waited in the cold, and with the wind tearing at her hat and whipping at her skirts, making her ankles sting with cold. Would Ursula come out of her room and greet her, was she well enough to do that, or would she be lying in bed in the candle-light? Maud's heart beat. The door opened, a light flickered inside.

'Is this Down Farm?' asked Maud.

A nurse, a simple-looking quiet girl, held the door open. 'Yes, yes.'

No further words were necessary. She did not see the curious expression on the nurse's face as she caught at the door to prevent it from banging and held it open for Maud to pass within.

Maud entered the narrow hall and stood eagerly waiting till the door was shut and bolted. 'How is Miss Monckton?' she asked.

The nurse turned away without speaking and went to the foot of the stairs. Maud followed. At the foot of the stairs, she turned again and said, 'I am afraid the letter never reached you by the first post this morning, Miss Monckton.'

The pulses in Maud's head began to beat violently.

'Yes,' she said and her lips were so dry that even that monosyllable was difficult to pronounce.

The nurse looked astonished.

She passed

I'm afraid, Miss Monckton, it'll be a great shock to you. You won't have realised how very ill Miss Monckton was. away this morning.'

Maud put out her hand and touched the wall, for she felt dazed and uncertain where she was.

She was longing so much to see you, but we never thought the end was so near,' said the nurse. The doctor himself thought that she might live another week or ten days.'

'She expected me this morning?' gasped Maud.

Yes, Miss, and we couldn't think what had happened—whether you had missed your train. We sent a wire this afternoon-to you-not knowing what to do. But, of course, it missed you! It was while she was still speaking of you—that the end suddenly came.'

Maud leaned against the wall and covered her face with her hands.

'Don't grieve too much, Miss,' said the nurse taking her arm. 'Come and see her, she is so peaceful; it will help you to bear it when you see how happy she is.'

Together they went stiffly and slowly up the stairs. At the top were two shabby narrow doors, one looking each way. The

nurse put out her hand, turned a key and led Maud into a lowceilinged cottage-bedroom. The blinds were drawn and a candle burned on the little dressing-table. On an iron bedstead in the farthest corner, by the fireplace, in which only scattered ashes remained, lay a motionless form under the quilt. In the shadowy candle-light, Maud saw her face, very thin and white and small, but relaxed into the placitude of death. Is there no way of reaching out to speak to the souls whom we have neglected, whom we have allowed to suffer alone? Is there no way of asking pardon, no way of telling them of our remorse? Is there no forgiveness of sins?

(To be continued.)

THE Editor feels bound to share with his readers some of the evidences of international sympathy which have come to the CORNHILL. From The Hague a correspondent hitherto unknown, Mr. P. M. Schelling, writes:

'Whilst our mind is filled with the thoughts about this horrible war which Prussia has bestirred on Europe, whilst we follow with interest and good wishes the brave deeds of the gallant Allied Powers who are defending civilisation against brute militarism, it does the heart good to turn an eye for a moment to the CORNHILL MAGAZINE, and there to read on page 144 of the July number how this Magazine, with the assistance of other lovers of animal life, has obtained a great success on behalf of the much-persecuted Grey Seal, and I allow myself the pleasure to congratulate you upon your good work.

'P.S. This letter, of course, is not meant for publication. I only want you to know how, also outside England, the animal lovers appreciate what you have done.

'October 20, 1914.'

And again :

'When I gave myself the pleasure to write to you, I did not expect for a moment to receive in return such a very nice letter as you were good enough to send me.

6

Although my former one was not meant for publication, I certainly have no objection if you will print it. To appear in your Magazine is always an honour.

I quite agree with you that for Holland as well as for the whole world the victory of Prussia and militarism would be a perpetual danger; but likewise I agree that England and its Allies must win, and then we can have a genuine peace, instead of the volcanic state through which Europe has been held back in social progress already for so many years.

I saw with pleasure that England offered us a capital sum of money as a help to our expense in sheltering and feeding the oneand-a-half millions of poor Belgians-and likewise I saw with pleasure that Holland has, with courteous thanks, declined the

offer. The offer as well as the answer will for ever be a credit and honour to both our nations.

'P.S.-My best wishes are with Mr. H. Prichard. May he do good work in France and return safely to England to continue his good work for our dumb brothers, the animals.

" October 29, 1914.'

From Concord, Massachusetts, a long-standing friend of the CORNHILL, equally unknown to me, sends this letter:

'TO THE DEAR FRIENDS OF THE CORNHILL,-I am one of your oldest readers, dating from the time of Thackeray and "Denis Duval." Those early volumes, well bound, stand in the bookcase at my side.

'Your appeal, which comes to me in my always eagerly welcomed monthly visitor, is wise, and beautiful in its expression, and must touch many of your readers.

'Here is an order for £1 5s.: the pound from me, a half-crown from Miss Poole, my secretary, who reads the CORNHILL aloud to me, and a half-crown from my friend Miss Fisher, who reads it regularly. I should send more, but am giving to the funds raised here for the Allies and the Belgians.

'With all our agony, and the waste of the precious lives of the free nations, we have the comfort of knowing that we have not sold our souls to dishonour, treachery, and barbaric cruelty.

'Sincerely yours,

L. S. W. PERKINS.

⚫ October 15, 1914.'