than prey upon themselves? they have nothing better to look for, they are to live thus till they die, they have nothing to amuse or interest the mind, not even a child, or the twiddling over a baby's cap; the past can only, as far as their fading memories can recall it, afford bitter regrets. What wonder that many should become imbecile or insane? They do! See the returns from the Belfast Union. They are frightful."

"Well, this is all very bad, of course; but—”

"Yes, it is all very bad, but it need not be of course. Even supposing that the poor in the Unions should only be supplied with the bare necessaries of life, it need not be in the most distasteful form, nor should casual treats, casual alleviations, in the visits and little presents of sympathizing persons be denied them. But it is very difficult to obtain access to the inmates, unless you be related to one of them. And their relations, poor people like themselves, have no time for visiting, nor money to supply their little comforts, such as tea and snuff. The affections, the tastes, are absolutely without nutriment, and you might as well expect silk-worms to live without mulberry leaves. The end will be that they will become imbecile or insane."

Oh, ho, ho!"

"It is no laughing matter," said Miss Clairvaux with great energy, "it's a deep wrong."

"I see I've no chance, you've completely taken the whip-hand of me. Well, Miss Clairvaux, your feelings do you great honour, I assure you I mean it; and your conduct has been quite consistent with them. I see you are determined to be a village Hampden in the matter, and make a ship-money affair of it. All I can say is, I wish you safely through it; and when you find yourself in the hands of justice, send for me and I'll try to get you

out."

"Thank you for your promise. I don't doubt I shall keep out of harm, but I am obliged to you all the same. I hope Mrs. Debenham is well-"

Quite, thank you. She desired her compliments-"

"It is a long time since I have seen her, but you know it is impossible for me to go into the town. I can't venture on those stepping stones."

"Why not have a fly ?"

"Where's the money to come from? you think I'm made of money, I believe."

"Well, you have everything so nice about you, that certainly there seems no want of it."

"I must save it to mend the roads. Here's my young friend come down from London, and just now I proposed to her a walk somewhere, but really on second thoughts I could not tell where she could go, except ancle deep. We ought to have stilts, like the peasants of the Landes."

"Oh, what dreadful exaggeration! Do come out and make your own observations. You sit over the fire with a good novel in this pretty room till you fancy things outside worse than they are."

"I scorn to read novels by daylight, at any time. In the evening they are well enough now and then, if I have nothing better to do. Oh no, I never trust to other persons' reports when I can use my own eyes. I have only

to go up the slope in front of the house and take a panoramic observation."

"The summer is coming, and panoramic observations will then be agreeable enough. I have to thank the state of the roads for having kept you at home, and thereby enabled me to see you. The waters will soon subside between you and the church, and then you will no longer be in this alarming state of spiritual destitution."

And with a bow and a laugh, he went off.

"I really believe," said Miss Clairvaux, "that he only sent the partridges to soften me about the highway-rate. Much obliged to him I am! I have not yielded him an inch, that's one comfort."

"Are you not in danger of getting into some trouble, ma'am ?" said Eleanor rather uneasily.

"Tut no, my dear, or, if I do, I shall doubtless get out of it again. Nothing would