country squires, been dreary enough
all these years, but this misery and disgrace
must come to crush him utterly ? Maud
was trembling, and distressed beyond
measure. Mr. Plew remained passive.
Presently the vicar, who had been walking
about the room, ceased speaking ; and,
throwing himself into a chair, he covered
his eyes with his hands.

Then Mr. Plew turned to Maud, and
said, " Miss Desmond, I am glad you came
in before I went away; for I came chiefly
to see you. I have a message to deliver to
you from my mother."

He spoke quite quietly, only his face
betrayed the agitation and pain which the
vicar's tirade had caused him.

"A message from Mrs. Plew? What is
it?" said Maud, trying to echo his steady
tone.

"My mother hopes you will excuse the
liberty she takes in asking you, but she is
almost entirely unable to go out now. Very
often she can't get as far as the church for
weeks together. As she cannot go to see
you, will you come to see her, Miss
Desmond? It will be a charitable action."

"Surely I will, if she wishes it."

"She does wish it. Poor soul! she has
not many pleasures, and makes, of course,
no new friends. The sight of your kind
face would do her good."

"When shall I come?"

"Would you drink tea with her this
evening? I will see you safe home."

"I don't know whether—" Maud was
beginning hesitatingly, when the vicar interposed.

"Go, go, Maudie," he said. " I see that
you are hesitating on my account. But I
would rather that you went, my child. I
shall be busy this evening."

Thus urged, Maud consented, promising
to be at Mr. Plew's cottage by six o'clock.
And then the surgeon took his leave. Maud
was surprised to see the vicar shake hands
with him, and bid him good-bye, as
unconcernedly as though no harsh or
unpleasant word had passed his lips. But as
she walked to Mr. Plew's cottage that
evening with Joanna, Maud learned from
the lips of the old servant that it was
no new thing for her guardian to be what
Joanna called " crabby" with Mr. Plew.

"Lord bless you, Miss Maudie, don't I
know, don't I see it all, think ye? I'm
old enough to be your grandmother, Miss
Maudie, my dear. And you mark my
words, that little man, for all his soft ways,
and bein' in some respects but a poor creetur,
he's gone through a deal for the vicar.

He has his own troubles, has Mr. Plew,
and it isn't for me to say anything about
them. But I do declare as I never see any
mortal bear with another as he bears with
the vicar, except it was a woman, of course,
you know, Miss Maudie. A woman'll do
as much for them as she's fond of. But to
see his patience, and the way he'd come
evening after evening, whenever his sick
folk could spare him, and talk, or be talked
to, and never say a word about hisself, but
go on letting the vicar fancy as he was the
worst used and hardest put upon mortal in
the world— which the poor master, he
seemed to take a kind of pride in it, if you
can make that out, Miss Maudie. Lord
bless you, my dear, it was for all the world
like a woman! For a man in general
won't have the sense to pretend a bit, even
if he loves you ever so!"

Mrs. Plew received Maud with many
demonstrations of gratification at her visit,
and many apologies for having troubled
her to come and spend a dull evening with
a lonely old woman. Mrs. Plew was rather
like her son in person, mild-eyed, fair and
small. She was somewhat of an invalid,
and sat all day long, sewing or knitting,
in her big chair, and casting an intelligent
eye over the household operations of the
little orphan from the workhouse, who
was her only servant. She wore a big
cap, with a muslin frill framing her face
all round, and a "front" of false hair,
which resembled nothing so much, both in
colour and texture, as the outside fibres of
a cocoa-nut. Maud could scarcely repress
a smile as she looked at the meek figure
before her, and recalled Miss Turtle's
grandiloquent comparisons. The surgeon
was not able to be at home for tea. His
portion of home-made cake, and a small
pot of strawberry jam, were put ready for
him on a small round table, covered with
a snow-white cloth. The little servant was
instructed to keep the kettle " on the boil,"
so that when her master should return, a
cup of hot, fragrant tea should be prepared
for him without delay.

"There," said Mrs. Plew, contemplating
these arrangements, " that'll be all nice for
Benjy. He likes strawberry jam better
than anything you could give him. I
always have some in the house."

Maud felt that it was somehow right and
characteristic that Mr. Plew should be fond
of strawberry jam, although she would have
been puzzled to say why. Then the old
woman sat down with a great web of