have, and will, I am sure, choose a governess for
Ellinor better than I could direct you. Only
please choose some one who will not marry me
and who will let Ellinor go on making my tea,
and doing pretty much what she likes, for she is
so good they need not try to make her better,
only to teach her what a lady should know."

Miss Monro was selected— a plain, intelligent,
quiet woman of forty— and it was difficult to decide
whether she or Mr. Wilkins took the most
pains to avoid each other, acting, with regard to
Ellinor, pretty much like the famous Adam and
Eve in the weather-glass: when the one came
out, the other went in. Miss Monro had been
tossed about and overworked quite enough in
her life to value the privilege and indulgence of
her evenings to herself, her comfortable
schoolroom, her quiet cozy teas, her book, or her
letterwriting afterwards. By mutual agreement, she
did not interfere with Ellinor and her ways and
occupations on the evenings the girl had not her
father for companion; and these occasions
became more and more frequent as years passed
on, and the deep shadow was lightened which
the sudden death that had visited his household
had cast over him. He was always a popular
man at dinner-parties, as I have said before. His
amount of intelligence and accomplishment was
rare in— shire, and if it required more wine
than formerly to bring his conversation up to the
desired point of range and brilliancy, wine was
not an article spared or grudged at the county
dinner-parties. Occasionally his business took
him up to London. Hurried as these journeys
might be, he never returned without a new game,
a new toy of some kind, to "make home pleasant
to his little maid," as he expressed himself.
He liked, too, to see what was doing in art, or
in literature; and as he gave pretty extensive
orders for anything he admired, he was almost
sure to be followed down to Hamley by one or
two packages or parcels, the arrival and opening
of which began soon to form the pleasant epochs
in Ellinor's grave though happy life.

The only person of his own standing with
whom Mr. Wilkins kept up any intercourse in
Hamley was the new clergyman, a bachelor, about
his own age, a learned man, a fellow of his college,
whose first claim on Mr. Wilkins's attention
was the fact that he had been travelling-bachelor
for his university, and had consequently been on
the Continent about the very same two years that
Mr. Wilkins had been there; and although they
had never met, yet they had many common
acquaintances and common recollections to talk
over of this period, which, after all, had been
about the most bright and hopeful of Mr. Wilkins's
life.

Mr. Ness had an occasional pupil; that is to
say, he never put himself out of the way to
obtain pupils, but did not refuse the entreaties
sometimes made to him that he would prepare a
young man for college, by allowing the said young
man to reside and read with him. "Ness's men"
took rather high honours, for the tutor, too
indolent to find out work for himself, had a certain
pride in doing well the work that was found for
him.

When Ellinor was somewhere about fourteen,
a young Mr. Corbet came to be pupil to Mr.
Ness. Her father always called on the young
men reading with the clergymen, and asked them
to his house. His hospitality had in course of
time lost its recherché and elegant character, but
was always generous, and often profuse. Besides,
it was in his character to like the joyous, thoughtless
company of the young better than that of
the old, — given the same amount of refinement
and education in both.

Mr. Corbet was a young man of very good
family, from a distant county. If his character
had not been so grave and deliberate, his years
would only have entitled him to be called a boy,
for he was but eighteen at the time when he
came to read with Mr. Ness. But many men of
five-and-twenty have not reflected so deeply as
this young Mr. Corbet already had. He had
considered and almost matured his plan for life; had
ascertained what objects he desired most to
accomplish in the dim future, which is to many at
his age only a shapeless mist; and had resolved
on certain steady courses of action by which such
objects were most likely to be secured. A
younger son, his family connexions and family
interest prearranged a legal career for him; and
it was in accordance with his own tastes and
talents. All, however, that his father hoped for
him was, that he might be able to make an
income sufficient for a gentleman to live on. The
eIdest Mr. Corbet was hardly to be called
ambitious, or, if he were, his ambition was
limited to views for the eldest son. But Ralph
Corbet intended to be a distinguished lawyer,
not so much for the vision of the woolsack,
which I suppose dances before the imagination
of every young lawyer, but for the grand
intellectual exercise, and consequent power over
mankind, that distinguished lawyers may always
possess if they choose, a seat in parliament,
statesmanship, and all the great scope for a
powerful and active mind that lay on each side
of such a career— these were the objects which
Ralph Corbet set before himself. To take high
honours at college was the first step to be
accomplished;and in order to achieve this Ralph
had, not persuaded— persuasion was a weak
instrument which he despised— but gravely
reasoned his father into consenting to pay the large
sum which Mr. Ness expected with a pupil.
The good-natured old squire was rather pressed
for ready money, but sooner than listen to an
argument instead of taking his nap after dinner
he would have yielded anything. But this did
lot satisfy Ralph; his father's reason must be
convinced of the desirability of the step, as well
as his weak will give way. The squire listened,
looked wise, sighed; spoke of Edward's extravagance
and the girls' expenses, grew sleepy, and
said, "Very true," "That is but reasonable,
certainly," glanced at the door, and wondered when