without which education has no real beginning, and on which the education of universal man will rest byand-by.

Thus, studying from half-past eight till half-past eleven, they then had their luncheon and a short play. After this they took up some lighter work or their writinglesson till half-past twelve or a quarter to one, when they finished and were free to go home. But they often stayed till nearly two o'clock playing about the garden or orchard, or else sitting in the still churchyard, a favourite spot of theirs, particularly that solitary portion which stole out towards the wildness of the moors. Here they brought Flamingo and Chico and Bell, here little books to read, and here they confided to one another their innocent thoughts and secrets.

In the spirit of that universal love and pity for all things which breathed and lived-nay, often for what was insentient, and which was one of Lilian's most exquisite characteristics, the baby's solitary grave had not been forgotten. This the more particularly, that since the faded rosebud had lain there, its parents had sailed away to the far regions of Australia, so that its dust lay solitary and unvisited. But Lilian and Lawrence made such oblivion negative. They brought some old scissors and cut the pretty turf; they planted tufts of violets as a border round, and often going there to sit, talked low and sweet about the dead.

A greater attraction than even this drew them hither,— its vicinity to the Old Red House and its neglected wilderness and gardens. Since the time of their first visit, a large pile of thorns had been thrown against the gap; but autumn now coming with its golden fruits, the village boys made it afresh, in order to seek the apples and plums and nuts which hung ungathered, or lay in heaps beneath the trees. This the children found one day early in September, and it was the subject of much talk and speculation, more particularly as they had incidentally heard that the Lawleys' little granddaughter was there, and had been so for some weeks, though none of

the village people had seen her; for but few ever came from that shadowed solitary house into the village, except old Mrs. Jonas, the Lawleys' housekeeper, to buy such things as were wanting, and this she always did with as much quickness and taciturnity as she could; otherwise, few steps ever passed or repassed those lichencovered thresholds.

One day, when autumn was at its loveliest, when russet beauty filled the orchards, when purple glory blushed upon the vines, Nelly Crossthorn's long-expected invitation came. It was for a day in the succeeding week, and therefore, as they had been working very hard since the close of May, the children's dear mamma resolved that they should have a full fortnight's holiday; and going from Nelly Crossthorn's to Saltwood Mill, spend a delightful week there; and from thence to Lowshore, pay a long-deferred visit to good old Captain Bunnett and his daughter Esther,-sweet characters both of them, and worthy of being known.

The day after this invitation came, their lessons were closed earlier than usual, by Mr. Rich being called away to attend a sick parishioner on the moors; the children therefore took their luncheon, and went with it into the churchyard, accompanied by Chico and their good little monkey-for very good he was, though sometimes a little cross and naughty to fine Poll, of whom, I must confess, he was sadly jealous. As there was some trifling gardening matter to do that morning to the little grave, they went thither, the deep shadows of the hedgerow making it a cool and pleasant spot. Whilst Lilian effected this-for hers was the supreme hand in all these things, Lawrence spread out the luncheon on the mossy hedgerow-bank,—— this to please Lilian-on pretty plates made of leaves. As it happened to be, through Mrs. Vander's and Mrs. Oakleaf's bounty, an unusually nice luncheon that day, it looked quite charmingly, the more, that Punchinello, taking up his place beside a little cream cheese, held out his paw for a piece, and the sprite, wagging his pretty tail, barked little silvery barks as a signal to begin.

The children had just seated themselves side by side, when they were startled by the sound of loud and angry voices, as though from the precincts of the Old Red House. Then it died away, and all was again still; but the shadow of something still more strange fell presently upon the grass before them, and looking wonderingly round, they beheld a very old man regarding them and their little meal intently. He had a cunning imbecile look, otherwise he was not decrepit; and from his coming in the direction of the shadowy pool and gap, they judged, and rightly, that it was old Andrew Lawley.

Without waiting to be addressed, he drew nearer—and stared with still more idiotic and eager expression at the viands; then with a puzzled look of wonder, fear, and doubt, he regarded both children. Equally wonder-stricken, they remained unmoved; and for an instant, the only sign of his presence was, that little Chico drew away into the hedgerow with his tail between his legs.

"You are not the children from the Hall," he said at length in a weak whispering voice, whilst he smiled and raised his withered finger, as though to express caution. "You've nice faces, and they haven't, I know, because they want to take away all Isabel's money, and send me and Walter to prison; but they won't. Isabel shall be rich, and I can keep secrets. No! you're nice good children, and will give me some of that." Here he pointed to Mrs. Oakleaf's delicious cake. "It's for Isabel, for Miss Stonebox, her governess, says she shall have no dinner, and old Jonas turned me out of the kitchen because I tried to hide a little bit of ours for her. Oh ! they're very cruel to me,-they're cruel to the child: they're digging a grave for Isabel as quickly as they can.' Again he looked eagerly towards the cake.

If the look which flitted across her pretty upturned face were rightly read, Lilian was about to say something expressive of childish abhorrence, or to bid the old man go, but Lawrence stayed her by a glance.

"I should like a bit of that cake for Isabel," whispered the old man in a still more supplicatory voice; "she's very