the kind, commonplace neighbourly faces, whose presence she could command, had the power to dissipate it, began to feel that she must have some change of scene if she was to carry out, even for a time, her mother's wish that she should fill her place in 'the Gift.' That she would be permitted to do so, she knew. Her capacity, her zeal, and her steadiness were so well known that the authorities had consented to waive small bird, of common dun-coloured appearance, belonging to some hardy species, uninfluenced by the hardship of life and the severity of the season, was chirping loudly, on the extreme edge of the lowest bough of the ash-tree; 'without a sorrow in his song, or a winter in his year.' While she waited for the answer to her letter, Alice's spirits, wayward and uncertain now, with the variations in her health, the objection of her youth. Her mother sunk again, and the agitation and restlesshad left her all she possessed, the savings ness she betrayed would have been painful of years of toil - a small sum, as those to witness if any loving eyes had been there who have always possessed it estimate to see them. But the only eyes which had money, but enough to keep her from want, if employment failed her. The doctor who had attended her mother was interested in Alice, and urged her to seek change of scene. None of their few acquaintance were aware of the utter isolation of the widow and her child, and the doctor had no notion of the difficulties in the way of his advice being acted on. Her own feelings, the growing helplessness which oppressed her, the fear of her health breaking down, though powerful and present with her, could not conquer the timidity and the reticence of Alice's nature. The girl could not bring herself to tell these kind strangers that she possessed no friends, that the only tie which now united her to her kind, existed between her and a young man to whom she hoped in time to be married. Alice did the only thing which, under the circumstances, she could do, - she wrote to Henry Hurst, and asked his advice. Her letter was the most explicit, as regarded herself, she had ever written to him, and expressed, more strongly than she had ever yet put it in words, the complete dependence and unwavering trust she felt in him, the calm, uninterrupted sense of identity with the beloved one, which is the highest and holiest interpretation of love, but which cannot be entertained without some scruple, fear, or misgiving, by any mind less perfectly preserved from contact with the world than was that of Alice Wood. The day on which Alice's letter was written was the first in that year on which the grip which winter had laid on the earth was relaxed, and the relief which the writing it occasioned her made itself felt physically. She went out and walked in the clear air, and noticed the innumerable changes in the face of Nature, invisible except to those who loved it as she loved it, and were wont ever watched Alice with observant love were forever closed; and the girl watched, and waited, and suffered alone. She had only the vaguest notions of what form her lover's advice to her would take; it had never remotely occurred to her that the tone of her letter was such as to put him into almost the necessity of asking her to marry him at once, though to any third party this would have been apparent. It was therefore without the least suspicion of its contents, without the slightest thrill of doubt, or any feeling but relief and pleasure, that Alice opened her lover's letter and perused the first sentences, expressive of the warmest affection and sympathy. But as she read on, her eyes dilated, her cheek flushed, her breath came short and hurriedly. For Henry Hurst asked - or rather, so little of counsel, so much of command was there in his letter, required - Alice to marry him at once, as soon as he could make the necessary arrangements. He dwelt upon her solitude, upon its effect upon her health, and the uselessness of her leaving Coventry to go among strangers with any hope of deriving benefit from the change. Then he pleaded his own cause, and hers, with her. He could not come to her, would have no right to come if he could, and would but render her position difficult and equivocal if he did, or if any one who knew them could associate him in any way with her, as her mother had unhappily died without recognising his right to constitute himself the arbiter of her destiny. In all the world she had only him to care for and consult and live for, and he only her. Why should she not become his wife now, when his love and protection, his society and care, were more than ever precious and needful to her, and when the old life had entirely passed away? With many urgent words of love, so to study it. She went into the church- with ardent protestations, he pleaded with yard on her way back to the house, and the the girl, and her own heart, full of love and snow lay no longer on her mother's grave. loneliness, eagerly seconded his prayer. Some tender, tiny shoots of green were He would not urge her, he said, to anything showing above the bare brown sods, and a which might seem to her sensitiveness like 46 disrespect to her mother's memory; what | letter caused Alice to feel, the pain which this of disrespect could there be in their quiet peremptory direction gave her was keen marriage, and beginning of their humble, keen when she first read it; before she had tranquil, laborious life together? Her moth- fully realised all the proposition made to er had most desired her welfare, her happi- her signified and included - when she felt it ness; had she any doubt that thus they would be secured? Would she withdraw the trust she had placed in him, the love she had given him, the promise on which he had lived so long? After much eloquent and passionate argument, he proceeded to take her consent for granted, and to give her directions about her movements. with merely a remorseful pang at the seeming ingratitude of which obedience must make her guilty. She had not seen Mr. Eliot Foster for several years, but she remembered his kindness to her in her childhood; and she knew that from the time of her father's death until she and her mother went to Coventry, he had been their only friend. Distant as the kinship was, too. he was the only relative, so far as she was of utterly aware, remaining to her; and there was it, something dreary in the feeling He laid great stress upon his wish that Alice should break off all communication with Coventry, and all connection with her former life. Not that he was ashamed of irl's natural shrinking from the dimly-seen trait in her lover's disposition which this requiremen at indicated. nent far from that; but he hoped and intended renouncing him. Under all this, there was to acquire for her the position in life for the gentle girl's which her beauty, her grace, and her goodness fitted her so well; and he preferred that nothing of the origin of either of them should be known to his present or future associates. He wished that she should take leave of the few persons whom she knew as if for a short time, merely saying that she How long Alice hesitated about acquiescing in Henry Hurst's wishes, about yielding implicit obedience to his commands or if she really hesitated at all, but did not feel in the secret depths of her heart a now or ever. was going to friends in London, and should power stronger than feeling, than opinion, then send, from the address which he gave than circumstances, than even will, drawing her, and where he told her she should find her on, telling her that this was to be, must everything prepared for her, a formal resig- be- she could not have told nation of her situation. He directed that An indefinite period of surprise, of shock, she should take with her to London all her of agony, then the coming of a sense of relittle possessions of whatever kind, and lief, then security, combined with such love leave everything in order for her successor, and hope as seemed to lift her, by some without making it necessary that she should charm of magic, from the depth of grief and be referred to in any way. The minuteness desolation into which she had sunk; utter deand accuracy of the instructions which pendence upon her lover, perfect confidence Henry Hurst sent Alice, proved that he had in his wisdom and his love, the complete the faculty of knowing what he was about, surrender of herself to his guidance and disand of organising the best plan of doing posal - those were the gradations in the He laid spe- mental history of Alice Wood, during the anything he was bent upon. Amid the conflicting emotions which this week which elapsed before she was obliged to act upon the directions which Henry Hurst had given her. Alice experienced no material difficulty in carrying out her lover's instructions. There was no one to interfere with her, and she was evidently so much better, in both health and spirits, that the interest felt in her by her neighbours began naturally to decline. On a clear, bright, frosty morning, when the spires were glistening, and the grand outlines of the ancient churches were defined against the cold blue of the sky with sharp distinctness, Alice took leave of her old home. She had visited every haunt for days before, and passed hours in the church, in her accustomed nook, where the afternoon sun in the summer shone through the great windows, where the smashed remnants of the old coloured glass were patched together in a formless combination which did but prolong and deepen the effect of former desecration and ruin. No sunshine was there now, and the place was cold and dreary to Alice. She had no sense of realising that this was a final parting with all her old surroundings, but so something oppressed her heavily on this day, and made her wish that heavily this keen trial-though she did not spare herself a detail of it, knowing that when she should be far away, such sparing would seem to her ingratitude and neglect - were over. On the morning of her departure she visited but one memorial spot. It was her mother's grave. Alice had lured many birds to the place by freely-spread crumb-banquets; and she had a numerous attendance of pensioners on that occasion. When should she see that grave again? She could not tell, indeed; but she had no serious thought that it might thoughtful solemnity which filled the young girl's mind, there was deep joy and thankfulness in her heart. Solitude and uncertainty would soon cease now, and the realisation of all her dreams was at hand. It seemed a little strange and sad that all her regrets were for the inanimate things among which she had lived. There were few people of whom she should think long. If Hugh Gaynor had been at Beckthorpe she would have seen him and told him all; Henry had not mentioned his name, and she never imagined that he had intended his general prohibition to extend to him; but Hugh was absent. To Alice Wood, her very simplicity and ignorance of the world acted as a protection against the nervousness and embarrassment which her solitary journey might have other be never. Was there to be a long and happy wise occasioned her. She had none of the surprise and interest; and at its termination she was met and greeted by Henry Hurst. It is not known to numismatists that more than | travellers the sickly horrors of even the short two specimens of the gold florin of Edward III. sea passage." are in existence. Of these, one is in the British Museum; the other was knocked down at a sale the other day for £113. It is reported from Smyrna that Mr. Dennis will begin operations in the tombs of the Lydian kings at Sardis, many of which have long since been rifled. THE speech-day at Harrow passed off very satisfactorily. Mr. Longfellow was among the visitors. The Latin essay for the Peel medal was a lively and accurate narrative of the Abyssinian campaign. One of Longfellow's poems was recited in the presence of the author. THE Italian papers record the death of Professor Matteucci. The deceased was an Italian senator and Minister of Pubke Instruction; but was better known as a man of science and a voluminous writer on physical science, his works being well known and esteemed in this country. A REPORT has been published by Mr. Macassey, C. E., and Mr. Scott, C. E., on a proposed railway tunnel between Scotland and Ireland. The Northern Whig adds, “We cannot pronounce any opinion as to the feasibility of the scheme, though the two authors of this report, after having, as they say, thoroughly investigated the matter, have no doubt as to its practicability. A QUEER little book published in Paris gives As, however, the possibility of making a tunnel the singular origins of many modern men of talfrom Dover to Calais has been seriously thought ent. Halevy's father was a grocer; Rossini is the of, it is not altogether unnatural that there should be a proposition to make a railway tunnel to join Scotland and Ireland, and save squeamish son of strolling players; Verdi, of an innkeeper; Auber was born behind a printshop; and the parents of Victor Masse sold nails. disrespect to her mother's memory; what | letter caused Alice to feel, the pain which this of disrespect could there be in their quiet peremptory direction gave her was keen marriage, and beginning of their humble, keen when she first read it; before she had tranquil, laborious life together? Her moth- fully realised all the proposition made to er had most desired her welfare, her happi- her signified and included when she felt it ness; had she any doubt that thus they with merely a remorseful pang at the seemwould be secured? Would she withdraw ing ingratitude of which obedience must the trust she had placed in him, the love make her guilty. She had not seen Mr. Elshe had given him, the promise on which he iot Foster for several years, but she rememhad lived so long? After much eloquent bered his kindness to her in her childhood; and passionate argument, he proceeded to and she knew that from the time of her take her consent for granted, and to give father's death until she and her mother her directions about her movements. went to Coventry, he had been their only friend. Distant as the kinship was, too. he was the only relative, so far as she was aware, remaining to her; and there was something dreary in the feeling of utterly renouncing him. Under all this, there was the gentle girl's natural shrinking from the dimly-seen trait in her lover's disposition which this requirement indicated. How long Alice hesitated about acquiescing in Henry Hurst's wishes, about yielding implicit obedience to his commands — or if she really hesitated at all, but did not feel in the secret depths of her heart a power stronger than feeling, than opinion, than circumstances, than even will, drawing her on, telling her that this was to be, must be- she could not have told now or ever. An indefinite period of surprise, of shock, of agony, then the coming of a sense of relief, then security, combined with such love and hope as seemed to lift her, by some charm of magic, from the depth of grief and desolation into which she had sunk; utter dependence upon her lover, perfect confidence in his wisdom and his love, the complete surrender of herself to his guidance and disposal those were the gradations in the mental history of Alice Wood, during the week which elapsed before she was obliged to act upon the directions which Henry Hurst had given her. He laid great stress upon his wish that Alice should break off all communication with Coventry, and all connection with her former life. Not that he was ashamed of it, far from that; but he hoped and intended to acquire for her the position in life for which her beauty, her grace, and her goodness fitted her so well; and he preferred that nothing of the origin of either of them should be known to his present or future associates. He wished that she should take leave of the few persons whom she knew as if for a short time, merely saying that she was going to friends in London, and should then send, from the address which he gave her, and where he told her she should find everything prepared for her, a formal resignation of her situation. He directed that she should take with her to London all her little possessions of whatever kind, and leave everything in order for her successor, without making it necessary that she should be referred to in any way. The minuteness and accuracy of the instructions which Henry Hurst sent Alice, proved that he had the faculty of knowing what he was about, and of organising the best plan of doing anything he was bent upon. He laid special stress, in a paragraph of his letter which she read with some pain, though without the misgiving which it would have excited in a less trusting mind, on his desire that she Alice experienced no material difficulty should not communicate with Mr. Eliot in carrying out her lover's instructions. Foster. He owes me nothing now, and I There was no one to interfere with her, and owe him nothing,' he wrote; and I do not she was evidently so much better, in both choose him to know anything about me or health and spirits, that the interest felt in my affairs. You can have no reason, now her by her neighbours began naturally to dethat your poor mother is no more, for hold-cline. On a clear, bright, frosty morning, ing any communication with him. You will never need any one's assistance, I hope, in future. If we are to be poor, and to have to struggle, we shall be poor together, and get through it as best we can, making no one the wiser, and incurring no obligations. I am under none to him, and could not endure even such an offer of service from him as he might make, if he knew that your future was involved with mine.' Amid the conflicting emotions which this when the spires were glistening, and the grand outlines of the ancient churches were defined against the cold blue of the sky with sharp distinctness, Alice took leave of her old home. She had visited every haunt for days before, and passed hours in the church, in her accustomed nook, where the afternoon sun in the summer shone through the great windows, where the smashed remnants of the old coloured glass were patched together in a formless combination which did her regrets were for the inanimate things among which she had lived. There were few people of whom she should think long. If Hugh Gaynor had been at Beckthorpe she would have seen him and told him all; Henry had not mentioned his name, and she never imagined that he had intended his general prohibition to extend to him; but Hugh was absent. but prolong and deepen the effect of former thoughtful solemnity which filled the young 47 desecration and ruin. there now, and the place was cold and dreary | fulness in her heart. Solitude and uncerNo sunshine was girl's mind, there was deep joy and thankto Alice. She had no sense of realising that tainty would soon cease now, and the rethis was a final parting with all her old sur-alisation of all her dreams was at hand. roundings, but something oppressed her It seemed a little strange and sad that all heavily on this day, and made her wish that this keen trial-though she did not spare herself a detail of it, knowing that when she should be far away, such sparing would seem to her ingratitude and neglect -were over. On the morning of her departure she visited but one memorial spot. It was her mother's grave. Alice had lured many birds to the place by freely-spread crumb-banquets; and she had a numerous attendance of pensioners on that occasion. When should she see that grave again? She could not tell, indeed; but she had no serious thought that it might be never. Was there to be a long and happy lapse of life for her, the girl thought, before she should be laid there with her mother, as she had said, in the end? Long? perhaps not. Happy? certainly. Who could doubt that? Was she not to be Henry's wife, and to share his life, as she had shared it when they were children, but in a deeper, dearer, more serious sense? With all the ignorance of the world acted as a protection To Alice Wood, her very simplicity and against the nervousness and embarrassment which her solitary journey might have otherwise occasioned her. She had none of the knowledge which justifies fear, and none of the sophistication which renders independent action difficult. When her mind was at all diverted from the hope and prospect upon which it was concentrated, she regarded the little incidents of her journey with pleased surprise and interest; and at its termination she was met and greeted by Henry Hurst. Ir is not known to numismatists that more than | travellers the sickly horrors of even the short two specimens of the gold florin of Edward III. sea passage." are in existence. Of these, one is in the British Museum; the other was knocked down at a sale the other day for £113. Ir is reported from Smyrna that Mr. Dennis will begin operations in the tombs of the Lydian kings at Sardis, many of which have long since been rifled. A REPORT has been published by Mr. Macassey, C. E., and Mr. Scott, C. E., on a proposed railway tunnel between Scotland and Ireland. The Northern Whig adds, "We cannot pronounce any opinion as to the feasibility of the scheme, though the two authors of this report, after having, as they say, thoroughly investigated the matter, have no doubt as to its practicability. As, however, the possibility of making a tunnel from Dover to Calais has been seriously thought of, it is not altogether unnatural that there should be a proposition to make a railway tunnel to join Scotland and Ireland, and save squeamish THE speech-day at Harrow passed off very satisfactorily. Mr. Longfellow was among the visitors. The Latin essay for the Peel medal was campaign. One of Longfellow's poems was recited a lively and accurate narrative of the Abyssinian in the presence of the author. THE Italian papers record the death of Prosenator and Minister of Public Instruction; but fessor Matteucci. The deceased was an Italian was better known as a man of science and a voluminous writer on physical science, his works being well known and esteemed in this country. the singular origins of many modern men of tal- |