were similar constructions to be introduced in a scene consecrated to wild and sylvan beauty. A few hillocks should then be thrown up by the spade in a direction roughly parallel to the path, and of different heights, so as to vary the uniformity of the ground, and secure positions for displaying the ferns and wild plants, which must next be tastefully dotted over them, while the level ground should gradually be carpeted with periwinkles (green and variegated), primroses, ground-ivy, &c. &c. Nothing more is needed to secure the perfection of a wild garden. We have such an untended realm ourselves (no gardener is ever suffered to touch it), and esteem it one of the greatest solaces of country life. It serves a meditative mind for a library, and the tired spirit for the pleasantest of retirements. Undoubtedly such a pleasaunce, to be thoroughly appreciated, should belong to a person fond of studying vegetable growth and physiology. As Plato wrote over the door of his study, 'Let no one ignorant of geometry enter here,' over the portals of the wild garden might aptly be raised the inscription, 'Let no one enter except he know a little botany.'

Another wild garden rises before the mind's eye in treating of this subject, which was arranged on a very different and more expensive plan than the last-mentioned one, but which was superior to it in some respects, notably so in the protection which it afforded to ferns and tender plants. It belonged to a clergyman, who owned a large level flower-garden. Being fond of work, in conjunction with his man, he excavated the whole of the lower end of the lawn, to the depth of twelve or fifteen feet, in an irregular curve, throwing the earth into banks on the edges of the cutting, and in some places, inside the hollow thus made, in the form of rough heaps. The width of this excavation, which ran the whole length of the garden, was perhaps from twenty-five to thirty feet, varying every here and there to prevent monotony. Rustic bridges were thrown over this, and covered with ivy and honeysuckles. Trees and shrubs were planted on the mounds; ferns, stonecrops, orpine and Alpine plants were copiously introduced, and a small runlet diverted from its course was induced to tumble down one side of it, in a mimic cascade, fringed with water-loving plants. It was the parson's delight to lead a visitor through this, and at the end to cause him to turn a corner and confront what seemed a lake at the termination of the pleasaunce, but which was in reality an ingenious utilisation of the village horsepond! The whole idea was unusually well adapted for the purpose for which it was designed, to form a home for our native wild plants, while it formed a distinct and delightful feature of the vicarage garden.

No difficulty will be experienced in getting wild plants to grow and prosper in some such wilderness as we have endeavoured to delineate. Save in very dry seasons, they need not even be watered;

the trees overhead warding off the direct rays of the sun, and securing them a plentiful supply of moisture by the passing vapours which they distil, and drop from their leaves on them. Where ferns are meant to grow luxuriantly, however, it is as well every now and then to give them a copious watering at nightfall. Every autumn the primroses, violets, &c. may be divided, and the offshoots planted at some distance from the parent stock. It is advisable also to suffer the dead leaves to lie where they fall, as they shelter the tenderer species during winter, and enrich the ground afterwards by their decay. Raking them up involves too often tearing up well-rooted specimens. Indeed, it cannot be sufficiently impressed upon the lovers of wild gardens that gardeners should never be allowed to enter them. They are certain to think their masters lunatics for preserving and propagating weeds, and neglecting the ribbon beds and geometrical arrangement of bedding plants which lie so close to their hearts, but that does not much signify if they can only be kept out of the wilderness. In some portion or aspect of the wild-flower garden all the native plants which please its owner will prosper; it will be for him to learn how to adjust the space at his command to the conditions each family of them requires. And this renders work in the wild garden the best possible lesson in practical botany.

A few words must be added, in conclusion, on the choice of wild plants for the garden. Bracken and ferns will, of course, be largely introduced, with ivy and honeysuckle overhead. Foxgloves of dif ferent colours (the bees will effectually mix the seed annually) are especially effective on the outskirts. It will be found that they will not prosper well in too shady spots. Periwinkles, ground-ivy, the veronicas, violets, &c. will furnish the necessary tints of blue; while the pink, campion, lychnis, soapwort, &c. will secure shades of red. Snowdrops (single) and daffodils (also single) will flourish well on elevations in sunny open spaces. Primroses, however, are unrivalled for beauty in spring. Plant as many of the native straw-coloured flower as can be conveniently procured, and intermix here and there a few plants of darker shades, pink and purple; in a few years they will increase surprisingly, and, owing to the bees mixing their pollen, will flower of every shade between pure white and the deepest crimThe wild garden is never more attractive than in March and April; when these are blossoming, wall-flowers may be sparingly dotted about; arabis and iberis, alyssum and aubrietia, will variegate the more open spaces; honesty, with its mauve flowers and curious bladder-like seed vessels, is indispensable; the sunroses and chickweeds, but especially the mouse-ear, to furnish 'forget-me-nots for happy lovers,' must by no means be forgotten. Thus will its possessor rejoice in a garden which offers delight to sight and smell every month in the year, which takes care of itself, nay, which, without any expense, annually grows more beautiful.

son.

M. G. WATKINS, M.A.

A MONEY-LENDER'S LOVE

A Story in Six Chapters

CHAPTER I. BLANCHE HARDWICKE'S RESOLUTION.

PENNILESS! Reader, do you know what it is to be penniless? I hope not. I hope no one I am addressing has ever stood as Blanche Hardwicke did one bright September day five years ago-penniless ―knowing that, unless she herself individually could gain her livelihood, she must starve. The dazzling sun streamed in through the window; all nature looked bright and gay; the pretty cottage seemed the abode of happy prosperous people, while from within rose Blanche's despairing cry, What shall we do ?'

She made a wonderful picture, that handsome girl, as she stood, her magnificent figure drawn up to its full height; the masses of golden hair gleaming in the sun, in striking contrast to the dark eyes, now softening into tears, now flashing with fierce scorn; intense excitement flushing into deeper brilliance the delicate complexion; one slender hand clenched, as if facing a bodily foe, instead of the pale spectre of want.

There were three persons in that room- a father and two daughters. The room itself- a long narrow one, formed of two small rooms, with the folding-doors between thrown back-betokened better days. Yonder velvet sofa, with carved oak supports, would suit a spacious hall; that inlaid writing-table, and the cabinet mounted in ormolu, with Sèvres-china plaques let into its doors, befitted the saloon of a country-house, rather than the only sittingroom of a cottage; feminine good taste was visible in the freshlygathered flowers, in the dainty arrangement of ornaments; these latter were simple and inexpensive enough, all that were saleable had long ago been converted into money; what remained were only a few photograph-stands and books, pretty vases and boxes, the thousand and one nicknacks which nice women collect wherever they go.

To sore straits had that family been reduced, though Ralph Hardwicke had as good blood as any in England running through his veins. Starting with a younger son's portion, he invested that portion in a bank, became the junior partner, and for many years went on prosperously. He had no particular talents, and little energy, so he made no great fortune, but had a comfortable income; spending the same as it was gained year by year. Ralph was not the man to lay by for a rainy day, or to provide for his two daughters. SECOND SERIES, VOL. X. F.S. VOL. XX.

R

Mrs. Hardwicke had died years before, when her youngest child was a baby.

Suddenly, four years before my story begins, a commercial panic occurred; credit was shaken all over the country. Many firms could not stand the shock; among others, Turner and Hardwicke's Provincial Bank. It stopped payment; the creditors had a meeting; three of them undertook the management; affairs were wound up. There had been no wild speculating, so ultimately fifteen shillings in the pound was paid; and at the last general meeting, there being a balance of four thousand pounds still remaining, the creditors unanimously agreed that this sum, being too small to be divided with profit among so many, should be presented to the former partners. So Mr. Hardwicke at sixty found himself the possessor of two thousand pounds, some valuable family plate, and the handsome furniture of his country-house.

Many men upon this would have worked and raised a second fortune; but his unexpected disaster seemed to have knocked all intellect, nay, all common sense and manliness, out of Ralph Hardwicke.

At the time of the crash, his daughters were mere girls-Ellen twenty, Blanche eighteen-inexperienced girls, knowing nothing of the world outside the circle of country society in which they lived; naturally they acquiesced in any arrangements their father made. In their feminine department-the management of the house, the curtailing of servants and expenses-they saved and directed; displaying talents, energy, and self-denial that it would have been well for all had Ralph imitated.

The Hardwickes moved to a small house in the same county, and Ralph made feeble efforts to obtain employment; writing a few letters to influential friends, asking for government appointments, firmly convinced, as he applied for each, that the place would become his, though frequently not taking the trouble to find out the necessary qualifications; then sinking into despair at the answer, generally a kind courteous letter, only pointing out that the applicant must, by rule, be a lawyer, or a clergyman, or under forty years of age, or mentioning some other bar which ought to have struck Ralph himself before applying. So the Hardwickes lived for months. At first the girls went among their acquaintances as of old, thinking in their innocence of the world, Why should our being poor make any difference?' It did though; where does it not? Some friends were very kind, others grew cold and distant; somehow the very kindness galled the proud young spirits, unable to brook many a favour that, seeming natural in older days, now weighed with leaden power on the hot sensitive tempers.

It was with more relief than pain, when, startled by Ralph's announcement that he had only fifteen hundred pounds left, his

daughters agreed to leave their present house, and go to a town on the southern coast, where people said things were cheaper.

Some furniture was sold (half had been disposed of on leaving the original home); the money so obtained took them and their remaining household goods to the little watering-place. Once settled there, Ellen and Blanche held many consultations, with little result, save the growing conviction that they must depend on themselves and think for themselves; that their father was incapable of acting or planning with the least judgment. I say Ellen and Blanche, but the latter was the moving spirit in all.

Ellen Hardwicke was a pleasing-looking, dark-eyed, dark-haired woman, with little remarkable in appearance or manner; casual people were apt to forget her existence, unaware of the noble spirit within the spirit that bore trials so bravely, that shed a comforting, cheering influence around, that was full of unenvying admiration, of strong deep love, for the sister who, throughout her life, had been all in all to Ellen. Blanche returned the affection strongly, though hers was a very different nature, fiery and impulsive, with strong passions and talents of no ordinary power, joined to great decision and habits of quick invention and resource; hers was a character more fitted to battle with the world than quiet Ellen's; so gradually, as troubles increased, Blanche came to the fore, till she stood the virtual director of everything; Ralph being only too thankful to lean on her decision and fearless acceptance of responsibility-so comfortable to his feeble indolent nature-and leaving him the grand excuse, if things went wrong, of 'You told me so,' or 'Blanche said it was to be done, so I did it.'

It would take too long to tell how things grew worse and worse; how Ralph, tempted by a newspaper advertisement-offering thirty per cent flung his money into the hands of a plausible scamp, who paid the first quarter's interest, decamping before the next was due; how the plate was pawned bit by bit-Ralph could not make up his mind to sell it outright; how often they moved, selling pieces of furniture at each move, their last move being to the Heath, a cottage some dozen miles from London.

All this time the money grew less and less, till at last Ralph could only count ten pounds, and the last month's bills unpaid. Then they tried to raise money on a bill of sale of the furniture. After numerous efforts, Ralph came home (the September morning mentioned before) in despair, after a visit to the most likely moneylender, a man reputed to be enormously rich. Mr. Hardwicke sank into a chair.

'There, it's no use, he won't lend the money.'

Blanche started up.

'O, papa! it seemed all settled yesterday; why won't he now ?'