what it is for an old woman to have a pet. I am like a hen with one chick-and think proportionably of my charge."

"Of course I remember George perfectly, and shall be very glad to see him when he can find time. This accounts for your being in town, my old friend, but not for your lodging with Mrs. Lackingham."

"That was by George's desire: he became acquainted with them, and they have been exceedingly kind and hospitable to him, though they can ill afford it; but the truth is, Miss St. Maur is the magnet, I suspect."

"Ah," I said, "I think I see.'

وو

"She is a very lovely girl-quite different to her mother: indeed, I am sometimes tempted to wish such a relationship did not exist between them. However, George is engaged to her; and they will be married when they can afford it. You see, since I am living here, George thought very naturally that my money might as well increase their little stock as that of an indifferent person. Besides, he wished, he said, to unite his

pleasures, and be able at once to visit me and Miss St. Maur at the same time; indeed, I see much more of him thus than I should had I been elsewhere: to share in the joys of those young ones that are growing up around us, Paul, is to live again all the brightest part of the life that has slipped from us; and if our noonday has been sombre, there will be warmer colours for the eventide of our days."

As I looked at her while she spoke thus, I seemed to understand the reason of her fresh complexion and happy face-so happy that it was almost beautiful in my eyes. Happiness does in one sense almost efface the marks of time: age is an unsparing sculptor, but his chisel tells with most effect on the hardest substance. It was too bad of me, but I could not resist the question,— "Then does George think the place a comfortable one?"

"He does not very much like Mrs. Lackingham; nor do I; but I know it is a very uncharitable feeling-utterly groundless, I dare say-and I struggle against it. Besides, I don't mean to

VOL. I.

3

"I

say I am unpleasantly situated-far from itonly there is an uncertainty about meal-times” (this seemed a recurrent idea; it was a grievance that had evidently made an impression). dare say they are put to sad straits sometimes. I certainly ought to make allowances, but perhaps a little more system: only the other day the butcher, and the tax-gatherer, were calling for their money; they were put off: for, indeed, what Mrs. Lackingham said was, I know, perfectly true; not a farthing had they in the house, for the gentleman who has just left seems to have forgotten to pay his rent, though I dare say they are quite sure of their money, for they had excellent references" (Miss Carnegie was growing very discursive in her information); "but the next person who called wished to purchase left-off clothes, and Mrs. Lackingham produced enough of woman's finery to get a couple of sovereigns: that was not otherwise than commendable; but then it was all spent that very night in tickets for a concert, which we nevertheless enjoyed as though there were no such things as cares and

debts; only at odd moments I could not help giving a thought to the baker, who is a struggling man with a large family."

Here the picture of the enraged Belgravian tradesman presented itself to my mind, and I was almost tempted to laugh. Miss Carnegie rose to go, adding-"If you have any friend who wishes for board and lodging and pleasant society, it would be a charity.”

"To whom regularity of meal-times is no object, eh, Miss Carnegie?"

She laughed.

"Well, I was thinking perhaps some Irish friend

"Ah, my dear madam, these Irish who are of unsettled habits are very often of unsettled income."

"Ah, you know best!" she continued, as she tied on her veil. "At any rate, it struck me I would just name it."

And so she departed-kind-hearted, loving, unselfish old maid.

A few days afterwards, George Carnegie called

on me. It is always a compliment to a young man if he be hardly recognized by those who knew him as a schoolboy, and in this instance it was one I could fairly pay. I had left him a mere child; and he appeared a man who stood six feet high without his shoes-and an uncommonly well-proportioned man too. He was what might be called a brilliant looking young fellow, with a pair of keen, impatient, blue eyes; yellow hair, lying in flat curls round a well-shaped head; features that were irregular enough, but open and expressive; and above all played a genial, gay, débonnaire manner, that had made him a favourite as a boy, and was likely enough to win him love as a man. We recalled old times together, and talked over the year in which he had the honour of being appointed my fag; then he inquired after my prospects, and detected a few grey hairs, and, as he declared, the marks of many a crow's foot on my face: "Well, I wish I had your income, however, doctor." I guessed the current of his thoughts.

"I am nearly a dozen years your senior,