" Oh, no, my lord ; it is only a coincidence,
that's all ; but the place is not far off. In
fact, I believe it is nearer than cousin Lucy
thought."

"Go on—go on," cried Lord Warleigh,
restraining himself from the display of his
unhappy temper. " What reason have you to
think so?"

"The map of the county, my lord.
Oakfield does not seem more than twenty miles
off."

"And your uncle is buried there?"

"Yes, my lord. I think of going over to
see the grave next week."

"I wish you good-morning, Mr. Benford,"
said Warleigh, suddenly, but very kindly.
"You have told me a strange piece of family
history. Good morning, too, my little dear.
What! you won't shake the old man's hand?
You look frightened, Lucy. Will you come
and see me again, Lucy Mainfield ? " He
dwelt upon the name as if it pleased him.

"No,—never," said the little girl, and
pushed Benford towards the door. " I don't
like you, and will never come again."

Benford broke out into apologies, and a
cold perspiration: "She's a naughty, little
child, my lord. Dulcibel, how can you
behave so ? Children, my lord, are so very
foolish——"

"That they speak truth even when it
is disagreeable; but I expected it, and am not
surprised. Good-day."

Soon after this a series of miracles occurred
to Mr. Benford, which filled him with
surprise. The manager of the bank at
Warleigh called on him one day, and in the most
respectful manner requested that he would
continue to keep his account, as heretofore,
with the firm. Now, the account of Mr.
Benford was not such as would seem to justify
such a request, seeing it consisted at that
moment of a balance of eighteen pounds seven
and fourpence. However, he bowed with the
politeness which a curate always displays to
a banker, and expressed his gracious intention
of continuing his patronage to Messrs.
Bulk & Looby, and the latter gentleman,
after another courteous bow, retired, leaving
the pass-book in the hands of the
gratified clergyman. He opened it; and the
first line that met his view was a credit to
the Reverend Henry Benford, of the sum of
twelve thousand six hundred pounds! On
presenting the amazing document to the
notice of his wife, that lady at first was
indignant at those vulgar tradespeople, Bulk
& Looby, venturing to play such a hoax
on a friend of Lord Warleigh. This was
now the designation by which her husband
was most respectable in the eyes of his help-
mate; and somewhat inclined to resent the
supposed insult, Benford walked down to the
bank and came to an explanation with both
the partners, in the private room. There
could be no doubt of the fact. The money
was paid in to his name, in London, and
transmitted, in the ordinary course, to his country
bankers. In fear and trembling— and merely
to put his good luck to the test —he drew a
cheque for a hundred and twenty pounds,
which was immediately honoured, —and with
these tangible witnesses to the truth of his
banker's statement, he returned to the
parsonage and poured the guineas in glittering
array upon the drawing-room table. All
attempts to discover the source of his riches
were unavailing. Messrs. Bulk & Looby
had no knowledge on the subject, and their
correspondents in town were equally unable
to say.

Then, in a week after this astounding event,
a new miracle happened, for Mr. Looby again
presented himself at the rectory, and requested
to know in whose names the money which
had arrived that morning was to be held.

"More money! " said Mr. Benford; " Oh!
put it up with the other; but really," added
the ingenuous youth, " I don't think I require
any more—"

"It isn't for you, sir, this time," said Mr.
Looby.

"I'm very glad to hear it," said Mr.
Benford, and with perfect truth.

"It's for the children; and if you will have
two trustees, the funds will be conveyed to
them at once."

Benford named two friends; and, then,
quite in a careless, uninterested manner, said,
"How much is it?"

"Twenty thousand pounds," replied Mr.
Looby, " in the five per cents. —which are now
at a hundred and two—say, twenty thousand
four hundred pounds, if we sell at once. Our
broker is Bocus of Crutched Friars."

Miss Dulcibel was an heiress, and Master
Winnington an heir! The funds were to
accumulate till they were eighteen and twenty-
one respectively, with two hundred a-year for
the maintenance and education of each.

Then, in a fortnight more, came a gentleman
whom Benford had never seen before—
a little, fat, red-faced man, so choked up in a
white neckcloth that it was evident he was
determined to look like a clergyman or perish
in the attempt. He introduced himself in a
gracious manner, and said he was a clerical
agent.

"More money? " enquired Benford, who
now seldom saw any stranger without
suspecting that he had just returned from paying
large sums to his name at the bank.

"No, sir, not money," replied the agent.

"Oh! that's odd," said Benford; " then,
may I ask what your business is with me ? "

"It is, perhaps, better than money,"
replied the little fat man, with a cough which
was intended to represent a smile. "Sir
Hildo Swilks of Somerset has heard of your
great eloquence, Mr. Benford."

"Sir Hildo is very good," said Mr. Benford
modestly; " plain common-sense is what I
aim at ——"

' The truest eloquence," rejoined the