It was his last year at College, for he would soon be twenty-one, and his mother longed to have him permanently settled at Fairfield.

Though I had heard much of Frank, I had therefore, not seen him as yet, and it was certainly not without a feeling of curiosity that I looked forward to his return. It was evidently with mingled feelings that Mary anticipated his coming home. No longer a mere girl, either in mind or person, and bearing a relation to him which every year made more important in her view, no wonder that something like fear was associated with delight at the thought of meeting again. Would he be disappointed in her? Would he repent the choice he had made? Would his more mature feelings condemn the decision of his youthful heart Such were the questions with which she wearied herself, and which, with many blushes and sometimes with tears, were confided to me. He had said in one of his letters to her that "he did not expect to see her improved after his two years' absence, that was impossible ;" and she, always ready to undervalue herself, tormented her mind with supposing that the reverse of improvement might, nevertheless, be very possible. Then there was her newly-formed connection with the temperance society;-how would he take that? True, she had lately told him, when writing, her views on the matter, and of her union with the society, but he had lightly passed over that part of her communication, treating it

as a trivial affair, and only shewing that he remembered the subject at all by casually calling her his "little abstainer."

Frank had passed the period of College life without being much influenced by the example of the "gay" students. He had been one of those who conscientiously devote themselves to study, and had neither time nor inclination for the frivolities, much less for the vices. of many of his fellows.

Yet it must be confessed that had Mary, with her new views of the evils of intoxicating drink, seen Frank in some of his social hours, she would have trembled with apprehension. He was certainly never known to be intoxicated, and some of his Collegemates did not hesitate to vote him "a bore" for his steady adherence to "moderation." But the insiduous foe was at work. A liking for wine was growing upon Frank, of which he was utterly unconscious, and it had become with him an article of almost daily use. It is true he had heen accustomed to it at home, Mrs. Hamer having the prevalent, but erroneous, notion; that "growing boys need some portion of alcoholic drinks to sustain their strength." Nor would she have participated in Mary's fears, could they together have looked in upon Frank as he took his customary glasses after dinner, or joined the more abstemions of his associates at their intellectual evening gatherings. Not even had she seen the flashing

eye, and heard the rapid and brilliant utterance that testified to the dangerous excitement of his mind, would his mother have dreamed of danger. She would bnt have congratulated herself the more on the splendid talents and the social qualities of her son.

CHAPTER V.

THE DAYS.

Reason's whole pleasure, all the joys of sense,
Lie in three words, health, peace and competence.
But health consists with temperance alone:
And peace, O Virtue! peace is all thine own.

POPE.

(T was in the October of this year that an addition was made to our limited circle of friends in Newburn by a family distantly connected with Mrs. Lister. Mrs. Day was second or third cousin to Mary's mother. She had married early, and now in the prime of life, was the mother of a large family. Her husband held a situation under government, which laid him under the necessity of sometimes changing his place of abode; and it so happened that at this time his appointment brought him to Newburn.

The people with whom I had formerly lodged had left the house they then occupied, which it will be remembered was pleasantly situated at a short distance from "The Cottage." It was a large old-fashioned mansion, dignified by the name of "The Hall," and letting at a moderate rent. It was found, on Mrs.Days's preliminary

visit for the purpose of choosing a residence, to be most eligible and convenient "just the thing," she said, "for a lot of rough boys like hers." There was an orchard and kitchen-garden, beside the small garden in front where Mary and I had passed so many peaceful hours. There were out-houses of various kinds, all of which Mrs. Day declared her "lads" would put to some use. Willie, the oldest, was a rabbit-keeper; Fred, the next, was famous for pigeons; and Charley, still younger, had his pet ducks and chickens.

The Days were a genuine Yorkshire family; the father and mother possessing a large measure of the kindliness and hospitality of disposition generally accorded to people of that county. Mrs. Day was rather tall and slightly made, with a bright countenance that did one good to look upon. She was not exactly handsome, yet one could not but admire her, and Mr. Day has been often heard to say that he stole the prettiest girl in all the town of Doncaster when he married his Kate. Her activity and energy were untiring. No amount of household labour could frighten her; and as to removals, usually regarded as things to be dreaded, they were trifles to Mrs. Day. It was no little matter that could exhaust her patience or ruffle her temper. She was perhaps over-indulgent to the boys; but they had such a wholesome reverence for their father's authority, and she so habitually referred all doubtful matters to his decision, that her leniency was rarely abused.