"You can, of course, act as you please in this respect, Ada; but I must say, a confession like yours speaks badly for preacher and services: they must be monotonous, or your attention would not flag."

Herbert, this is not right of you.

The fault is surely in myself. It is my own evil heart which leads me wrong, and not the minister or the services." "My darling, no! Mankind are not as corrupt as some people would try to make out.

You go to church; you hear a stupid sermon on a subject you have heard hundreds of times before; you fall asleep, or think of other things, and come away no better: therefore, I say, stay at home at once, rather than pretend an interest which you do not feel.”

"I do think it is very wrong to talk in this way. You know, Herbert, services must necessarily be alike to some extent, because the way to be holy is always the same. And although we may have heard sermons very much alike thousands of times, I ask you candidly, Have we individually ever profited by them? Can we say that we have ever truly repented, truly believed? Are we holy?" exclaimed Ada, suddenly rising and kneeling by her brother's side. Sufficiently so, I dare say. But what makes you take up these subjects so seriously? You are quite an enthusiast, Ada! And here have you led me into a religious discussion, and wandered far from the real object of our conversation."

66

"You want to change the subject, I know; but if Ethel were with us, she would most like to converse on these things. All true Christians are anxious for the salvation of others," replied Ada.

"At all events, you have made as many practical observations as I can do with to-night, Ada," said Herbert, rather gravely.

"But I asked the question for my own benefit, as well as yours.”

"And if I do not wish to discuss the matter further ?"

“I cannot force you to do so, certainly. But I do not think you should trifle with such a subject.”

"But why have you taken it up so energetically?" "The other day I took up a Bible which lay on my dressing-table (I see Mrs. Lambert has put one in every room up-stairs), I was waiting for Laurence before I dressed. I read several chapters, one more especially, where we are taught that we must be born again. Now, I had learnt that chapter at school; but I did it as a punishment one day. Mrs. Ellison always gave us the Bible to learn when we had done wrong,—a fact which, up to the present time, inspired me with quite a repugnance to it. None of the truths I had read there ever fixed my attention, until the other day, when some startling things entered my mind, and I have really felt very uncomfortable ever since."

“How absurd! Lambert must be spoken to for introducing her methodistical ways into the house, and making you miserable.”

"Lambert is a good old woman, and very anxious for her master and mistress's present and future welfare."

"She might leave them to look after their own interests.”

“Oh, Herbert, don't speak in that manner! I feel that we are both careless and irreligious, and I do wish we were different,” exclaimed Ada, tears coming into her eyes.

"Do you? Well, dear Ada, that conviction has

not entered my mind yet, therefore do not include me in that expressive ‘we.’”

Raymond spoke playfully, but his words fell heavily on his sister's ear. They had always been one in thought before; now a wide gulf seemed to have opened between them. Ada's hope was gone that Herbert would have studied the Bible with her. She was unhappy in her conviction of sin, and no one was there to direct her, and tears quickly fell from her eyes; which, when Herbert perceived, he drew her kindly to him, and endeavoured by every means in his power to soothe her; but Ada exclaimed, petulantly,

"No, Herbert, we can have no sympathy together; I must seek it elsewhere."

“I did not think you would have said so, Ada. Come, do be my own sister again, or I shall really hate the name of religion if it separates us," he said, very gently.

His mildness softened Ada, who put her arms lovingly round his neck, and they were seemingly united. But the blank in poor Ada's heart remained unfilled, though she strove to hide her wounded feelings by retiring early, that her brother might not witness the sorrowful thoughts his words had called forth.

CHAPTER VII.

"I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano;
A stage, where every man must play his part."
Merchant of Venice.

“Give me enough, not more, saving for the children of distress. Each man should ask his neighbour, and yield to him again concession.

Terms ill defined, and forms misunderstood, and customs,

Where their reasons are unknown,

Have stirred up many jealous souls to fight against imaginary giants."— M. TUPPER.

“Do not forget to call on Miss Grant this morning, girls," said Mr. Woodville the following day, as he put in his head at the dining-room door before his departure to his office.

“No! we are going in an hour or two,” Laura replied, indifferently, as she added a few finishing touches to her bonnet, which she was re-trimming for Miss Grant's benefit. Ethel's reply was not needed; and as she was busy bending over Minnie's lessonbook, Mr. Woodville did not observe the blood which rushed tumultuously to her face, and how her lips compressed at the remembrance of the scene on the preceding day.

At the proper time, however, she was ready to accompany Laura, in order to meet her father's wishes.

Miss Grant gave them an overpoweringly civil reception, even claiming a kiss on the score of her lengthened acquaintance with their parents. Such a friendship!' thought Ethel, as the kiss from the 'friend's' lips seemed to burn her cheek; but with a powerful effort she endeavoured to overcome her aversion, and suppress the rising feeling of indignation, with the charitable hope that time might have changed Miss Grant. But long ere the interview closed, the conviction was forced upon Ethel that she was the same unchanged being of former years.

Miss Grant was a remarkably young-looking person for her age, and might have been supposed under thirty, instead of above forty-as she really was. There was a blithe youthfulness in her manner when she chose, and an apparently warm interest in the affairs of others, which gave her a certain degree of fascination to those who had not discernment to see through the cloak of deceit which she wore. This cordiality and seeming pleasure in their society quickly won Laura over to believe her all that was charming. She had no power to penetrate through Miss Grant's disguise, having no perceptive qualities to view her as she really was. There was a lurking satire, a designing cordiality, a cat-like affection, so to speak, and a want of sincerity in all she said and did, which Ethel very soon discovered.

Miss Grant was not without considerable powers of discrimination, as well as Ethel; and Laura's love of admiration soon became apparent, as did Ethel's indifference to it. Acting upon her convictions, she had told Laura, before she had been ten minutes in the room, that she had the loveliest face and the most brilliant complexion she had ever seen, and