in the angles of the room, were rare old bits of china. Mrs. Dudley was proud of her pretty house, which was a model of neatness and cleanliness, and did her great credit. She was devoted to her husband and children, and if she had not felt continual anxiety about his safety, from occasional affrays with poachers, would have been one of the happiest of women.

Months passed: winter was over, and spring had deepened into summer. Arthur was growing into a tall manly boy, and during the holidays had often accompanied his father on his rounds. But now the school had met again, and Arthur threw himself heart and soul into cricket, which at that time occupied the youths of the village. There was to be a grand cricket match in the park-for Lord Anster took a great interest in the game-which was to be followed by one between Arthur's school and another in the neighbourhood. The boy's great ambition was to take part in this, but as yet he was not considered a sufficiently good cricketer to deserve such a distinction. The elder boys practised regularly every day, but would not allow the younger ones to play with them, so they established a cricket club of their own, and invited Arthur to join them.

"We have got a good level cricket ground," said Stephen Crawley, the captain of the younger eleven, " in the field beyond Stokes Croft. The two Pierces belong to the club, and will let us through their father's garden, which will save half a mile's walking -a good thing this weather."

'I will come," replied Arthur; but, as he said it, his conscience reproached him for breaking his word to his father, and grieving his mother, whom he dearly loved. "But I do not think it a particularly good place," he added.

"Oh! if that is all," said Stephen, sneeringly, "we think we know best; so bring your bat and we will go there after school."

For more than a fortnight Arthur went every day with the Pierces, to the field beyond Stokes Croft. At first he took no pleasure in the game, the conscious. ness of his wrong-doing oppressed him, but this soon wore off, and he improved rapidly in his play.

One evening, when his father came in, he called Arthur, and told him that he was to go up to the hall the next day, to play cricket with the young gentlemen there.

you are there with your bat in good time to-morrow, clean and nice."

Arthur had blushed painfully at his father's words, and turned away with a feeling of real pain and disgust at his own conduct.

"Why, Arthur, you don't seem above half pleased," said his mother, looking at him in surprise; "I should have thought it was just the thing you would like." "Of course I do; why shouldn't I?" he replied, rather sulkily.

His mother wondered at his manner, and his father thought that he did not like to go up to the hall alone, and at once offered to go up with him. No more was said about it that night, and Arthur went early to bed. But he could not sleep. He longed to confess his disobedience to his mother, but his courage failed him when he thought of the grief it would be to her. Then his bat had been left at Stokes Croft, in an old shed at the back of Farmer Pierce's house. How could he fetch it without being seen? for, probably, some one would ask what business he had there, and perhaps he might not be able to get it at all.

After a restless night, he got up as soon as it was light, and, creeping quietly down-stairs, let himself out by the back door, intending to fetch his bat before any one was up. He ran down the road, and through Farmer Pierce's garden; but as he passed the house a dog barked violently, and the old man put his head out of the window, and called out loudly to know who was trespassing. Arthur ran as fast as he could into the shed, seized his bat, and then into the field at the back of the house, meaning to return the other way. He ran on, fearing that some one was pursuing him, without looking where he went, or remembering the Old Well, which, though not very deep, and quite dry, would have been a dangerous place to fall down. As he ran, his foot caught in the woodwork outside it and he stumbled, but, though he quickly recovered himself, the bat which he was carrying flew out of his hand, and fell down the well. He heard the hollow sound it made with dismay, for he knew that, if he went back without it, he should be obliged to confess what had become of it, and his disobedience would then be known. He was still very early. No one at home was up. Was it impossible for him to recover it?

He lay down peering into the dark abyss. He

Everything with Arthur was a word and a blow, and in another minute he found himself, almost to his own surprise, descending rapidly into the dark cavern below. The descent was easy, though his hands suf

had gone to call assistance, and the poor woman felt as if her heart would break from the agony of suspense she suffered before his return.

Several men came back with him, bringing ladders and ropes; but the former were found to be useless, and they determined to let some one down by a rope, to extricate the boy and bring him up. Many people had by this time collected round the place, and two men volunteered to go down, Dudley being too much agitated to do it safely.

A strong rope was fastened round one man's waist and held by those above, while he took with him a smaller one to tie the boy safely on his back. It took some time to extricate Arthur from the mass of stones and rubbish by which he had been wedged in, and a second man, a mason, was let down to assist. Then, slowly and carefully, the boy and his deliverers were hauled up above ground, and Arthur was laid, apparently lifeless, upon his mother's knee.

"He has only fainted," said Mr. Manvers the clergyman, who had come to the spot on hearing there had been an accident. "Some of you carry him home, and then, Mrs. Dudley, if you will put him into a warm bed, he will recover quickly. Give him a little brandy and water as soon as he is able to swallow, and I will come and see him in an hour."

To his mother's inexpressible relief, Arthur soon opened his eyes, and evidently recognised her, though | he was too feeble to speak. He fixed his eyes upon her, as if afraid to lose sight of her again.

"Mother, forgive me!" he murmured, as she laid him in his own bed, carefully shading the light from his eyes.

"You must not talk now, my boy," she replied, kissing him; "another time you shall tell me all that has happened."

He soon fell asleep, but his nervous system had received a severe shock, and he became restless and feverish; and, for some days remained in a state of extreme prostration. No one had imagined that he had received any injury, but when he rose from his bed, he was unable to walk from pain in his knee. The doctor, who was at once sent for, said that the tendons were seriously injured, and that he would probably be confined to his bed for weeks.

Arthur was soon able to leave his bed, but it was long before he could walk. As soon as he could, Lord Anster, who took a great interest in the boy, proposed that he should be sent away for a time, and offered to have him apprenticed to an attorney.

He spent two years in Bristol learning his work, which he did well; but he seemed to have lost all spirit, and he could not bear to come home and see his brother beginning to take the place he had so longed to fill. But he struggled against his discontent, and, by degrees, became reconciled to his

life.

In a great city, such as Bristol, he met with many

temptations, but he steadily resisted them, and when he saw the reckless lives led by so many of his companions he felt that he ought to be thankful for all he had suffered, and for the hard lesson he had learned from his fall into the Old Well.

"THE QUIVER" BIBLE CLASS. 221. Mention a rich promise twice spontaneously vouchsafed as a free gift, and given the third time

as a reward of faith.

222. What two distinct promises did our Saviour make his disciples when about to leave them? 223. What is meant by the declaration in Gal, i. 15?

224. Name the last of the revelations of God to Abraham.

225. What celebrated edifice was erected on the spot which was the scene of the greatest instance of human obedience ?

226. What sacred relic-divinely appointed, and by which miracles were worked-was destroyed by a good king years subsequently?

227. An unexampled sorrow, betokened by a word, used only once in the New Testament.

passage.

Name the

ANSWERS TO QUESTIONS ON PAGE 462. 205. Miriam and Deborah prophesied, and those of the tribe of Levi sang in the Temple (Exod. xv. 20; Judg. iv. 4).

206. Of Christ, in his threefold office of Prophet, Priest, and King. The Passover represented the sacrifice of Christ; the Feast of Weeks, his teaching of the Church by the gift of the Holy Ghost; and the Feast of Tabernacles was symbolical of the reign of Christ.

207. Polished brass (Exod. xxxviii. 8). 208. Sarah, the mother of the faithful, aged 127 (Gen. xxiii. 1).

209. Acts i, 3. His body was unconfined by the laws of nature. He appeared, the doors being shut, and vanished from the view of the two disciples of Emmaus (Luke xxiv. 31; John xx. 19), and finally, unrestrained by the laws of gravitation, rose naturally into a cloud that received him out of their sight (Acts i. 9).

210. Because the disciples were to be witnesses of his resurrection (Acts i. 22), and the full recep tion of this fact was necessary for the faith of future ages.

211. The resurrection of Christ's people is declared by St. Paul to be a necessary consequence of Christ's resurrection (1 Cor. xv. 16).

212. Eber, being 464 years old, surviving Abraham about four years (Gen. xi. 17).

213. On the sixth day-Friday-man was created and subsequently redeemed (Gen. i. 31; Luke xxiii. 54).

214. The seventh from Adam (Jude 14, 15).

his own children did; for she was, for many reasons, a more sympathetic listener. A real affection had sprung up between them, and when he told her of the arrangements he was making for giving up the house in Hackney to her and Harry, she had timidly asked if he must go away-if he could not stay and live with her. Her wish would alter his plans, he said; and he liked to leave young people to enter on their new life alone.

She

But it was not the girl of two years ago who looked forward to that new life with mingled tenderness and awe. Two years may work manifold changes in the character, and Nelly had been making rapid strides under the most fostering influences. was now a woman, older indeed than her years; for from the standpoint of the present she could look back upon a past full of grave and stern realities, which had kept her free from the blinding snares of pride and worldliness. She was a woman, loving knowledge, and feeling aspiration-such a woman as inspires a man, if he is capable of feeling the inspiration, with all pure and lofty aims.

Among the influences which had fostered Nelly's mental and spiritual growth was the friendship of Mr. Dalrymple. He had gone away for a time, travelled up and down Europe, and returned "quite cured," as he told Miss Macnaughten, who had considered his return rather dangerous, and told him so.

66

Douglas will never marry now, I think," said his sister; "he is too friendly with all women to care very much for one. He is turning philanthropist instead, belongs to this society and the other association for improving and advancing and promoting all sorts of things."

And so it was: with a keen interest in literature and art, Douglas Dalrymple had a still keener interest in life. He cared for the former only as they influenced the latter, and the deeper and wider their influence the more he cared for them. A scholar among scholars, the caste of culture seemed to him a narrow one and also a barren one. "What is the use of the engine going on if it leaves the train behind?" he would say; "it will only be sent back along the line to bring it up again; and so it must be with a nation where a few thinkers rush far ahead, and leave the bulk of the people behind them."

He became a constant visitor, with and without his sister, to the little morning room where Miss Macnaughten and her young ladies read, contriving to make himself useful to them in a variety of ways, and getting up for them and their friends readings from Chaucer, and Spenser, and other old English poets. Then, as his sister received once a week in the season, and the Macnaughtens and Nelly hardly ever failed to be present, he had abundant opportunity of cultivating Nelly's friendship. Under the circumstances, Miss Macnaughten did what she considered the wisest thing-and which in all probability was the worst-she proclaimed the fact of

Nelly's er-gagement to the intimates of their circle, so that Mr. Dalrymple appropriated her with perfect impunity. Being rallied on the point, he said gaily, "I am not a marrying man, you know, and I am afraid of unattached young ladies. I am quite safe with Miss Chapelle."

"Are you sure of that?" said the lady, laughing, married and middle-aged as she was, and inquisitorially inclined.

"Oh, quite sure.

When Mr. Palmer makes his

appearance, I shall be ready to hand her over at once," he replied.

'But when is he' to make his appearance, I wonder ?" she asked, for she did not know the whole history of the engagement. "Is he out in India? What is he doing? And what if he should never make his appearance at all?” she added.

"Impossible to say," he replied, making answer to query No. 3, and laughing so as to appear quite heart-whole, even to an inquisitor's eye. She could not see how his heart leapt up at the thought she had suggested just when he felt so sure that he had laid it down at rest for ever.

Mr. Dalrymple was going to the soirée of one of the societies to which he belonged, and which included education among its numerous subjects of interest. It was to be held in the Kensington Museum, and he had the privilege, like other members, of bringing with him one or two ladies. He asked Miss Macnaughten, and any one of the three who chose to go, and it fell to Nelly, as the others had preferred to remain at home that evening.

They set off early, as was Miss Macnaughter's habit, intending also to leave early; but they found so much to amuse them in the course of the evening that their stay was unusually long. For a time they watched the arrivals-and very extraordinary arrivals some of them were. The queerest old ladies, and the most fantastic young ones, seemed to have turned out on the occasion; but then the occasion brought together some thousands of nearly all classes of London society.

"What an odd out-of-the-world set of people," said Miss Macnaughten, contemplating one group after another through her eyeglass.

66

"Not of the world, certainly," said Mr. Dalrymple, with a kindly smile. Those two lovely girls, one on each side of the stout old man, like a couple of nymphs attending on Bacchus, don't see much society, to judge from their beaming looks."

"Now, don't let me hear you railing at society," said Miss Macnaughten; "you see enough of it."

"But, then, I don't look beaming; I look bored, or else my looks belie me, and so do more than half the people I meet."