and merciful, and fanned the flame which was palpably consuming him. It occurred to her that it would be rather pleasant than otherwise to be the mistress of a house, the owner of which had a name in the sporting world, and bred winning horses. He had 66 a colt in training for the Derby next year," he told her, and Kate saw herself in an elegantly appointed carriage, receiving the congratulations of all that was fastest and most horsey in the Peerage on that colt's prowess. John Galton looked such a big, amiable fellow, that he would be as easily managed as a Newfoundland dog, she thought. Above all, she did not want Harold Ffrench to come back and find her unmarried.

So she married Mr. Galton, and went down, after her wedding tour, for what she meant to be a brief sojourn at Haversham Grange. But when she mooted the question of leaving it, and going in search of the gaiety and society for which she pined, she found that her husband, though amiable and attached to her, had a will of his own that she could not break. He was well off-well enough off to live like a gentleman upon his own estate, and to indulge in all the sports and pastimes of his county. But he was not a rich man, and he had not the smallest inclination to dissipate what he had in doing what he didn't care to do, namely, going to town in the season, and seeking ingress to the ranks of those amongst whom his wife so much desired to shine.

must introduce me to him and to your little daughter."

Katy is

"My big daughter, if you please. eight years old; as to my husband, I shall be delighted to introduce you to his goodness, on which you must excuse me if I don't expatiate further. I have so many opportunities of studying it uninterruptedly at Haversham all the year, that I prefer a change of subject during my month at Brighton. Tell me what you have been about and where you have been all these years, Harold."

"I can more easily tell you where I have not been; but I am tired of wandering, and having met with unpleasantness in most other places, I have come to the conclusion that

England, with all thy faults I love thee still,' and that I may as well give my own land a benefit. I see you're looking at me and thinking what an old fellow I have grown, Kate, while you are in a better bloom than when I saw you last. See what it is to be married and happy!"

"About my being married there is no doubt; as to the other thing-well, the less said the better. 'Twas not love made me marry John Galton, as you'll believe when you see him; I speak to you as to a brother, you see.

"And I'll return the compliment and speak to you as I would to a sister. Keep your reasons, whatever they are, to yourself, and make complaints to no man. Is your child pretty?"

"Some people think her lovely," Mrs. Galton answered, glancing at her cousin through

66 Well, I suppose you'll want to keep up your town habits and go to the seaside in August, Kate. We'll go to Cromer next year; Cromer is as nice a place, to my mind, as Brighton."

"Very well, we'll go there," she replied, for in all things she resolved to agree with him verbally. Nevertheless she had her own will about the solitary annual outing. It was to Brighton they always went for the sea-air; at Cromer, and indeed every other dull place, Mrs. Galton was invariably at death's door.

It was at Brighton that some nine years after her marriage she again met her cousin Harold. They elected to ignore the circumstances that attended their parting, and met as cousins should meet after such a long absence. She was on the pier alone when he saw her first, and he asked for her husband and her child with a promptitude that must have been delightful to her wifely and maternal heart.

"I hear you're married to the best fellow in the world, Kate; where is he? You

what I was when you came home the first time, Harold?"

"Perfectly well."

'

Katy is very much like what I was then: people say she will never have a something in her manner that I have, but still she is like me-or rather like what I was when you came home the first time."

"Rather a forward little girl of eight to be like you at sixteen. You were an uncommonly grown-up young lady then, Kate. So your friends say she lacks the charm of her mamma's manner. Well, I daresay she will get on very well without it." Then, seeing her look a little chagrined, he added: "You get too many compliments to need them from me; besides they're not current coin between brother and sister, you know, and such are to be our relations."

After this rencontre at Brighton the Galtons saw a good deal of Harold Ffrench. Kate was his sole surviving female relative, and he had a certain tenderness for her very faults which | was due to that nameless something in her manner, which little Katy lacked. He liked

her husband too, liked him for his good-heartedness and confiding trust in everybody, and his happy habit of seeing the best that can be seen on all occasions. It was true that John Galton was not much of a companion for the travelled, accomplished gentleman, who had cultivated his ear, and eye, and taste assiduously for years, in the best schools for such cultivation that Europe offered, in the hope of deadening his heart. That he had not succeeded in so deadening it utterly was shown in this fact, that he was alive to John Galton's somewhat rough merit. "An honest man's the noblest work of God," he said one day to Kate, pointing out as he spoke the burly form of her good-natured husband, who was turning himself into a beast of burden for his child's amusement. "What a pity it is you women never think so."

"I prefer art to honesty. Come in, Harold, and let us get on with our bay. I want you to give my waves a second painting: they won't come right."

on Harold's part; and she liked men to be, and feel, and show themselves weak on her account.

He would soon be back again, she told herself; such flights were never for long; her falcon would come back, and her jesses would be upon him again stronger than before.

Aye, stronger than before, for he had slipped those jesses once, when to wear them would have been no shame to her. Now he had come back and fitted them on himself again, and is not the relapse invariably worse than the first disease? So for a few days the thoughts of him filled her leisure sufficiently, and prevented her finding her husband and child more than ordinarily tedious and boring. But after a few days after the receipt of that letter, they grew extraordinarily so; and Kate Galton waxed pettish and found as little pleasure in her painting as aught else that Haversham could offer her. But still, though she pined for Harold Ffrench's company, she was such a prudent woman that she would not seem to seek it by obeying his request and going to

"Oh, leave the tiresome brat with her father! I shall get daggers in my head if I stay out here in the sun. And I'm so interested in my picture."

So they went away into Harold's temporary studio together, and her brush went freely over the canvas on which she was reproducing his nearly finished picture.

"Upon my word you've caught my touch wonderfully, Kate," he said, coming up to her easel, and looking at her effort with the admiration one is apt to bestow upon a tolerably accurate copy of one's own original idea; "it's a pity, though, you didn't tackle something higher."

"Something higher?"

"Yes, a Landseer, or a Sir Joshua, or an original picture. By Jove! Kate, why not an original picture ?"

"I should fail, Harold," Mrs. Galton replied, softly. "I shall never paint, never copy anything but yours."

This took place a day or two before Harold Ffrench went away to Houghton where he met Theo Leigh. He discovered immediately after it that to give reality to the headland which he desired to introduce into his picture, he must paint from nature and not trust to his imagination; that had run away with him on former occasions, he said, and should never be relied upon again.

Kate was not precisely displeased at his flight-for his departure was of the character of a flight, it was so abrupt, so unexpected. She chose to take it as a confession of weakness

Come what would, wary Mrs. Galton resolved that the surface should show that Harold had always sought her with her husband's permission,-never that she had sought Harold, unless requested by John Galton to do so.

So, while she was hourly expecting Harold back the days passed and May came in, and there was commotion up in London about the great Exhibition, and all the wonders it contained, and all the visitors whom those wonders drew to our shores. Mrs. Galton waxed very pettish indeed now, for her husband kept on asking her what day "she'd like to go to town;" and she felt that she would not like to go to town at all until she knew whether Harold would be there with her or not, for London with John Galton alone was not to her taste. There had been no letter from Harold in reply to that one in which she had answered his request by simply entreating him to "come back to Haversham as John wanted him very much." At length she gave up expecting such letter, and cleverly lured her husband on to asking her to go to Houghton.

"John, do you know that Harold has found some old friends at Houghton, some man he knew abroad somewhere, with a nice wife? I'm so glad of it, I wish he'd bring them here."

"When did you hear this?"

"In that letter I had from him he told meI've only had that one. There's a daughter in the case, and Harold asks me to be kind to her in London; her father is going to take her up to see the Exhibition."

"That's right," John Galton said heartily, he was always ready to enter into anything of

this sort with what his wife termed vulgar avidity. "That's right. Lor! you should have looked them up before now, Kate. Drive over and see them, and ask the young lady over here."

"It's a long drive, John."

66

and has therefore been preserved intact. In 1190, a new and larger fabric was built, consisting of a nave of eight bays with lean-to aisles, but retaining the tower; the form of the fabric was rendered cruciform by the addition of transepts. These aisles were pulled down

"Very well, dear," Mrs. Galton said, meekly; she had determined on going as soon as it became patent to her that Harold was disinclined to come back to her, but she was also determined that her husband should tell her to go. It should appear that he was cognisant of every thing, whatever happened. Accordingly, now that he told her to drive over to Houghton, she amiably arrayed herself in a blue bonnet that would have been too decided in colour had all the rest of her dress not been black, and drove over.

(To be continued.)

THE OLD CHURCH AT GREAT
YARMOUTH.

IN a paper on Great Yarmouth * We casually mentioned its ancient church of St. Nicholas as one of the finest parish churches in the kingdom; and we are rejoiced to hear that, to a considerable extent, it has risen out of the ashes of neglect, and by the help of large local and public contributions, the fabric is resuming much of its ancient glory, and that within the last few weeks it has been re-opened for public worship, its chancel and its central tower having both been restored according to the original plan, and that now for the first time it can be seen in its entire length of 230 feet from east to west, the wretched partition of brickwork which divided it having been taken down, and the fair proportions of its lofty chancel being again revealed to the eye. For this result, the good people of Yarmouth are mainly indebted to their vicar, the Rev. H. R. Nevill, and to Mr. C. J. Palmer, F. S. A., the honorary secretary of the Restoration Committee.

St. Nicholas, Yarmouth, may very well take rank among our foremost parish churches, if not with the old Abbey of St. Alban's, at all events with St. Mary Redcliffe, Bristol, St Botolph at Boston, and St. Michael's at Coventry; and as exhibiting the harmony of several styles in combination, perhaps it is superior to any and all of these.

Of the original church, built by Bishop Herbert de Losinga, in 1101, nothing remains but portions of the central tower, but this tower has served to rule and modify the entire form of the church through all its subsequent changes, * See vol. IX., p. 276.

they were rebuilt, with a width of 40 feet each (the nave being only 24 feet), to make room for numerous mortuary chapels, formed by wooden partitions in the great aisles, the fashion for which then prevailed; and the church was re-consecrated in A. D. 1286. The next step in enlarging the fabric was the extension of the chancel eastwards; these works were in the Geometrical Decorated style of the early part of the 14th century. The vaulted porch to the south aisle was added at the same time. The transepts were raised in height soon afterwards, thus blocking up the lower windows of the tower.

If we were to transport ourselves 500 years back, we should see St. Nicholas' Church in all its glory, a complete and stately church, with aisles and transepts all sharply defined and equal in height, and adorned with a lofty pinnacle at every corner, containing a stone staircase leading to the gutters and roof. The tower was surmounted by a spire, that rose to 184 feet; and within, the church was rich in furniture. A chapel of "our Lady of Arneburg" decked the eastern end of the chancel; the northern aisle of the chancel had a "pair of fair organs;" the chancel itself was crossed by a lofty rood loft, and adorned with a reredos, the work of Roger de Hadiscoe. "In and about the church," says a writer in the Ecclesiologist, "nineteen separate chapels are enumerated, each with its altar, and lights burning before the statue of its patron saint. Sacred dramas and miracle-plays were represented in the spacious aisles of the chancel, of the stage properties of which some curious records exist; the walls were decorated with rich hangings of arras and with paintings, of which some fragments remain, particularly an interesting portion of one in the north chancel aisle, from the subject of the murder of St. Thomas à Becket; the sedilia were richly carved and painted; faint traces of figures of angels of very exquisite character are still visible upon those in the south chancel aisle; from the roof a ship was suspended as a type of the church. roofs were waggon-shaped, and had panelled boarded ceilings with moulded ribs and carved bosses, on which armorial bearings and other designs were painted; in fact, the whole of its immense interior was most profusely and sumptuously enriched."

All the

From this period we must date the decline

The Puritans of the 17th century accomplished much that had been left undone by the Reformers of the 16th. The churchyard cross was probably destroyed at this date ; and under Cromwell the chancel and its aisles were bricked up and severed from the rest of the edifice, the chancel itself being given up for a chapel to the "Independents," who were with difficulty expelled at the Restoration.

In 1633 part of the spire was destroyed by a fire, when it was shortened, and what was left was afterwards rebuilt in equally bad taste. In 1784 the east end of the chancel fell down, and the wall was rebuilt, ten feet being cut off the length of the edifice. Early in the present century, the fine stone carving of the exterior was hacked away wholesale in order to fit the building for a coating of plaster, which is now doomed wholly to disappear; high and unsightly brickwork buttresses were built up against the noble western front, and the tower was encased with bands of cast-iron. So bad, indeed, had the fabric become that at one time it was proposed to abandon the building to its fate, and to build a new church on another site.

In 1845 a happier era was inaugurated. The then incumbent, Mr. Mackenzie, appealed for aid towards restoring the fabric, and the interior rapidly assumed a more fitting aspect, at a cost of 5,000l. But it was not till last year that it was resolved to undertake the work of revival on a larger and effective scale, at a cost of 25,000l. Of this amount a sum of 60001. has been raised, and expended under the advice of Mr. J. P. Seddon, and it will be necessary to spread the works contemplated over a period of years. The southern aisle, with its waggon roof, must be entirely re-roofed; and the west front, with its large windows and four lofty pinnacles, will require a very large expenditure. The spire, which serves as a landmark to the ships outside the Yarmouth Roads, it is to be hoped will be restored to its original height. In fact, in order to make their church worthy of its former character, the good people of Yarmouth will have to collect nearly another 20,000l.; but there is little doubt that the

sum

will be forthcoming in the long-run. Meantime Mr. Charles J. Palmer, F.S. A., the Secretary of the Restoration Committee, of the interior of whose beautiful mansion on the South Quay we gave an illustration in a former number of ONCE A WEEK, * will be happy to receive contributions towards the good work which he and his colleagues have taken in hand, and in which we wish them all success. 'Au

*See Vol. IX., page 643.

dentes fortuna juvat." An undertaking commenced in this spirit must not and cannot be suffered to rest until the whole structure has been, not merely rendered safe and sound (which at present it is not), but restored to the full beauty and integrity of its unique and elaborate design. E. W.

"HE LAMBERT!"

In future years it will, no doubt, be customary in France to indicate the date when a particular event occurred by reference to the Emwas the popular peror's Fête when "Lambert Never before was the name of Lambert cry. associated with so many and such anxious inquiries. They extended to his wife, his family, his hatter, and his tailor, the state of his corns and his finances, and every conceivable subject. Quiet men who had come from the provinces to see the fêtes suddenly found themselves assailed by young vagabonds as though they were the veritable Lambert. “ Hé LamVoilà Lambert!" bert! Bonjour Lambert ! Or they were made the objects of disreputable accusations, as, "Voilà Lambert! qui bat sa femme," and so forth. The Englishmen there assisted materially in adding to the uproar; it was so easy for them to show their knowledge of the French language by shouting in the public gardens, the Champs Elysées and elsewhere "Hé Lambert! Bonjour Lambert! and they did not neglect the opportunity, coming out with especial force at the railway stations. Indeed, a lad who was invited by the police to follow them to the police-station for performing a nigger break-down in front of a stout gentleman whom he persisted in asserting to be Lambert, and who declined to accept the invitation, and consequently had to be dragged there, excused himself when before the magistrate by saying that he did no more than the English did. Of course the theatres have not let the opportunity slip, and before the fêtes were well over, the Palais Royal Theatre had a placard out announcing the performance of a piece with the title, "Hé Lambert! ou la femme qui bat son gendre." The cry was so universal that some people, those who can see meanings where none exist, like certain critics of poetry, asserted there was a political meaning hidden under it. It is now known that it was a mere unmeaning cry, like the inquiry which was popular in London some time back, "How are your poor feet?" The origin of the cry is variously accounted for. One version is, that

a country woman who had missed her husband at the railway station kept firing off cries of "Lambert, hé Lambert! As-tu vu Lambert?” at short intervals, until the whole of the