part of the family during Mr. Saxelby's lifetime,
for he had a very strong objection to——"
Mrs. Saxelby finished the sentence in her pocket-
handkerchief.

"Not an unreasonable objection, I think,"
said Clement, almost sternly.

"You think so? You really think so? But
you ought to understand, Mr. Charlewood, that
my sister-in-law has been an excellent wife and
mother. Quite exemplary, and"—Mrs. Saxelby
blushed a little—"and she was very kind and
good to me, and to my fatherless little girl.
Mabel was almost brought up in her uncle's
family."

"Do I understand," said Clement, "that
you are asking my advice as to your answer to
Miss Earnshaw's letter?"

"Yes, indeed I am. What do you think
I ought to do?" Mrs. Saxelby crossed her
hands, and raised her soft blue eyes imploringly.

Perhaps no more subtle flattery can be
addressed to a man, than through an appeal made
to his superior wisdom and experience, by a
woman who asks his advice, and appears to
lean helplessly and reliantly on his strength.
When the appeal is made in the shape of a
great confidence, which he supposes to be
entrusted to himself alone, and when the appealer
is a still graceful and pretty woman, the
incense is so intoxicating, as to be well-nigh
irresistible.

Clement—far from being a vain man—was not
insensible to this flattery. And though Mrs.
Saxelby had just confessed her utter inability to
form a judgment for the guidance of her own
conduct, he had a confused impression at that
moment that she was a very sensible person,
and that he had never hitherto done full justice
to her discernment.

"Dear Mrs. Saxelby, I appreciate your
confidence very highly indeed, and I feel diffident
in offering advice on so delicate and important
a matter. But, since you ask me, I will frankly
tell you, that if Miss Earnshaw were my sister,
or my—my cousin—I would not hesitate to
put a decided veto upon her scheme."

"I thought so," returned Mrs. Saxelby. "I
fancied that would be your opinion. But what
am I to do with her? You see what she writes.
And after all, you know, Mr. Charlewood, her
chief anxiety is for me and Dooley."

"Miss Earnshaw is the most excellent young
lady I know. Believe me, I have the highest
admiration and—and—respect for her. But it
is the duty of her true friends to shield her from
the consequences of her own generosity and
inexperience. Of course, as her mother, you
feel that strongly."

"Mabel is not easily turned from what she
thinks right, Mr. Charlewood."

"Undoubtedly. But if this course could be
shown her to be not right?"

"Ah, how is one to, do that? I may have
my own convictions" (Mrs. Saxelby never did
have her own convictions, being always willing
to cling to other people's); "but to
persuade Mabel of their correctness—that is not so
easy."

"She would not disobey your commands?"

"No. She would not do that. She has
always been a loving and dutiful child. But
how can I have the heart to condemn her to
the hopeless drudgery she is now engaged in?
You see, she fears that her health may
absolutely give way."

"But, Mrs. Saxelby, it does not follow that all
her life need be sacrificed to this drudgery.
Surely a better position might be found for
her. And, besides: would you not like, Mrs.
Saxelby, to see your daughter, and talk to her
yourself?"

"Oh, so much! But that is out of the
question until Easter. The Christmas holidays
are just over."

"I mean, could you not run over to
Eastfield for a day? I have long been intending
to ask my friend Dooley to a bachelor
dinner. If you would come too, Mrs. Saxelby,
I should esteem it a great honour."

"To dinner?"

"Yes; at Eastfield. I have business that
will oblige me to go there, at the end of the
week. We could dine at the hotel, and I
would convey you and Dooley home in the
evening. You might thus have an opportunity
at once of speaking to Miss Earnshaw, and
conferring an obligation on me."

"You are very good; but——"

"Pray don't raise any difficulties, dear Mrs.
Saxelby. If it were summer-time, I would
bring a carriage and drive you over. But in
this weather I fear I must ask you to come by
the train. You will be warmer. And the
journey will be so much shorter for Dooley at
night."

Mrs. Saxelby hesitated only at the idea of
going to Eastfield as Clement Charlewood's
guest, for she had an uneasy sense that Mabel
would disapprove of her doing so. However,
Clement's strong purpose prevailed; as almost
any strong purpose, strongly urged, was sure
to prevail with Mrs. Saxelby. She at last
consented to accept the invitation; meanwhile, she
would write to Mabel to prepare her for the
visit, without returning any decisive answer to
her letter.

"Of course you will hold my confidence
sacred, and mention what I have said to
no one," said Mrs. Saxelby, as Clement was
about to take his leave.

"I shall certainly mention it to no one
without your express permission. I did think
at one time of asking one of my sisters to play
hostess for us at our little dinner; but, under
the circumstances of our visit to Eastfield,
you will prefer that no other person should be
asked?"

"Oh, please no. I don't want anybody to
know a word. If Miss Fluke were to hear——"

"Miss Fluke!" exclaimed Clement, with a
start. "The last person on this earth to be
thought of! If she were to speak to your
daughter on this subject—which she would not