treasures it holds. Bath buns there is not much poetry about you and yet at sight of you I am transported to other days and brighter scenes. The boy's heart comes back to me as I look upon your sugar-coated sides. Where are the years and where are the companions of those years when life was all sugar-coated? Gone are the years, gone the friends and what is left to one like me half so sweet as their cherished memory? The past comes back to me as the music of some forgotten melody to the ears of a returning wayfarer who nears his home as I perchance am nearing mine. But this will not do! Another voice calls us onward. We must not bury ourselves in bygone pleasures. What do you think Brinkwater ? ”

"I think they're uncommon good," says Jim, in sequence to the bun, not the reverie of Quirks.

"Of course they are lad, and I am glad you like them. And here am I selfishly forgetting you. Have another bun Brinkwater, and I will ring for tea."

Jim acts promptly upon the suggestion and executes another bun with neatness and despatch, being just at that age when such things as buns are mere trifles in the internal economy of human nature. Over tea Mr. Quirks propounds a few questions and Jim verges upon the loquacious.

"And how are you getting on at Masters and Co.'s Brinkwater?" "Well, Mr. Quirks, I aint gettin orn not at all. You see, Sir, I aint much of a scholar, and Downer says it's no use bein in a orffice without yo're a scholar."

"Should you like to be a scholar Brinkwater?"

"Should'nt I just Sir? You see Sir, I feel that I'm in a orffice and not in a orffice. There's Mrs. Brown now-as cleans the steps and that— she's in the orffice, and so am I; but I want to be on a stool, and a pen behind my ear like the rest of 'em, and I can't see 'ow its' to be done. You see Sir, I don't want to be ungrateful to them as helped me. Brass buttons and chocolates is wery nice; but I should'nt like to wear 'em always, indeed I should'nt Sir !"

"Brinkwater, that is the finest thing you ever said. The man who feels like that can do anything he makes up his mind to do. If you will resolve to become a scholar I promise to help you. We will begin tonight if you like. What do you say Brinkwater ?"

"Well, Sir," said Jim, "I takes it wery kind o' you, wery kind; and me a stranger too. But if you won't mind the trouble I should like to try. But O, my! it does seem a long way off?" "What seems a long way off?"

"Why me being a scholar Sir.”

"Not a bit of it Brinkwater. In twelve months you won't know James Brinkwater. You will think of Jim as of a young fellow you used to know of sadly neglected education, but who some how got mixed up and finally changed into a smart fellow who can write like copperplate, read like a parson, do sums like the Chancellor of the Exchequer ; knows all about history, geography with the use of the globes, and modern languages !"

Quirks wound up with a chuckle, while Jim stood in open-mouthed wonder at this highly-coloured picture of the future, though inwardly conscious of a greater admiration for himself than he had ever known before. The words and perhaps even more the manner-of the honest old man had, however, lit up a spark of hope in the lad's breast and he mentally resolved that he would achieve that position so long coveted but hitherto so utterly impossible to him. Having reached this point, Quirks felt that he had broken down the first and greatest barrier to his advancement, and set to work quite hopefully to induct his young protégé into the mysteries of letters and arithmetic. That night Jim was fairly started on the educational course that was to lead him to prosperity, and that night commenced an attachment between these two which had a marked influence on their lives and characters. If Jim, in the growth of an almost filial love, found a purpose and principle that purified and ennobled him, no less did Quirks discover the greater blessing of him who gives, in the unselfish delight Jim's progress and mental development afforded him; some of his happiest hours being spent over him, so that Quirks speaking of this time was wont to revise the old adage remarking that it was no new experience to him, to find that Heaven sometimes helps those who help others.

In this way then, Quirks and Jim-each of whom had reasons of his own for wishing well to Frank Hardy, who had by sundry kind things become endeared to them both-were brought into close and frequent intercourse, and it was therefore the most natural thing in the world that Jim, as soon as he heard of the disappearance of Hardy, should with the least possible delay bear the startling news to his newly-made friend. Grieved and shocked at the intelligence, and utterly unable to account for it, Quirks was one of the most eager in the search that has been described; and he and Jim found another bond of sympathy in Frank; and many were the discussions they held together and many the supposed clues they followed out to end only in disappointment. Disappointment however seemed only to add zest to their desire for information, and so it fell out that this old man and this youth entered into a bond to give themselves no rest till the truth should be known and Hardy found or his character vindicated.

CHAPTER VI.

THREE YEARS AFTER THE FIRST.

Christmas bells-rousing once again the slumbering spirit of human kindness, warming the hearts of aged and young with their merry music : Christmas bells-speaking in tones borrowed from the song of the angels who sang-"Peace on Earth" :-Bells-with tongues of clanging iron speaking to broken hearts of perished hopes, departed joys, vacant places at the hearth :- Bells in softest whispers reviving the sweet memory of days lang syne:- Christmas bells are pealing as an old and stooping figure, on whom the silent snow has

cast with icy fingers a somewhat heavy robe, plods up to the door of Harland Lodge and knocks for admission. It is Christmas Eve, and the junior members of the Hardy family are in high spirits, for by the morning post they received a mysterious intimation that Father Christmas would call in person in the evening; and every knock has brought a troop of them to the door in eager expectation. The door now opens, a stream of light is thrown out and half-a-dozen faces are peering into the darkness. The old man presents himself and the youngsters run helter-skelter up the hall, up the stairs, or into the first hiding-place. Gathering courage at length, the elder ones approach and ask the old man if he is Father Christmas. He replies in the affirmative and is invited to walk in, when the others come up, peeping curiously at him; for fond as children are of talking about him, when he appears a real live man, they are not uncommonly a little shy of him.

"What is your name?" enquires the eldest girl.

"Christmas of course," he replies.

"Yes, but your other name you know?"

“Well, you must guess. It begins with a Q."

They think it must be Queer, Quick, or Quite, till at last Master Tommy Hardy shrieks out" I know, it's Quirks !"

"Yes, it is Quirks," says our old friend.

"What brother Frank's Mr. Quirks?" asks Mary Hardy.

"The very same, Miss Hardy."

By this time Mrs. Hardy, who has heard the uproar, comes out to enquire the cause. To her Mr. Quirks addresses himself.

"Mrs. Hardy, I am the bearer of an important communication to you, and must beg you to reserve your opinion of the manner of my appearing until you have read it and until you learn what is to follow. I have as you will see Madam-and you my young friends will also notice-a somewhat capacious receptacle at my back and it holds a present for each one here, but this envelope which I now hand to you Mrs. Hardy, and which I this morning received from Mr. Masters, sen., contains words that are of untold worth to you."

Thus saying, Quirks gives to Mrs. Hardy a letter upon which she begs permission to retire for the purpose of reading it. In a few minutes she returns and taking Quirks by the hand thanks him in hearty words for the trouble he has taken in such fearful weather, adding-" But you have indeed removed a load from my heart."

Here is the letter:

Dear Madam,-As the mother of Mr. Frank Hardy, you have the first right to be acquainted with the fact that the bank note, which disappeared in so remarkable a way as to give rise to very painful suspicions, has been discovered under circumstances that Mr. Quirks the bearer of this will explain to you.

deeply regret the pain caused you, and can only hope that, this cloud being removed, your son may speedily be restored to you to complete your happiness. I am, Dear Madam,

JOHN MASTERS, Sen.

Mrs. Hardy. Mrs. Hardy is of course only too glad to induce the friend of her son to stay the night to talk over matters; and while he is taking off his

great coat another knock is heard at the door. Master Tommy runs to open it and immediately begins to caper and clap his hands on seeing a young man standing valise in hand and with unmistakeable marks of the snowstorm upon him. Master Tommy seldom speaks but he shouts, so now in a shrill key he pipes out-" Why here is Father Christmas Junior and he's got some more presents. Come in Junior!"

But "Junior" is not quite so fast, and halts till Mrs. Hardy enquires

his business.

"I have a letter for Mr. Hardy ma'am, which the writer said I was to give into his own hands and no other."

Mr Hardy being not yet at home, he is asked to come in and sit down till he arrives. You would hardly recognise "Jim," for it is he, as he sits chatting with the children. Presently Mr. Hardy reaches home and the letter is given to him by Jim in private. He starts as he reads the address, for he knows the handwriting, and asks anxiously where Jim got it from. Jim assures him that he had it from the writer. Evidently under painful excitement he further enquires-" When?" "Only yesterday, Sir!" Whereupon he breaks the seal and reads what you have already guessed, a letter from Frank. In it he says he is hoping to spend Christmas day with them.

Put

Mr. Hardy asks if his wife knows of this. And being told "No," he hastens to her. She, full of her new joy, is not long in making her husband the sharer of it. He kisses her and gently asks if she thinks she could bear any greater joy. She looks positively alarmed at the question, half divining his meaning yet fearing to know the truth. ting his arm around her, he reminds her God has been very good to them, and that they have not seen the end of his goodness. She can stand it no longer, but must know." Husband, is our boy coming ?" "He is ;" and her overjoyed heart finds relief in tears.

The children soon hear the news and it affects them very variously. Mary looks very serious and sits turning over the leaves of a book. Master Tommy says he must relieve his feelings or it will be fatal to him, and proceeds to walk about on his hands with his heels in the air; and

so on.

In the midst of it all, Jenny, the nursemaid, rushes into the kitchen and threatens to go into fits. She holds her sides, she rocks herself to and fro, she moans forth, "Oh!" and "Oh dear!" till the cook, with a slap on the back, makes her tell she has seen a ghost.

"A ghost! a ghost!" yells Master Tommy in delight. "Hooray! a ghost!" and round he goes again, his legs like inverted commas in the air.

And now, in stalks the ghost-a great fellow nearly six feet high with a rough head and great black beard. The cook, who has been in the family for years, is the first to recognise him, which she does in a manner peculiar to herself

"It is

No, it is'n't! Why, it is Mr. Frank!" and she sits down and fans herself vigorously with a table-spoon she happens to hold at the time.

I am not going into the details of the meeting. Pray indulgent reader imagine it over, and the whole party assembled next day after dinner and hear what each of the new arrivals has to say for himself.

Mr. Quirks, by virtue of seniority, is first with his account of the discovery of the lost note.

"That which I have to say, Mr. and Mrs. Hardy, may soon be told; and when you hear how the lost note was recovered, you will agree with me that the marvel is how it could have been overlooked at the timewhen as you will remember Mr. Masters informed you the most searching examination of his office, and of all the papers that had been taken out of the deed box on that dreadful day, was made. Certain deeds bearing my name had come into the custody of Masters & Co., and concerning these I had occasion to consult the head of the firm no longer ago than last week. The papers were removed from the box in which they had lain from the day of Mr. Frank's disappearance to that hour, I made a note of the information I required, whereupon the deeds were wrapped again in the outer covering from which they had been taken, tied again with tape, lifted from the table where they had rested, and in that very spot lay the £50 note. Mr. Masters seemed surprised, but did not recognise it as the lost note. I on the contrary was simply electrified by the sight, for the number of that note-So2547-is burned into my brain and I instantly felt relieved of an immense weight; for though always convinced of Mr. Frank's integrity, I had also felt this to be the only positive proof to establish it in the eyes of others. When I had shewn Mr. Masters the identity of the note, he wished to send you the news without a moments' delay; at my solicitation, however, he consented to let it remain till I should be the bearer, along with the other important communication which I intended to entrust to Mr. Brinkwater." "But how did the note get there, Mr. Quirks ?" is the universal enquiry. "That I cannot positively say. But I suppose it must have got entangled in the tape on the parcel, and being tied up with it and on the under side of it, might have been lifted into the deed box without detection. And I suppose the parcel was not turned over when the search was made or of course it would have been seen at once."

"I can quite believe," said Mr. Hardy, "that is the correct explanation, for improbable though it may appear, it is confirmed by a circumstance which occurred in my own office. A pair of scissors disappeared for some days and re-appeared, just as you say the note did, upon the reaching down of a parcel from a shelf. The scissors had got tied up with the parcel and put away and as nobody would think of looking in such a place for a lost article, it must perforce remain there till accidentally discovered."

"Yes," replies Mr. Quirks, "and who will venture to call any circumstance trivial, seeing what momentous consequences may arise from so simple a cause ?"

Here Master Tommy interposes with a remark that he detects symptoms in Mr. Brinkwater that a little refreshment would probably allay, and pressed some fruit upon his attention, at the same time helping himself rather freely.