her father should experience no lack of loving attention.

And so, for a time we leave the quiet home of the Turners, to follow the fortunes of other important personages; first, however, catching a glimpse of William Lister during his visit home, in addition to that taken in an early chapter of my story.

It will be remembered that William had agreed with his employers for a three-weeks' absence. As may readily be imagined his visit was a sad one, his mother, whom he tenderly loved, plunged in grief unmitigated by happy remembrances of the departed; his "sweet sister," for so he ever called her, meekly resolving to indulge no idle sorrow, and to enter on labours he would have kept far from her, and his late father's affairs in confusion and ruin, he had to witness scenes, and to experience emotions, woefully in contrast with the happy feelings which he had so long indulged. But William was not one to brood over his own discomforts, or dream of future joy, unmindful of the distresses of others. During his stay he did all in his power to cheer and console his mother and sister, and exerted himself most effectually in the arrangement of their pecuniary affairs.

When Mary first started the subject of her own determination to enter upon some remunerative employment, William stoutly refused to give it his sanction. But, and here perhaps it must be confessed that a

little of the selfishness incident to human nature was at work,-further consideration, which in passing through his mind carried with it the picture of a certain little shop window, in a quiet street in Edinburgh, induced him to smile upon her project, or at any rate to oppose it no longer. "For," reasoned the little particle of selfishness, "if Mary is employed in any kind of business she will be less likely to find fault with Susan on this ground, nay, may even come to regard her with admiration on this very account." What the occupation was that Mary intended to take up, was, as before stated, unknown to any of us till her plan was ready for execution. But William felt pretty sure that teaching, in some form, would be her choice; and he could not but wish, as he pondered the matter, that Susan's had been the same. He had often wondered that she had not turned her thoughts that way, and indeed had once expressed to her his surprise that she did not prefer teaching to the unintellectual avocation she had chosen.

"I did think of it," she replied, "but how could the daughter of a humble and not sober mechanic, expect to gain the children of respectable people as pupils ? How indeed, could I hope to convince any one in this large worldly city that I was fitted for such an office ?"

William admitted the truth of this reasoning, and still felt its foree, but could not help regretting the results of it in Susan's case.

"And yet, what does it signify?" thought he, "Susan will soon have done with it, and it is, in reality as honourable, if not so genteel, a mode of maintaining her independence."

It signified, however, just this much;-though William cared nothing about the matter himself, it kept him from opening his heart to his mother or even Mary for this time.

"I will defer it till my return to Edinburgh," he said to himself. "I can write better than I can speak on the subject, and in a short time Susan will be no longer a milliner."

work, they

For Susan had consented to resign her business before the winter set in. In truth, her help was no longer needed to keep home comforts about her. So long as her father's strength was equal to his would have enough and to spare from his earnings ; and Susan had hitherto looked on the bright side, and trusted that reformed habits and consequent comfort would subdue the malady that had begun to manifest itself.

Mr. Lister's death had caused William to anticipate a visit home which he intended paying at Christmas. It should be then-so he inwardly resolved, that he would speak of his dear Susan, and so describe her loveliness and worth, that his mother should long to call her daughter, and Mary, sister. But it was three months too soon; he was not prepared as he should

have been then, and though it would be impossible to take another holiday for many months to come, he let the first pass by without once uttering in their hearing the dear name of one whose image was ever in his mind.

So he kept his secret, without any suspicion on the part even of his mother, who only wondered to Mary, "how it was that William had so many business letters to write, one every day at least." She thought "he must be filling some very confidential position in the concern."

Mrs. Lister did not see the daily small missives that William called for at the post-office. Had she done so, it might have occurred to her that some one of the firm wrote a peculiarly delicate hand for a gentleman.

CHAPTER IX.

FRANK'S RESOLVE.

Cursed be the social wants that sin against the strength of youth!
Cursed be the social lies that warp us from the living truth!
TENNYSON.

Men make resolves, and pass into decrees,
The motions of the mind; with how much ease,
In such resolves doth passion make a flaw,
And bring to nothing what was raised to law !

CHURCHILL.

E left Frank Hamer in the arms of his friends, Mills and Kelly, at the door of his lodgings, all unconscious of the degradation into which he had fallen. Their repeated applications to knocker and bell were, for some minutes, fruitless. Frank's hostess was a prim, punctilious person, and would not tolerate under her roof any gentleman whose habits and hours were not within the limits of propriety. Consequently, though this was Frank's first offence of the kind, she was in no hurry to welcome horne the truant, and bade the servant in no gentle tone, to "let the young scamp wait a wee, to bring him tul his wit.”