artist, quite. I had a long consultation about it with Mr Hunt yesterday, and now I have quite decided to devote myself to teaching. There now! will that please you?"

So the widow was comforted, and to Chiltern with a parcel of pictures. one that had so taken Violet's fancy.

Stephen returned
Among them the

The day he was going, Stephen said, "Mother dear, I wonder you don't sit up in the drawing-room instead of this dull little back-room."

"No, I like this room best," she answered, "it is more cosy, but I sometimes think I might let the drawingroom to some nice quiet lady-there are two good bedrooms above that I never use, they would do nicely for a lady and her servant; it seems almost a pity they should stand empty, and it would be a great help to me -of course I would not take any one, only some nice quiet lady; I suppose you don't know of any one, Stephen ?"

"No, indeed, mother, and I don't quite like the idea of your letting lodgings, either: though, to be sure, the house must feel rather lonely with only you and Jemima in it."

"That indeed it do, Master Stephen," burst in Jemima, who had come in with the kettle, "it's awful lonely to go up stairs of nights; I do wish as how we could get some one to live in them empty rooms. I always think they are full of ghosts. And then the kitchen is that full of beedles at night that I just sits on the stairs outside when missus doesn't want her."

me with

"You know, Jemima, I always desire you to go to bed."

"I know you do, mum, but I'm that frightened I can't sleep, and so I just comes down here and waits till you puts out the gas, and then I scampers away for fear you should catch me."

L

CHAPTER II.

A TERRIBLE TEMPTATION.

AFTER the holidays Stephen set to work very earnestly to study. The days were soon so short that by the time school hours were over it was dark, and there was no inducement to walk, so he lighted his lamp, and then got out his books and worked hard for many hours. Two evenings in the week he spent at the Thicket; one was the night of the choir practice, and the other Miss Melville's drawing lesson. He had felt conscientious scruples about going on with the latter after Mr Hunt's verdict, and had told both Mrs Melville and her daughter that he thought he had no right to teach drawing any more, and that he believed his pupil now knew as much as himself; but both the ladies so earnestly begged him to go on, and so evidently were sincere in their wish that he should continue to do so, that he very willingly continued his instructions.

Those evenings were generally perfect bliss to poor Stephen, for Violet always sat in the room now with her work and chattered away according to her wont. The ladies were so used to the schoolmaster's presence that they treated him as a friend, and he had lost all his constraint and embarrassment of manner; indeed, he had ventured to tell Mrs Melville, who had a kind motherly heart, and was always ready to receive con

fidence, something of his early life and his mother's history.

One night the Rector had called on Stephen rather late, and found him deep over Greek.

"I did not know that you knew Greek," said Mr Champneys.

"I do not know it, Sir; I am only trying to teach myself a little."

"That is very uphill work. I shall be glad to help you sometimes if you will come round to the Rectory." "Oh, Sir, you are too good."

"Not at all; it will be a great interest and pleasure to me; if it were not for my nieces my Greek would get very rusty."

So it was settled, and Stephen often spent an hour or two at the Rectory. Mr Champneys was so pleased with his pupil, that he helped him with his other studies. And so time wore on till he had been a year at Chiltern.

His first lonely days in the village came back very vividly to his mind as he walked up to the Rectory on the anniversary of his installation as master of the Chiltern school. Many a friendly nod or respectful good evening greeted him, as he crossed the village green to-night, from the very people who had so resented the introduction of the London chap twelve months before; yet he was scarcely more intimate with them now than then. He still found he had very little in common with these sons of the soil except an interest in their children. The villagers had learnt to class the schoolmaster with the Rector and the ladies. Stephen found the Rector in the garden, smoking his evening cigar.

"Well, Rivers," he said, "I think we must have a talk to-night. I suppose you remember that it is just a year since you came to Chiltern."

"Yes, Sir, the year of my probation is over. I quite know that I was not to consider my place a permanency till you had tried me for a year; and I hope," he said, with a faltering voice, "that you are satisfied with me." "Well, before answering that question, I ask you whether you are willing to stay on with us?"

"Willing—yes, Sir, of course I am. I never was so happy in my life!"

"I am glad to hear that, for I can assure you that I am willing to keep you. We have been examining the school accounts, and find we are able to raise the teacher's salary to seventy pounds a year."

Stephen tried to express his thanks, but the Rector hurried on.

"And now, my dear fellow, I have a proposition to make to you. From what I have seen of you I have no doubt the idea has entered your head long ago, and, for my part, I do not see what is to hinder you from taking Orders. Think the matter well over, and if you feel honestly that you have any vocation to the ministry, I will do all in my power to help you. I should be glad to have you as my curate, and, as the Bishop is an old friend of mine, I have little doubt that we could manage all about the ordination without much difficulty; of course you would have to study for your examinations, but that would be quite an easy matter to you. Now, this is no new thought to me; I have had it in my head for a long time, and have tried to direct your studies with a view to this result."