all letters is subject to inspection-subject to inspection' is the words in the order-book, and no letter from a patient to be conveyed to the post-office, conveyed to the post-office,' mind, or by a messenger'-I'm telling ye the very words of the order-except by the permission of the principal, or his rapperrasentative' I'm telling you the very words, miss-in the one case, by the post-bag of the consulting-room,' and he has the only key of it in the house, and in the other, by the messenger of the consulting-room for the day.' Them's the identical words, I could say them in my sleep."

"Then you won't-oh, my God!-you won't; and I have none to help me!"

"I won't do that, miss; no, I won't." There was a long interval of silence, during which Maud walked distractedly about the room. At last she turned and said gently:

"Well, Mercy, you may, at least, do this-you may write yourself to my cousin, Miss Medwyn, and tell her I am here, and that I implore of her to come and see me without delay."

66

'No, miss, I can't do that." "Not for me, in this extremity? It isn't much. Oh! think-think-take pity on me-you could not be so cruel."

"I won't do it for no one, miss. You don't know this 'ouse, miss, like I does. It's no use a-pressing of me. I won't, miss; and what's more, I couldn't, if I would. And don't say no more about it, or I must report it to the doctor."

Mercy delivered this speech with a flushed face, and many a wag of her head, looking straight at the wall, and not at Maud.

her in the croquet-ground very like for a year to come again.'

Not for a year! How frightful that Mercy should assume that she was still to be an inmate of Glarewoods at the end of a year!

Maud had made up her mind not to quarrel with Mercy, and here it required a little effort to avoid it.

It was dismaying to meet this rebuff, where she had begun to hope for sympathy and active aid. What sordid brutality it was!

But already Maud Vernon had grown more tolerant. In this strange seclusion she had learned more of human nature, and had her sense of superiority more humbled, in two or three days, than in all her life before.

"Service is no inheritance, miss, as I've often heard say, and if I don't look to myself, who will? You know, miss, 'twould never do to get the sack from here, and not know where to turn to. But if ye'll jest have patience, and don't get into no rows, nor refuse your meals, nor your walking and driving, or whatever's ordered for you, nor never sulk, noways, about nothing, you'll not be long till something turns up. Why should the doctor want to keep you here, miss, a day longer than is fit? There's never a room empty in this house; and one customer's money is as good as another's; so don't you think or imagine, if you're not a case for Glarewoods, you'll be here any time to speak of, and when vou're on the convalescent list you'll have more liberty, and ye'll be allowed to write to your friends. Only don't ye mar all by nonsense. If you're ever so well in your wits, you'll drive yourself out of them, so sure as ye take to moping, and sulking, and roaring, and raving. 'Tis best to be quiet, and orderly, and cheerful, and happy, and that's my advice to you, miss; be always pleasant, while you stays at Glarewoods."

"I'll tell you what, miss, if you be as you say," resumed Mercy, after an interval, "and has nothing to signify wrong with you you'll not be long here. Only you must draw it mild-I mean ye must 'ave patience, and do hevrything accordin' to the rules. Look at that poor foolish Mrs. Fish, jest puttin' herself in a tantarem with that creature Ap-Jenkins; it's jest like ALL THE YEAR ROUND, puttin' a light to one o' them fireworks; once they takes fire, away they goes, and none to hold 'em till they has the fun out; and now she's out o' this side, beyond the cross-door, among the dangerous 'uns, and much stricter looked after; you'll not see

The Back Numbers of the PRESENT SERIES of

Also Cases for Binding, are always kept on sale. The whole of the Numbers of the FIRST SERIES of ALL

THE YEAR ROUND,

CONDUCTED BY CHARLES DICKENS, Are now in print, and may be obtained at the Office: 26, Wellington-street, Strand, W.C., and of all Booksellers

The Right of Translating Articles from ALL THE YEAR ROUND is reserved by the Autiors.

'uolished at the mice. 26, Wellington St Strand Printed by C. WHITING, Beaufort House, Duke St., Lincoln's Inn Fields.

knowledge that I was his wife, and in the ridiculous hope that his acknowledgment of my position was merely a matter of time. Now he proposes to get rid of me for three years, and with such a man as Philip Vane, it is not difficult to understand what that means. Three years! But only two have elapsed since we were married, and even in that short time my attraction for him has so waned, my hold on him has so relaxed, that he makes me such a proposition as this.

"What is it?" she cried, suddenly, stepping leisurely across the room, and looking at herself in the looking-glass on the dressing-table. "Have I grown plain, old, or repulsive? I confess I cannot see the alteration," she added, proudly, shaking her hair back, after a moment's inspection of herself; "nor if Mr. Philip Vane thinks so, is his opinion shared by every one. Here," laying her hand on Rose's crumpled note, "here is evidence to the contrary. Here is some one younger, better looking, and, unless I am very much mistaken, better bred, than Mr. Philip Vane, who would give all that he holds dearest in life for the companionship which that gentleman despises! Another example, God knows not wanted, of the misery set forth in those words, 'too late.' If I had only known Gerald Hardinge -I talk like a fool! Gerald Hardinge is a boy, who is nothing to me, and Philip Vane is my husband."

position for her going to London. She would agree to that now, she would tell him so to-morrow, and then there would be no more questions of her going abroad, and the old happy time, the time of two years ago, would come back again. And so thinking, Madge Pierrepoint fell asleep.

These kindly feelings, these hopes for the future, had not passed away when Madge awoke in the morning. On first opening her eyes, indeed, the sense of some impending calamity, which she had felt so strongly on the receipt of Philip's last letter on the previous evening, haunted her again; but when she recollected her recent thoughts, and her determination to submit herself to her husband's wishes, so far at least as accepting an engagement in London was concerned, she speedily got the better of her weakness, and had not much difficulty in persuading herself that a happy future was yet in store for her. So, full of hopes and anticipations, she started forth soon after she had finished her breakfast. She knew that at that time she need fear no interruption from Rose, who during the whole of the morning was busy with her various lessons, or from Miss Cave, who, after the ordering of her little household, invariably set forth to take her place in the box-office of the theatre, a position which just then claimed her attention even more rigidly than usual, as the season was about to terminate, and all outstanding accounts had to be carefully gone through.

Her husband! The mere sound of the word sent her thoughts into a different current. Philip Vane was still the prin- Madge knew, moreover, that at such an cipal figure, not as she had just seen him, hour she should be able to walk through cold, sneering, practical, and hard, but the streets without undergoing the severe ardent, romantic, and impassioned. Chep- scrutiny which was usually bestowed upon stow Castle and the path along the wind- her. The good people of Wexeter, though ings of the silver Wye, the young man so better bred than those of many other prodifferent in the polished ease of his de- vincial towns, were yet human. Conse meanour, and the style of his conversa- quently, the sight of anybody whom they tion, even in the fit of his clothes, and his recognised as connected with the theatrical graceful negligent manner of carrying him- profession, when attired in ordinary cos self, from any one she had ever seen before. tume, and proceeding through the streets The stolen interviews, the long walks, in an ordinary manner, awoke in them an finally the quiet marriage, with the local amount of curiosity which betrayed itself, fisherman and his wife as the only wit- even amongst the highest and most refined, nesses; all these scenes and imaginations in covert glances, amongst the less decame floating across her brain and myste-licate in prolonged stares, and amongst the riously served to still the storm which was raging within her breast. Philip could not mean what he had said; he could not think of parting with her for three years! It was to try her, perhaps, that he had suggested it; and she had fallen so readily into the trap. Perhaps she, too, was to blame; her place was by his side, and she ought to have tried to fall in with his pro

boys in loud shouts of recognition and warwhoops of a wild character, indicative of a desire on the part of the shouters to make an onslaught on the person observed, and to ascertain by pinches and other manual appliances, whether they were really flesh and blood. Miss Cave, indeed, had a legend which she was accustomed to narrate on special occasions, setting forth that within

the

the memory of her father, the actors had
been known as 66
lakers," and that on any
of them being recognised in the streets,
cry
of "The lakers, the lakers !" would
call forth the utterance of the ferocious
hint to "smash their heads agin the wall."
This, however, was in the dark ages, and
now the recognised members of the com-
pany were only subjected to a great amount
of staring and whispered observations, ge-
nerally of a complimentary character.

Even from this torture-for torture it was to a sensitive-minded woman-Madge Pierrepoint was free during her early walk. It was a tacitly recognised tradition among the Wexeter people, that no one was to be seen in the streets until the afternoon. The members of the cathedral, their families, and a few ladies, old and young, regularly attended morning service, before and after which the female heads of families might have been seen discharging their marketing duties; but the generality of these persons constituting what was called society in the good old town, never appeared in public until after that meal, which by a polite fiction passed as luncheon, but which in most cases was understood to be dinner. Thus, when Madge reached the lane at the back of the Dumpington turnpike, she found the spot almost as much deserted as on the previous night, scattered parties of working people in the distant fields being the only human creatures within view.

you were not comfortable at the Half Moon. Everybody speaks so well of the house."

"It may be all very well for bagmen, and people of that kind," said Major Vane, with great disgust.

"It has the reputation of being very clean," said Madge.

"Clean," echoed the Major; "I knew you would say that! When people can say nothing else for an inn, they say it's clean! Just as when they can say nothing else for a man, they say he is good-natured. All I know is, the beds seem as if they were stuffed with potatoes instead of feathers, and they give you cotton sheets-cotton sheets, by Jove!"

'Well, it was only for one night, Philip," said Madge, soothingly; "to-day you will be able to go back to your London luxuries.”

"My London luxuries-while you struggle on here! Is that what you mean to convey?" said Philip Vane, looking at her sharply.

"No, indeed, I did not mean to convey anything of the kind," said Madge, quietly; "I meant no sneer. And, indeed," she added, with a desperate effort of cheerfulness, "I do not intend you to enjoy those luxuries, if luxuries they be, much longer by yourself. I intend to come up and share them with you."

"The deuce you do!" said the major, in a loud key. loud key. "Oh, you have been thinking over what I said to you last night, then ?" "I have."

"And what is the result of your delibe?"

Eleven o'clock rang out from the cathedral as she arrived within sight of her destination, and on hearing the sound she quick-ration ened her pace, and when she turned into the little lane, her heart was beating fast, and her face was all aglow. She was compensated for her hurry, however, by finding that she was first at the spot; and it was not until after she had taken two or three leisurely turns up and down, recovering her breath, that she heard the sound of wheels, and looking round saw Philip Vane alight from a cab by the turnpike, and advance

towards her.

I

"I will tell you, Philip; but before I tell you, let me say one word about myself, about ourselves. I have been thinking a great deal, not merely about this one proposition, but about our lives altogether, and it strikes me that, for the last few months at all events, there has been a sort of division between us, not expressed, indeed, but nevertheless existing, which should not be. Our interests are one, and our great point in life should be to carry them out by working together loyally, and in unison. Do you follow me, Philip ?"

That Major Vane was not in a very good temper, was evident from his first words. "You are going to tell me that I am late, He was standing with his face turned suppose?" he said, "but you need not, towards her now, but with his eyes looking because I know it! Not that I overslept far away over her shoulder, swaying himmyself, or anything of that sort. How any-self to and fro, and switching his legs with body sleeps at all in that infernal hotel is a matter of wonder to me; it's a sin and a shame that a place like that shouldn't have something better than such a pot-house for a gentleman to put up at."

"I wasn't going to say a word about your being late, Philip; I am only sorry to hear

a small cane which he carried in his hand.

"Oh, yes, I follow you," he said; "it isn't time for me to speak just yet, while you are dealing in generalities. I am waiting until you come to the point, before I have my little say."

Madge winced as he spoke, but took no

further notice. Then she proceeded: "I have no doubt that I have been very foolish in allowing my fears to get the better of me, and in refusing to go and act in London. It must seem ridiculous to you that I should be wasting what remains to me of my youth and energy, in playing to provincial audiences, and in earning so small a salary. I can fully understand that, from what you saw of me two years ago, you imagined that I should by this time have made much greater progress, and been enabled to contribute much more effectively to our income. You shall not have that cause for complaint any longer. I will not even refuse to appear in any style of character, which your good sense and knowledge of the world may decide that I should undertake with a chance of success; I will give up any scruples of the kind which I have hitherto held, and if you will get me an engagement—and I am sure, amongst all the people you know, there must be plenty who would be proud to oblige you-I will go to London."

Hurt, proud, and defiant, she threw her head back and said, with as much calmness as she could call to her aid: "Since you wish our relations to be merely on a strict business footing, you will find me prepared to meet your wishes so far. You ask me if I will accept a three years' engagement to travel with a theatrical company through America and Australia, you, during that time, remaining in England. Do I state the matter rightly ?"

"With almost legal precision," said Major Vane, with a sneer.

Then to that proposition I answer, 'No! no! no! See here, Philip Vane: I came to you this morning prepared to do my best to set matters right between us, to meet you more than half-way, to give you, if it were possible, even more freedom than you have now, and not to attempt to claim my position until I had made such a name in London as would render you not ashamed to acknowledge me. To this separation-for such the Australian scheme really is, call it by what name you likeI could not have consented, but it might have been modified in some way, or if you had been kind and gentle with me, God knows-I might have gone away. But," she added, speaking slowly, and. curling her lip, and looking him full in the face, "when you allow your hard bed and cotton sheets to influence your temper so far as to make you forget, not merely the regard due to me as your wife, but the respect which I should claim as a woman, “No, not in what you last proposed, II meet you on your own ground, and disknow; but you have said more than once tinctly refuse to accept this offer which you that you wished I would go to London, have made me!" and now I am not merely willing, but anxious to do so, Philip."

She looked up into his face as she said these last words, and made a slight movement of her hand towards him, as though expectant of some little recognition of her speech. In this, however, she was disappointed. Major Vane merely stopped himself in the act of switching his legs, and looking down at her, said: "You seem to have mistaken what I said to you last night; there was no question of going to London in the matter.' ""

"It seems impossible to get you women to be business-like," said Major Vane, pettishly. "I took the trouble to come down here yesterday, bringing you an offer, which I should have thought you would only have been too glad to have availed yourself of, and given me my reply at once. You demanded time for deliberation, and I accorded it. Now, when you should communicate to me your decision, you branch off upon a totally different topic."

66

I

Oh, you do, do you?" said the major, slowly, giving his legs one vicious switch; "don't let's have any mistake about it this time, let me understand you quite clearly. You refuse ?"

"I do!" she cried, exasperated at the mocking tone in which he spoke; "I do, and I tell you so, plainly! Do you think I have been blinded by this pretext for an instant? Do you think that I do not see plainly enough that your object is to rid yourself of me, apparently for a time only, but really for ever ?"

Well, and suppose it were ?" he said, quietly.

His tone was harsh and morose, his manner half scornful, half savage. As Madge listened to, and looked at him, all "Suppose it were!" she echoed; "well, her recently formed resolutions of submis- then, I tell you plainly, I would frustrate sion, all her growing hopes for peace in it. Do you hear? There is a devil I have the present, and happiness in the future, in me, which once roused renders me a melted away. If such were to be the re-match for you, long-headed and crafty as sponse to all her overtures of affection, you are.' they had been made for the last time. "Nice style of woman this, by George,"