customer I ever served. Tell her a thing's 'the go,' and she won't even look at it, but bring out some faded old thing you only consider fit for the workhouse women, and she buys it as if it had been the latest novelty from Paris. And the wonder of it is that she looks more of a lady than any one that comes into my shop."

But there were more important things to be thought of than the number and fashion of Edith's new dresses. Now it was decided that Edith was to go to London, it had to be considered where she was to live, and what she was to do when she got there.

Many family councils were held, but no satisfactory conclusions arrived at; so, at last, Mrs Melville determined to fall back upon her "Privy Councillor," as Violet had nick-named Stephen.

At the next drawing-lesson he was informed that it was decided for his pupil to go to London for a few months, with the object of studying art.

"I am very glad to hear it," said Stephen, "for I am sure it is the very wisest thing you can do. A course of real study under a good teacher will set you on your feet, and I see no reason why you should not go on to be a really good painter."

Edith's cheeks glowed with pleasure, for she felt the schoolmaster was right in his estimation of her.

"But," she asked, "where am I to go for this good teaching? How am I to set to work?"

"Yes," put in Mrs Melville, "and where can she live? I will not hear of allowing my daughter to go into a London house that we know nothing of. Can you suggest anything, Mr Rivers?"

'Have you no friends Miss Melville could board with," suggested Stephen. "I believe young ladies often board in families, or go as parlour boarders into a ladies' school."

"No, that would not suit me at all," said Edith. "I must be quite independent, or I could go to my aunt's. I should like to have lodgings in some respectable house near the British Museum and National Gallery, and get a master to give me lessons there sometimes. That is the best way I can think of. What do you think of that plan, Mr Rivers ?"

"I think it a very good plan," replied Stephen, “but I think it would be better if you could get into some artist's studio. There is no reason why you should not do both."

"I

"That would be the very thing," cried Edith. cannot imagine anything more delightful than studying in an artist's studio. I think I should be perfectly happy if I could do that. But do you know of any artist that would take me as a pupil ?—a really good one." "I could make enquiries of Mr Hunt," replied Stephen. "He would be sure to know."

"Oh, thank you. Please will you write at once, Mr

Rivers."

"Yes; I will write to-night, if you wish," said Stephen, looking to Mrs Melville for her sanction.

"Yes, please, do write," said Mrs Melville, "and ask your Mr Hunt, at the same time, if he knows of any respectable house where my daughter could live comfortably. I shall send Jane with her to wait on her, so she would not be a troublesome lodger."

Stephen said he was afraid Mr Hunt would not know

so much about lodgings as studios, but he would ask him. Stephen remembered what his mother had said about letting her drawing-room floor, but he did not like to suggest that, and went home and wrote his letter to Mr Hunt.

The reply came very promptly, and the schoolmaster took it up to the Thicket at once for Mrs Melville to see. Mr Hunt said he should be delighted to take the young lady into his own studio, but, as he had only male pupils, he was afraid it might not be agreeable to her. "No, indeed," ejaculated Mrs Melville, "I should think not. My daughter packed up with a lot of rough men." Mr Hunt went on to say that he was acquainted with a Miss Bellairs who had received a thorough education in art, being a student of the Academy, and that she took lady pupils and provided them with a living model ('Oh, delightful,' cried Edith), and that he, Mr Hunt, visited her studio twice. a week to see how her pupils were progressing, and to give them hints. He thought Miss Melville could not do better than join Miss Bellair's classes.

Edith would have decided the matter at once, but there was still the difficulty about her abode.

"Let us go up to aunt's for a week," said Edith, "she will know of some place."

"No, dear," said Mrs Melville, "that would not do at all. Your aunt once recommended me to lodgings where I was robbed right and left, and the dirt! Do you think your mother could tell us of any place, Mr Rivers? She might know of some kind respectable widow woman with a room or two to let. Jane can do all the cooking my daughter needs."

Jane was a faithful servant who had nursed Edith and Violet from their infancy.

Stephen hesitated and reddened.

"My mother has two or three empty rooms," he said at last, "and, the last time I visited her, she was saying she might as well let them, it would be a little company for her in the house."

"Your mother," put in Violet, "that sweet pretty old lady that I made acquaintance with. Oh, mamma, that would be the very thing! I am sure Edith would be comfortable with her. You don't know what a sweet sad face she had."

"And do you really think she would take my daughter?" asked Mrs Melville, eagerly. "Oh, Mr Rivers, it would be a load off my mind if you could induce her to consent."

"I am sure she would be glad to have Miss Melville," replied Stephen. "It is a small house, and poorly furnished, but I am certain my mother would do everything in her power to make Miss Melville comfortable, if she could put up with the accommodation."

So Stephen was to write to his mother to ask her if, as a great favour, she would receive Miss Melville and her servant Jane as lodgers.

"That young man is a perfect God-send," said Mrs. Melville, when Stephen had said good-night. “I cannot think what we should do without him."

CHAPTER VI.

ST VINCENT'S.

IT was finally arranged that Mrs Melville and her two daughters should spend a week at Mr Cheveley's, so as to be able to negociate with Mrs Rivers and Miss Bellairs.

As Violet was coming down-stairs on the first morning of her visit, she met Henrietta coming up, dressed in a plain dark blue serge gown, a long black cloak, and black straw bonnet, with a long veil.

Violet looked at her in astonishment.

"Why, Harry, what have you been doing to yourself?" she exclaimed.

Henrietta reddened a little.

"I have only been to church," she said.

Been to church!" repeated Violet, in some surprise. The last time she stayed in London, Henrietta had been much affected with headaches on Sunday mornings. "Yes-why do you look so astonished, Vi? every morning to prayers, it is so nice. Perhaps you would like to go with me?"

I go

"Yes, I should very much," said Violet, "but must I wear a funny bonnet like that if I go with you?" she added with a laugh.

Oh, no," answered her cousin quite seriously, "only our confraternity wear these bonnets."