before he came. Now she could only wait till be should again have got strength to hide his suffering under the veil of his own manliness. "I have not a word to say against what you are doing," he said at last; "not a word. But you will understand what I mean when I tell you that it is not likely that you will come to Plaistow." "Šome day, Will, when you have a wife of your own "Very well; but we won't talk about that at present, if you please. When I have, things will be different. In the mean time your course and mine will be separate. You, I suppose, will be with him in London, while I shall be, at the devil as likely as not." "How can you speak to me in that way? Is that like being my brother?" "I don't feel like being your brother. However, I beg your pardon, and now we will have done with it. Spilt milk can't be helped, and my milk pans have got themselves knocked over. That's all. Don't you think we ought to go up to your father again?" about herself, and Clara would at any rate see whether her cousin would, of his own accord, introduce the subject. But three days passed by, and he had made no allusion to the cottage or its inhabitants. This in itself was singular, as the Askertons were the only local friends whom Clara knew, and as Belton had become personally ac quainted with Mrs. Askerton. But such was the case; and when Mr. Amedroz once said something about Mrs. Askerton in the presence of both Clara and Belton, they both of them shrank from the subject in a manner that made Clara understand that any conversation about the Askertons was to be avoided. On the fourth day Clara saw Mrs. Askerton, but then Will Belton's name was not mentioned. There was therefore, among them all, a sense of some mystery which made them uncomfortable, and which seemed to admit of no solution. Clara was more sure than ever that her cousin had made no inquiries that he should not have made, and that he would put no information that he might have to an improper use. But of such certainty on her part she could say nothing. On the following day Belton and Mr. Three weeks passed by, and it seemed as Amedroz discussed the same subject, but though Belton's visit were to come to an end the conversation went off very quietly. without any further open trouble. Now Will was determined not to exhibit his weak- and then something was said about Captain ness before the father as he had done before Aylmer; but it was very little, and Belton the daughter. When the squire with a made no further reference to his own feelmaundering voice drawled out some ex-ings. It had come to be understood that his pression of regret that his daughter's choice had not fallen in another place, Will was able to say that bygones must be bygones. He regretted it also, but that was now over. And when the squire endeavoured to say a few ill-natured words about Captain Aylmer, Will stopped him at once by asserting that the Captain was all that he ought to be. "And it would have made me so happy to think that my daughter's child should come to live in his grandfather's old house," murmured Mr. Amedroz. "And there's no knowing that he mayn't do so yet," said Will. "But all these things are so doubtful that a man is wrong to fix his happiness upon them." After that he went out to ramble about the place, and before the third day was over Clara was able to perceive that, in spite of what he had said, he was as busy about the cattle as though his bread depended on them. Nothing had been said as yet about the Askertons, and Clara had resolved that their name should not first be mentioned by her. Mrs. Askerton had prophesied that Will would have some communication to make visit was to be limited to a month, and to both him and Clara the month wore itself away slowly, neither of them having much pleasure in the society of the other. The old squire came downstairs once for an hour or two, and spent the whole time in bitter complaints. Everything was wrong, and everybody was ill-treating him. Even with Will he quarrelled, or did his best to quarrel, in regard to everything about the place, though at the same time he did not cease to grumble at his visitor for going away and leaving him. Belton bore it all so well that the grumbling and quarrelling did not lead to much; but it required all his good humour and broad common sense to prevent serious troubles and misunderstanding. During the period of her cousin's visit at Belton, Clara received two letters from Captain Aylmer, who was spending the Christmas holidays with his father and mother, and on the day previous to that of her cousin's departure there came a third. In neither of these letters was there much said about Sir Anthony, but they were all very full of Lady Aylmer. In the first he wrote with something of the personal enthu Re "When I told her of your father's long illness, which she laments greatly, and of your cousin's continued presence at Belton Castle, she seemed to think that Mr. Belton's visit should not be prolonged. When I told her that he was your nearest relative, she remarked that cousins are the same as any other people, — which indeed they are. I know that my Clara will not suppose that I mean more by this than the words convey. Indeed, I mean less. But not having the advantage of a mother of your own, you will not be sorry to know what are my mother's opinions on matters which so nearly concern you. siasm of a lover, and therefore Clara hardly in their mode of answering letters. felt the little drawbacks to her happiness member, therefore, that I am now your which were contained in certain inuendoes guarantee, and send some message to relieve respecting Lady Aylmer's ideas, and Lady me from my liability. Aylmer's hopes, and Lady Aylmer's fears. Clara was not going to marry Lady Alymer, and did not fear but that she could hold her own against any mother-in-law in the world when once they should be brought face to face. And as long as Captain Aylmer seemed to take her part rather than that of his mother, it was all very well. The second letter was more trying to her temper, as it contained one or two small morsels of advice as to conduct which had evidently originated with her ladyship. Now there is nothing, I take it, so irritating to an engaged young lady as counsel from her intended husband's mamma. An engaged young lady, if she be really in love, will take almost anything from her lover as long as she is sure that it comes altogether from himself. He may take what liberties he pleases with her dress. He may prescribe high church or low church, -if he be not, as is generally the case, in a condition to accept, rather than to give, prescriptions on that subject. He may order almost any course of reading, -providing that he supply the books. And he may even interfere with the style of dancing, and recommend or prohibit partners. But he may not thrust his mother down his future wife's throat. In answer to the second letter, Clara did not say much to show her sense of objection. Indeed, she said nothing. But in saying nothing she showed her objection, and Captain Aylmer understood it. Then came the third letter, and as it contained matter touching upon our story, it shall be given entire, and I hope it may be taken by gentlemen about to marry as a fair specimen of the sort of letter they ought not to write to the girls of their hearts: "Aylmer Castle, 19th January, 186"DEAREST CLARA,-I got your letter of the 16th yesterday, and was sorry you said nothing in reference to my mother's ideas as to the house at Perivale. Of course she knew that I heard from you, and was disappointed when I was obliged to tell her that you had not alluded to the subject. She is very anxious about you, and, having now given her assent to our marriage, is of course desirous of knowing that her kindly feeling is reciprocated. I assured her that my own Clara was the last person to be remiss in such a matter, and reminded her that young ladies are seldom very careful "And now I come to another subject, as to which what I shall say will surprise you very much. You know, I think, that my aunt Winterfield and I had some conversation about your neighbours, the Askertons; and you will remember that my aunt, whose ideas on such matters were always correct, was a little afraid that your father had not made sufficient inquiry respecting them before he allowed them to settle near him as tenants. It now turns out that she is,very far, indeed, from what she ought to be. My mother at first thought of writing to you about this; but she is a little fatigued, and at last resolved that under all the circumstances it might be as well that I should tell you. It seems that Mrs. Askerton was married before to a certain Captain Berdmore, and that she left her first husband during his lifetime under the protection of Colonel Askerton. I believe they, the Colonel and Mrs. Askerton, have been since married. Captain Berdmore died about four years ago in India, and it is probable that such a marriage has taken place. But under these circumstances, as Lady Aylmer says, you will at once perceive that all acquaintance between you and the lady should be brought to an end. Indeed your own sense of what is becoming to you, either as an unmarried girl or as my future wife, or indeed as a woman at all, will at once make you feel that this must be so. I think, if I were you, I would tell the whole to Mr. Amedroz; but this I will leave to your own discretion. I can assure you that Lady Aylmer has full proof as to the truth of what I tell you. "I go up to London in February. I suppose may hardly hope to see you before the recess in July or August; but I trust that be I fore that we shall have fixed the day when Captain Aylmer had done so, and she was hardly surprised at his doing it. Yet Captain Aylmer was the man she loved! Captain Aylmer was the man she had promised to marry. But, in truth, she hardly knew which was the man she loved! church she bowed to him, and that was all they saw of each other throughout the month that he remained in Somersetshire. It was a disagreeable, nasty letter from the first line to the last. There was not a This letter came on a Sunday morning, word in it which did not grate against and on that day she and Belton went to Clara's feelings, not a thought expressed church together. On the following mornwhich did not give rise to fears as to her fu- ing early he was to start for Taunton. At ture happiness. But the information which church they saw Mrs. Askerton, whose atit contained about the Askertons, "the tendance there was not very frequent. It communication," as Mrs. Askerton herself seemed, indeed, as though she had come would have called it,-made her for the with the express purpose of seeing Belton moment almost forget Lady Aylmer and once during his visit. As they left the her insolence. Could this story be true? | And if true, how far would it be imperative on her to take the hint, or rather obey the order which had been given her? What "Come to me to-morrow, Clara," Mrs. steps she should she take to learn the truth? Askerton said as they all passed through Then she remembered Mrs. Askerton's prom- the village together. Clara muttered some ise. "If you want to ask any questions, and reply, having not as yet made up her mind will ask them of me I will answer them." The as to what her conduct must be. Early on communication as to which Mrs. Askerton the next morning Will Belton went away, had prophesied, had now been made; but and again Clara got up to give him his it had been made, not by Will Belton whom breakfast. On this occasion he had no Mrs. Askerton had reviled, but by Captain thought of kissing her. He went away Aylmer, whose praises Mrs. Askerton had without having had a word said to him about so loudly sung. As Clara thought of this, Mrs. Askerton, and then Clara settled hershe could not analyze her own feelings, self down to the work of deliberation. which were not devoid of a certain tri- What should she do with reference to the umph. She had known that Belton would communication that had been made to her not put on his armour to attack a woman. by Captain Aylmer? VALUATION OF THE LIFE LIABILITIES | the great Company which has been under his OF THE ROYAL INSURANCE COMPANY FOR management, such as has rarely, if ever, been THE QUINQUENNIAL PERIOD, ENDING 31ST equalled. This brief notice would be imperfect DECEMBER, 1864. A pamphlet of more than were we not to call special attention to the anxfifty pages, bearing the above designation, has ious desire which the writer evinces, so to make been published by Truscotts, Suffolk-lane. plain to every ordinary comprehension the manFrom its unpretending title, we were quite un- ner in which he has arrived at the results prepared for the large scope of this work, which achieved, that the reader may, with ordinary atis, in truth, a masterly analysis of the principles tention, at once understand the methods he has that should guide a well-governed Life Assur- employed in the valuation of the Life Liabilities ance Association on the accumulation of the of the Company, and the calculation of the large funds intrusted to its care, and their due im- sum applicable to division in the shape of a reprovement for the benefit of the participating versionary bonus of £2 per cent. per annum assured, combined with that careful selection of added to the sums assured. The beautiful dialife which can alone lead to a favourable stand-grams, by which the experience of this and ard of mortality, and thus secure the highest attainable benefit to its members. These principles appear to have been rigidly adhered to by the able writer of this pamphlet, and with such excellent results, that he is able to detail a twenty years' experience in the Life Branch of other companies has been illustrated, deserve especial commendation from their novelty and ingenuity. We commend this able pamphlet to the perusal of every thoughtful and provident man.- - Press. PART V.-CHAPTER XVII. A LUNCHEON AT THE PRIORY. IT was well for poor Lendrick that he was not to witness the great change which, in a few short weeks, had been effected in his once home. So complete, indeed, was the transformation, there was but very little left beyond the natural outline of the scenery to remind one of that lovely nook in which the tasteful cottage nestled. The conservatory had been converted into a dining-room; the former dinner-room being fitted up for a billard-room. The Swiss cow-house, a pretty little conceit, on which Lendrick had lavished some money and more time, was turned into a stable, with three loose-boxes; and the neat lawn, whose velvet sward was scarce less beautiful than the glittering flower-beds that studded it, was ruthlessly cut up into a racecourse, with hurdles and fences and double ditches, to represent a tiff country, and offer all the features of a teeple-chase. It needed not the assurance of Mr. Kimball, the house-agent, to proclaim that his client was very unlike the last occupant of the place. "He was no recluse, no wretched misanthropist, hiding his discontent amongst shrubs and forcing-beds; he was a man of taste and refinement, with knowledge of life and its requirements. He would be an acquisition to any neighbourhood." Now, the last phrase-and he invariably made it his peroration has a very wide and sweeping acceptation. It appeals to the neighborhood with all the charms that pertain to social intercourse; a guest the more and a host the more are no small claims in small places. It appeals to the Parson, as another fountain from which to draw draughts of benevolence. To the Doctor it whispers fees and familiar dinners. Galen knows that the luckiest of men are not exempt from human ills, and that gout comes as a frequent guest where the cook is good and the wine tempting; and the Butcher himself revels in the thought of a "good family" that consumes sirloins and forestalls sweetbreads. It was somewhat trying to young Tom Lendrick, who had gone down to the Nest to fetch sway some remnants of fishing-tackle he had left there, to hear these glowing anticipations of the new-comer, so evidently placed in contrast with the quiet and inexpensive life his father had led. How unlike were his father, and this "acquisition to any neighborhood," was impressed upon him at any moment! How could a life of unob trusive kindness, of those daily ministerings to poor men's wants, compete with the gliter and display which were to adorn a neighborhood? Already were people beginning to talk of Lendrick as odd, eccentric, pecular; to set down his finest qualities as strange traits of a strange temperament, and rather, on the whole, to give themselves credit for the patience and forbearance which they had shown to one who, after all, was simply an egotist." 66 Yes, such are not unfrequent judgments in this same world of ours; and if you would have men's suffrages for the good you do, take care that you do it conventionally. Be in all shings like those around you; and if there be a great man in your vicinity, whenever a doubt arises in your mind as to any course of action, do as you may imagine he might do. Young Lendrick came away not a little disgusted with this taste of human fickleness. The sight of their old home changed even to desecration was bad enough, but this cold ingratitude was worse. Had he gone into the cabins of the poor, had he visited the humble dwellings where his father's generous devotion had brought him face to face with famine and fever, he would have heard much to redress the balance of these opinions. He would have heard those warm praises that come from sorrow-stricken hearts, the wail of the friendless and forlorn. Tom heard not these, and he returned to town with a feeling of anger and resentment against the world he had never known before. "How absurd it is in old Fossbrooke," thought he, "to go on saying money cannot do this, that and t'other! Why, it can do everything. It does not alone make a man great, powerful, and influential, but it gains him the praise of being good, kind and generous. Look at my poor father, who never had a thought but for others, who postponed himself to all around him; and yet here is some one, whose very name is unknown, more eagerly looked for, more ardently desired, than would he be were it to be announced to-morrow he was coming back to live amongst them. What nonsense it is to say, that the world cares for any qualities save those it can utilize! and I am only amazed how a man could have seen so much of life as Sir Brook and gained so little by his experience." It was in this mood he got back to the little lodging in a humble suburb called Cullen's Wood, where Sir Brook awaited him. It is not impossible that the disparities of temperament in this world are just as beneficial, just as grateful, as are the boundless variety and change we find in nature. To Tom Lendrick's depression, almost disgust with life, Sir Brook brought that bright, hopeful, happy spirit, which knew how to throw sunlight on every path to be travelled. who assumed to be droll at his expense, who would not in a serious mood have conceded to him every good and great trait of his nature. The first step in worldly knowledge is to rise above all consideration of light gossip. Take my word for it, we often confirm men in wrong thinking by opposition, who, if left to themselves and their own hearts, would review their judgments, and even retract them." He had received good news, or what he thought was good news, from Sardinia. A new vein of ore had been struck very Tom took a hasty turn up and down the "fat" ore they called it-some eighty room; a ready reply was on his lip, indeed odd per cent., and a fair promise of silver it was with difficulty he repressed it, but in it. "They ask me for thirty thousand he did so, and stood in seeming acquiesfrancs, though, Tom," said he, with a smile; cence to what he had heard. At last he "they might as well have written "pounds" said, " And the other plan, Sir Brookwhen they were about it. They want to re- what was that?" pair the engine and erect a new crane. They say, too, the chains are worn and unsafe -a thing to be looked to, or we shall have some accidents. In fact, they need fully double what they ask for; and seeing how impossible was the performance, I am astonished at their modesty." "And what do you mean to do, sir?" asked Tom, bluntly. "I have been thinking of two courses; my first thought was to make a formal conveyance of the Mine to you and your sister, for your joint use and benefit. This done, and I standing aloof from all possible interest in it, I bethought me of a loan to be raised on the security of the property-not publicly, not generally, but amongst your father's friends and well wishers-beginning with the neighbourhood where he has lived so long, and around which he has sowed the seeds of such benefits as needs must ripen in gratitude." "Indulge no delusions on that score, sir. There is not a man in the county, except old Mills the vicar perhaps, has a good word for us; and as to going to one of them for assistance, I'd rather sweep a crossing. You shake your head, Sir Brook, and you smile at my passionate denunciation; but it is true, every word of it. I heard, in the few hours I spent there, scores of stories of my poor father's eccentricity - his forgetfulness, his absence, and what not but never a syllable of his noble liberality, his selfsacrifice, or his gentleness." 66 My dear Tom," said the old man, solemnly, "when you have lived to one-half my age you will discover that the world is not so much cursed with ill-nature as with levity, and that when men talk disparagingly of their fellows, they do so rather to seem witty than to be just. There was not, perhaps, one of those who tried to raise a laugh at your father's oddities, or "Perhaps a more likely one, Tom," said the old man, cheerfully. "It was to apply directly to your grandfather, a man whose great intelligence would enable him to examine a project with whose details he had not ever before versed himself, and ask whether he would not make the advance we require on mortgage or otherwise." "I don't think I'd like to ask him," said Tom, with a grim smile. "The proposal could come from me," said Sir Brooke, proudly, "if he would graciously accord me an interview." Tom turned away to hide a smile, for he thought, if such a meeting were to take place, what he would give to be an unseen witness of it: to watch the duel between antagonists so different, and whose weapons were so unlike. "My sister knows him better than any of us,” said Tom at last; "might I consult her as to the likelihood of any success with him?” By all means; it is what I would have myself advised." "I will do so then to-day. I ought to have gone to see her yesterday; but I will go to-day, and report progress when I come back. I have a long budget for her," added he, with a sigh -"a catalogue of all the things I am not going to do. I am not going to be a medallist, nor win a fellowship, nor even be a doctor; it will, however, give me great courage if I can say, I'll be a miner.' Tom Lendrick was right when he said he should have gone to see his sister on the day before, though he was not fully aware how right. The Chief Baron, in laying down a few rules for Lucy's guidance, made a point of insisting that she should only receive visitors on one day of the week; and in this regulation he included even her brother. So averse was the old man to be |