faces about me, and really, though I have had to find fault a little of late, I am quite satisfied with your behaviour. What is the Do you wish to better yourself,' after the fashion of servants, or do you want a change,' as the maids sometimes put it, when they are tired of a place?"

"Well, sir, I am very sorry to have to make a change, for I am quite sure I shall never find a kinder nor more considerate master; nor such another mistress as I have had-such an angel as she were;— and if she had been spared to us, sir, I should have stayed on for years and years, I am sure, but I can't we none of us can't live under anybody but a lady; and Mrs. Marris is a very worthy person, I am sure, and studies your interests, sir, as it is her duty to do; but she is that domineering and that aggravating that I cannot put up with it. And we are all of one mind, and we'd like to go together-cook and Dinah and me!"

"I had no idea that nurse was not perfectly reasonable and good-tempered," replied the unfortunate master, to whom the sudden loss of three efficient, well-trained servants seemed no small calamity. "And I could not part with Mrs. Marris, you knowfor she, as well as Miss Hilda, is a sort of trust from Mr. Warleigh! I promised him-or rather, my late wife did-always to keep her as the little girl's attendant; she had been in the family many years, and indeed brought up Miss Hilda's mamma from almost an infant. Could you not think better of it, and manage to put your horses together a little while longer-you and the other two, and Mrs. Marris? "

"I don't think we could, sir. In fact, it's against my principles to take orders from a fellow-servant; I've always lived under a lady.”

As Frank was leaving the house, he was waylaid by the underhousemaid, who politely begged him to take her notice for that day month, as she thought it best to leave with the others; and he went away in a state of great irritation, wondering whether he had better not at once pay a visit to the nearest register-office-a proceeding which he knew was sometimes adopted by mistresses when they required a fresh staff of domestics. But he felt, he scarcely knew why, a strange repugnance to the unwonted duties so unpleasantly thrust upon him, and as he took his way Citywards it struck him that he might, at least, make one attempt to conciliate the belligerents of the kitchen, and if nothing else would do, raise their wages!

So that same evening, when Hilda was gone to bed, he solemnly interviewed Mrs. Marris, and tried to extract from her some admission of her own want of diplomacy. It was all in vain ; Nurse poured out an overflowing torrent of complaints, and declared

that a more insolent, unmanageable, termagant trio she had never had to deal with. She would try to put up with them for her master's sake, but she was sure it would be of no use, for the maids were bent on their own way, and were determined to resist even the smallest control; and, if Mr. Willabye would allow her to say so, there were just as good fish in the sea as ever came out of it; and if he would only leave it all to her, she would set to work, and without more ado, engage new servants from the country. She was evidently in favour of the wholesale exodus, the prospect of which had filled her master with so much dismay; and she had also an insurmountable prejudice against "those hussies of London servants, who wore earrings, and artificial flowers in their bonnets, and were no more like the good old family servants to whom she was accustomed than chalk is like to cheese." She was quite ready to resign office, and devote herself entirely, as before, to her darling Miss Hilda.

Mrs. Marris, it must be remarked, was a native of Ravenage, in Chalkshire, and she and her parents before her had always served, in unimpeachable fidelity, the Warleighs of Warleigh Place. Still, Mr. Willabye resolved to make one strenuous effort to retain the domestics whom Martha, as he believed, had fully trusted, and of whom she approved; and for that time he succeeded. The wages were to be raised all round; "followers" were to be allowedin reason!—perquisites of various sorts were to remain unquestioned, and certain privileges—rather startling, some of them— were to be accorded. Mrs. Marris promised to try and "put up with the good-for-nothing hussies. The "hussies," privately convinced of their enviable position, promised on their part to "put up" with Mrs. Marris, "provided she was not more than flesh and blood could put up with."

Frank Willabye hoped that "flesh and blood" below stairs would be patient, and so reasonable as not to make fresh demands on the precedent of those already yielded; but he had his misgivings; his dealings with his own domestic staff had opened his eyes a little, and he began almost immediately to doubt the policy which he had pursued. He had concluded a treaty of peace-or so he tried to persuade himself; but he had not the smallest guarantee that war would not break out afresh the moment that there arose the smallest source of disturbance. And his forebodings were all too quickly realised. The new constitution was scarcely inaugurated when fresh sources of discontent began to crop up, and Frank, to his immense annoyance, was once more called upon to adjudicate. This time it seemed best that there should be no more diplomacy, and, accordingly, the notices to leave were quietly accepted, to the chagrin, doubtless, of cook and her coadjutors; and Frank went

down to Hastings for a week that Nurse Marris might have every facility for arranging the new ménage that was to work as on oiled springs without the possibility of the smallest hitch.

And at first all promised fairly, only the new cook's cutlets were decidedly inferior to those of her predecessor, and the new parlourmaid had an unpleasant habit of snorting under her breath as she changed the dinner plates. Still, as drawbacks must, and will, occur, Mr. Willabye concluded to ignore the unsuccessful breakfast dishes, and to feign unconsciousness of the disagreeable performances alluded to between the courses. He was immersed in business all day long, and sometimes forgot all about his honsehold in the square, from the time he started off to catch his omnibus at the corner of Tottenham Court Road till he found himself alighting at the same spot in the evening. He was thinking very seriously whether it would not be more satisfactory to himself, at least, if he followed the example of certain bachelor friends of his, who dined regularly in the City, and praised the menu and the cookery of the "London," in Fleet Street; at that time at the zenith of its popularity as a first-class restaurant.

And he tried it for a week or more, and found the cuisine all that could be desired, and the evenings spent at Drury Lane, or at one of the neighbouring theatres, passing far less wearily than those in the solitary dining-room at home. But he had been accustomed too long to his own fireside, and to the company of his wife, to find any continued satisfaction in the noise and glare of public places of entertainment; and at the end of the first fortnight of his experiment he had begun to moralise on the weary, stale, and flat unprofitableness of evenings from home. Hilda, too, was certainly deteriorating; she was getting rough and boisterous, and losing all the pretty little ladylike habits in which Mrs. Willabye had so sedulously trained her. He began to reproach himself for neglecting the child, who was growing prettier and more engaging day by day, and it suddenly struck him that she ought to be learning to read, and was much discomfited when he discovered that she had absolutely refused to learn her letters.

Just then came a long, confidential epistle from Mr. Warleigh, with many loving messages for his little girl, and expressing hopes of her improvement in mind as well as in person. The news of Mrs. Willabye's death had not yet reached him, for he complained of her long silence; and, indeed, Frank had delayed communicating the tidings of his bereavement so long that Mr. Warleigh had set off on a tedious journey "up the country" some time before the black-edged letter and the mourning-card had reached Calcutta. The usual remittance was enclosed-not a very ample one certainly-but more than sufficient for all Miss Warleigh's needs.

2

Mr. Willabye decided that Hilda must either go to school, or that a morning governess must be forthwith retained on her account. To the mere notion of school Mrs. Marris was at once violently opposed; a boarding-school was out of all question, and there could not possibly be any day-school in that neighbourhood worthy of the privilege of conducting the education of Miss Warleigh, of Warleigh Place. In the same breath she admitted that it was high time she made acquaintance with her A B C; and she could not but deplore her own want of firmness in the matter, inasmuch as any attempt at this most needful elementary study resulted in poutings and frownings, most painful to behold, and finally in sobs and tears, which were altogether more than Mrs. Marris could endure.

Frank himself tried his hand on the young lady for one or two mornings before he left for business; he bought the loveliest illustrated alphabet and the prettiest picture-book that juvenile literature could produce, and he did his best to delude Miss Hilda into the belief that she was only learning a charming new game; but he failed so signally that on the third morning he hastily decamped, lest the threatened storm of weeping should ensue, and on the fourth morning it was found that the kitten had been amusing herself with the picture alphabet to such fell purpose that it lay in tatters upstairs and downstairs, and in the little lady's chamber.

Then Frank said sternly that a governess must be engaged, and that without loss of time. Accordingly, there appeared every morning, when the clock struck ten, a Miss Bloomfield, a pretty, amiable girl, who was instructed to introduce herself to Miss Warleigh as a playfellow, much addicted to dolls and doll-houses— a ruse intended to lead up to something a little more intellectual than waxen babies and their establishments. And so long as Miss Bloomfield was contented with dolls and their furniture, with farmyards and Noah's arks, and boxes of bricks; so long as she told stories and showed pictures, all went swimmingly; Hilda welcomed her arrival with enthusiasm, and wept aloud when twelve o'clock called her delightful companion away to give real lessons in another house; but the moment that "reading made easy began to be discussed the pupil turned restive, and could only be coaxed into the merest glance at the detested alphabet.

About this time one of Mr. Willabye's friends, whom he consulted, advised him to advertise for a lady-housekeeper, who would at once superintend his household and little Miss Warleigh's education. He-Mr. Simpson-knew of a very nice lady, not too young, domestic in her tastes, musical, and good-looking, who was at that very moment seeking a situation; and he was sure Mr.

Willabye could not do better than secure her services before she closed with any other person.

"A lady-housekeer!" he exclaimed, in horror; "the very thing I have always dreaded. Why, she would want to dine with me, to spend her evenings with me, to pour out my coffee in the morning."

Mr. Simpson agreed that a lady-housekeeper would certainly expect to appear at his table; but then, that would be the advantage. "Why, my dear fellow," he insisted, "that is exactly what you require. A lady, well educated, accustomed to good society, intelligent, musical, and strikingly handsome! What more could you desire? Her references are undeniable; she is a wonderful manager; you would find your household wound up every morning like a clock; everything would be smooth and easy; and in music, a few friends now and then, and pleasant conversation, your evenings would pass delightfully."

"All very fine," was the grim response, "and in six months she would marry me! Remember, I am an unprotected widower." "Don't you mean to marry again?"

"Decidedly I do not. I shall never find another woman like my dear departed wife; I never guessed her worth, never knew what a treasure I possessed, till I had laid her in the grave. No, Simpson, I shall never marry again-do not speak of it."

"It is early times yet, of course, to allude to such an event," replied Mr. Simpson; "but if you have quite resolved on remaining a celibate for the future, you are safe. Men can't be married against their will, you know."

"Oh, cannot they! My experience of the world convinces me of the contrary. A widower, with a good establishment, shut up with a designing woman, handsome, plausible, musical, and all the rest of it, has about as much chance of escaping matrimony as the rabbits in the reptile-house at the Zoo have of escaping with their lives. No, thank you; I decline your fascinating friend. If I do have a housekeeper she shall be ugly-at the best, strikingly plain; she shall not know a note of music, but she shall know her place, and keep it too. Nothing shall induce me to furnish my house with ready-made man-traps."

Mr. Simpson was not the only friend who was kind enough to propose desirable arrangements of this sort, and to recommend ladies who boasted birth, beauty, accomplishments, and every possible domestic qualification, to the solitary widower, who so sorely needed someone to take care of him, of his little ward, of his household generally. He was beginning to think he would shut up the house, dismiss all the servants, and, with Mrs. Marris and Hilda, seek refuge on the Continent-at Killarney-at the