was nothing for it but to wait patiently till it
cleared up. Even then Eric acknowledged
that it would be a day or two before the
snow would be fit for travelling. Fortunately,
Carl had materials for painting with him, so
Eric sat down and employed himself in
making a sketch of the scene with the wolves,
of the night before. Carl came and looked
over his shoulder.

"That is it," he said; "but don't you think,
Eric, it would be as well to ask Mademoiselle
Marie to sit for her portrait? It would make
the thing more complete. It really is perfect.
It is the scene itself. And the dark group of
the hounds and the wolf! I think, though,
Schwartz would not be quite satisfied with
his portrait if he saw it. Let us ask his
black seigneurie to favour us with a
sitting."

When the sisters heard what Eric was
about, they asked to be allowed to see the
picture, and Eric was obliged to finish it in
their room, where Schwartz, very gravely, sat
for his portrait. Carl made a small model of
him for Katrine, who received it with a well-
pleased smile.

"I will make one life-size for you, when I
return to Rome;" he said, "I feel in a very
industrious mood. I will have him struggling
with the wolf."

It was not to be supposed that Eric saw so
much of Marie with impunity. Whenever
their eyes met, a strange spasm passed
through his breast, and he could not even
speak to her without embarrassment. On the
afternoon of the second day, the snow had
quite ceased, and the strong easterly wind
which still remained promised to harden the
snow, so as to make it fit to tread in a few
hours. The blacksmith had repaired the
sleigh of the two sisters; he had been hard
at work in the inn-yard for an hour, and
Eric had been sketching him for Marie. It
was fixed that they should leave Stettin the
next morning. Katrine was gone to see if
Fritz was well enough to accompany them,
and had left Marie in their room reading. A.
knock was heard at the door, and Marie
said, "Come in."

The door opened and Eric appeared. When
he saw Marie alone in the room, he stood
there irresolute; not knowing whether to
advance or retreat. As Marie raised her
eyes from her book he came forward. "I—I
forgot my pencil," he said, "and we are
packing up the drawing-materials."

"Is this it?" said Marie, rising and coming
forward with it in her hands. "I found it on
the table."

Eric did not look at the pencil; he looked
at the hand, and from the hand he looked at
the face. She held out the pencil, and he
took, not the pencil only, but the hand with
it. She did not withdraw it; he felt it
tremble in his. In another moment his arm
was round her waist, and his lips were pressed
to her forehead.

"We shall meet sooner than you expect,"
said Katrine, gaily, in answer to Carl, who
asked them if they were going all the way to
Strahlen that day, when he and Eric escorted
the sisters to their sleigh next morning.
Marie was silent; but, when Eric tucked
the warm furs round her, the smile she gave
him, said something for all that.

CHIP.

PASTOR RHADAMANTHUS.

THE Reverend Pastor Rhadamanthus lives
in a pit village among the colliers; and, as rector
of his parish, receives only about two hundred
and fifty pounds a-year for the care of
upwards of eight thousand souls. He is, of
course, unable to afford a curate, and has all
the parish work to do himself. This rector
is an amiable man; who, to increase his
influence among the people, and give himself,
as he supposed, a position in society higher
than that of parish clergyman, sought and
obtained an appointment upon the commission
of the peace. He shines, therefore, as
the Reverend Justice Rhadamanthus. He
devotes the whole of his time, with exemplary
diligence, to the discharge of those duties
which he considers most consistent with
his dignity; attends to his business as a
county magistrate in all sorts of places; never
misses a meeting of the bench; but ministers
little, or not at all, to the sick; neglects
his parish schools, and preaches every week
in a parish of eight thousand to a congregation
of one hundred.

This case has been stated to us by a
correspondent, who would like to know whether
any good comes of the labours of clergymen
who mix themselves up magisterially
with the quarrels and heart-burnings of their
districts? any good, that is to say, at all
proportioned to the harm that follows from the
loss of their position as good shepherds of the
flock, ever more ready to teach than to
punish. Our correspondent asks to be
informed whether it is worth while to have the
Christian guide lost in the worldly judge?

In manufacturing and mining districts,
where the number is small, of persons
who have wealth and leisure that ensure
both local influence and opportunity of taking
pains to become qualified for and to be diligent
in attendance upon petty and quarter
sessions; surely, our friend thinks, it would
be better that the judicial function should be
entrusted to stipendiary magistrates than to
the local clergy; or, as in corporate towns, to
the tradesmen who are inextricably involved
among the personal concerns and interests
of friends, parishioners, and customers.
But of all men, the most unfitted, to do
service in any sort of judicial court,—except
the one that almost every land except Great
Britain has—namely, a court of reconcilement
for the stoppage of dissension,—is the
parish clergyman. The pastor may teach