the parish and neighbourhood—a wealthy widower, without encumbrance, and with a house that was the show-place of the district-everything that Mrs. Brown could wish for in a suitor for one or other of her incomparable girls, for whom so few were worthy. He was conventionally styled a squatter, but was only so in respect of vast runs in Queensland; all his noble property of Darriwell, three miles out of Wooroona, was his own. And he had lately returned from a course of European travel, undertaken to distract his mind after Mrs. Mackenzie's death, with an apparent intention to settle himself afresh, and therefore, in the order of nature, to take a second partner when he found one to suit him.

The archdeacon's wife had marked him for her own, and so had Grace. With that loyalty to one another which was characteristic of the family, Lottie forbore to prejudice her sister's interests by any pretensions on her own account. "Only, if he should choose me instead of you, you won't expect me to refuse him, will you?" she would say sometimes in moments of confidence. And Grace did not expect it, of course, though she felt that it was an unlikely contingency; and she "played fair "with some unnecessary ostentation-being a most high-principled young lady. That he should choose

one of them was a thing settled in the household, and a thing that occupied a great deal of anxious attention. It had to be considered in connection with all other matters-even the advent of Mrs. Primrose. A curate's wife was regarded as innocuous as a woman, and as a chaperone she was expected to be invaluable. Many a little indulgence might be permitted in her company which the mother could not personally countenance without laying herself open to injurious remarks; and many a pleasant little arrangement had been suggested for the furtherance of cherished but unmentioned designs, depending entirely upon the good offices of Mrs. Primrose.

"I have been telling Mr. Mackenzie," said Grace, walking by his side towards her mother when the game was over, "that we are expecting our new curate and his wife to-night; and he says he and Mr. Primrose belong to the same college."

Mr. Mackenzie, who had arrived during her absence at the Black Swan, shook hands with his would-be mother-in-law, while she beamed upon the pair with her maternal eyes. He used to know a Harry Primrose when he was at Trinity, he said, and was told that this one was Jack, Harry's youngest brother, who had been a little schoolboy in those days. All the Primroses went to Trinity.

They were a nice family. He had once spent a Christmas at their house, and it was very jolly.

"Indeed!" Mrs. Brown responded, with her prim, company smile. "How very interesting! And what kind of boy was he?"

"A pale, lanky little scrap. We used to think him rather a muff and cry-baby; but then he was only nine or ten, and his people spoiled him. It was fifteen years ago and more. Of course, he is quite different now."

"And

"I should hope so," said Mrs. Brown. do you happen to know anything of his wife?"

"Nothing at all. Until Miss Charlotte told me this afternoon, I did not know there was such a person. It seems very absurd-little Jacky with a wife."

"Not at all," retorted Lottie.

"Why should it be absurd? I think it is very nice. We are very glad she is coming, and we are going to be very fond of her; and I hope you'll be polite, and call upon her and pay her proper attentions. If you do, we will reward you by taking her over to Darriwell as soon as we can to spend a long afternoon. You can show us the house and the gardens, and regale us with strawberries and cream. That will give her a pleasant impression of the country, to begin with.

"I shall be proud," said Mr. Mackenzie, "though I confess I don't expect much from Jack Primrose's taste. It will be very immature, I fancy."

"You wouldn't have a man of twenty-six married to an old woman, would you? We hope she will be a girl like ourselves, so that we can make a companion of her; and, of course, she will be," said Lottie. "I have made up my mind that she's charming."

"You had better stay and take tea with us," said Mrs. Brown, who had reckoned up the resources of her larder while this dialogue had been going on. "Then you will see her at once. They are to come in at nine o'clock."

Mr. Mackenzie hesitated, being a punctual and punctilious person in his own house, to be generally relied on by a reliable housekeeper, but he allowed himself to be persuaded to stay to tea. It was the first time he had done so, though he had had several invitations. His horse was put in the stable; he was taken to the archdeacon's room to wash his hands and brush his hair; and the girls put on their best dresses in his honour, while Mrs. Brown made hasty and lavish additions to the bill of fare. There was great though unacknowledged rejoicing over the event. No one believed that

Mr. Mackenzie had been induced to make himself so agreeable by the mere prospect of seeing Mrs. Primrose or of renewing his early acquaintance with the Reverend John.

And, after all, Mrs. Primrose did not appear. At nine o'clock the ladies were in the drawingroom with their guest, the archdeacon having retired to his study to look over his sermon, when the doorbell rang and Mr. Primrose was announced-only Mr. Primrose—a tall, thin, fairwhiskered, delicate-looking, gentle mannered young man, in whom Mr. Mackenzie did recognise, though with an effort, his schoolboy friend. They made him very welcome; they were glad to see him; they liked him; they kept him late, and entertained him with wine and cake and their best conversation. But they were dissatisfied with him for not bringing his wife, and with her for not coming.

"She was tired after her journey, and was not inclined to see any one," said Mr. Primrose, quite naturally. "I left her going to bed. I was sure you would not expect her to come when she was tired."

"Oh, of course not," replied Mrs. Brown; "and I suppose we shall see her some time."