"Miss Bellairs knows all

plain enough," he went on. about that; she will teach you, for she has a skeleton in her cupboard somewhere. Begin to make anatomical drawings this very night-only don't bother me with them. And now about this. sketch of yours; I advise you not to touch it, but get a clean sheet of paper, and begin again in this way," he said, making a few strokes.

"Put this sketch of yours carefully away, and bring it out six months hence, and then see what you think of it; that will be a test of your progress."

From that hour Edith never again regretted the sacrifices she had made in coming to London. She sometimes felt depressed and lonely in the evenings, but flew to her studies as the best cure; and, when at her easel, she forgot everything but her art, and felt in a very heaven of delight.

She had another pleasure, too, gradually a warm friendship sprung up between her and Henrietta Cheveley. The girls were both making an experiment in life, and this drew their sympathies to each other; both felt the good effect of having an object and an occupation, and became far more satisfactory and agreeable companions both to themselves and every one around them. Henrietta, too, discovered a latent taste for painting, and became her cousin's pupil at the National Gallery. This was a mutual interest much enjoyed by them both. They soon grew to look upon "Gallery days" as the treat of the week. They met at the Gallery on Thursday mornings, and Henrietta generally returned with Edith to her lodgings, and slept there Thursday night, and they went together to the Gallery on Friday. Often, on their way home, they dropped into St Vin

cent's for even-song; the quiet beauty of the church, the sweet singing of the boys, and the old familiar words of prayer, were very refreshing after the day's work.

Edith fell into the every-day round of her new life as naturally as though she had been always accustomed to it; it suited her thoroughly, and, when she went home for the Easter holidays, both Mrs Melville and Violet had to acknowledge that she had never looked better, or hardly so well, in her life. Her eye was bright and her face cheerful, and she had a life and energy about her that were quite new.

CHAPTER IX.

A SUGGESTION.

STEPHEN'S one private pupil gradually increased to half-a-dozen. As they were all intelligent youths and anxious to learn, Stephen worked harder than ever at his private studies to keep well ahead of them. He never wasted an hour, or even a moment, and generally sat with his book beside him even at his meals.

Now that he had lost his drawing pupil, he was less at the Thicket than formerly; but somehow he felt that Mrs Melville received him more on the equality of a friend than she had done before; and Violet always told him how her sister was getting on with her studies.

At Easter Edith Melville came home to Chiltern for a fortnight, and Stephen went to London. He found his mother and Jemima full of Miss Melville and her doings. She had brought new life into the little household, and completely captivated Jemima by making her sit as model for an angel's head-the red hair had taken Edith's fancy.

Mr Hunt, too, could not speak too highly of his new pupil, he declared she had more talent than all his others put together.

"If she will only keep free of matrimony she will make herself a name," he said. "But if she is not a little stronger minded than most of her sex, she will

take some husband who cares nothing for art, and get absorbed in babies and puddings-and then good-bye to painting. I declare I have a great mind to marry her myself to save her from such a fate; but she would never look at such an old ugly fogey as me. But Rivers, I have somewhat to say unto thee, my friend; it strikes me you have fulfilled your mission in Chiltern in unearthing this heaven-born genius, and that now you are wasting your fragrance. Seriously, my dear boy, I think you should try to rise a step or two higher. You cannot expect to remain a village schoolmaster all your days? Surely you have more ambition than that, or I have greatly misjudged you."

Stephen confessed that his ambition did soar above his present position, that in fact he had set his heart upon going to some university, but he could see no prospect of accomplishing his desire.

"One can do nothing in the teaching world without a university degree," he said. "I save every penny I can, but I am afraid I shall never make enough to take me to college till I am too old for it to be much use to me."

"There are other universities besides Oxford and Cambridge," said Mr Hunt.

"Yes, but I suppose they are all too expensive for me to think of, and I would not care for anything second rate."

Mr Hunt paced up and down his studio for a few minutes, tugging at his stubbly moustache. Then he stopped suddenly before Stephen, thrust his hands into his trouser pocket, stuck his legs very far apart, and poked his chin nearly into Stephen's face.

"I remember some

"I have it, young man," he said. Scotch cousin of mine who was very poor, but set upon learning, as you are; he got a bursary, I think they call it, and worked his way up, and now he is professor of some ology or other at Edinburgh. I've not seen the fellow for years, but I will write to him and find out all about it. I believe you can live on a crab and a carrot in these northern parts. I have no very clear idea of what a bursary is, but I know it is something to help indigent youths, who are fired with a love of learning, like yourself. You may have to scrub the class room floors, for all I know, but you would not stick at anything of that sort, unless I am much mistaken in you."

Mr Hunt did write to his Scotch cousin, who sent him all the necessary information about bursaries, which it seemed were, literally, purses to enable the winners to pay their college expenses. Winners of bursaries held exactly the same position in the university as other students, there was to be a competition the following November.

"Now old fellow, what do you say to that?" said Mr Hunt, when he had shewn his cousin's letter to Stephen. My advice to you is—go in and win."

Stephen returned to Chiltern with his head full of a Scotch bursary, he saw now that what he so ardently coveted, a university education, was not beyond his reach-but what would he have to sacrifice to win it? That was a serious question; and many an hour did he lie awake on his little bed considering his position and his future prospects in every possible light. He was determined to improve himself, but he knew that by