fellow and tutor of Balliol, he had to do with fast men at that college, such as there were. As a pro-proctor, who was taking a somewhat peculiar line in the university, he had to do with fast men of other colleges-very fast men; men who could not be tolerated at Balliol for half a term. But his brother Tom was faster than any of them. Arthur had to do with many cases of fast lads. The last was that of a servitor at Christ Church, who had been hunting in pink, and owed 500l. (a real case). Arthur had seen to this lad's affairs, and had compounded with his creditors for about eighteen years' penal servitude. I mean that he

was to deny himself every luxury and pleasure for some eighteen years, to pay off the debts, with the interest on them, which he had contracted in one year among winemerchants, livery-stable keepers, and grooms. When will lads give over believing that hunting at five pounds a day is the summit of human happiness? When are the dons going to forbid fox-hunting?

But this servitor lad was penitent, and promised amendment. Tom was nothing of the kind. Arthur had been the agent between his father and his eldest brother in the last settlement of Tom's everlasting debts. He had taken to the Squire a schedule of Tom's debts, which he knew, by his dawning knowledge of the world, to be only a half statement; but he had taken it, and asked for payment.

The sum was so fearful-eight thousand pounds-that he, brave as he was, knowing that sum was not all the reality, was frightened when he presented it. He did not recover his nerve until the Squire, in his cursing, cursed him as an accomplice. Then anger gave him nerve, and he resumed that old ascendancy over his father which his perfect rectitude had in the first instance given him feeling at the same time like a villain, because he was sure, in his innermost heart, that the schedule of Tom's debts was understated. The moment when Silcote the elder recovered from his furious indignation sufficiently to tell Arthur that he could trust him at all events, was probably the most bitter and the most degraded of his life.

The C. C. servitor had told the truth, and had been penitent; not that the penitence of that sort of young gentle

man is of much use, unless they are steadily whipped in by a stronger hand and will. His brother Tom, as he knew perfectly, whenever he chose to know, had not told the truth, and there was not one half-penny worth of penitence about him. So Arthur was in contemptuous variance with his brother. Tom's persistent wrong-doing and waste of life were to his mind inexplicable and hateful; and, moreover, Tom had outstepped an arbitrary line which the world lays down, and the world was beginning to talk. How long he might stay in his present regiment was very doubtful.

And so not caring to look much at his brother, he looked another way; and the other way happened to be Miss Lee's way; and, as she had her eyes turned away, he had courage to look at her; and, when he had begun looking at her, he found he could not leave off; she was beyond all he had ever dreamed of. This was the creature he had complained of as being boisterous, and had-heavens that wouldn't do to think about. She was sitting quite alone, and no one was speaking to her; every one was busy round his brother. What could a gentleman do but go across and speak to a lady under such circumstances? Was she unconscious of his approach? If so, why was her heart drumming away such a triumphant tune? But, at all events, her air was one of extreme unconsciousness, when, with a sudden start as he spoke, she turned her wondering, lovely face on his.

CHAPTER XIV.

ST. MARY'S BY THE CITY.

ST. MARY'S Hospital was founded much about the same time as Christ's Hospital, was nearly as rich as that very noble institution, and in some respects closely resembled it. Like Christ's Hospital, it was hemmed in to the great city, and the boys wore a miserable and ridiculous dress. Here the resemblance between that noble institution and St.

Mary's ceased altogether. St. Mary's had copied its faults, but none of its excellences; at all events, results seemed to prove so. Christ's Hospital has, I think, 600 boys; St. Mary's, with nearly the same wealth, has 190 odd. Christ's Hospital has turned out, and turns out every year, some very noble men. St. Mary's never turned out anything, not even-forgive the pun-a good many boys who had much better have been turned out.

Some little mistake in the founder's will had begun the ruin of this place. Lands had been left in Essex, Northumberland, and Cornwall for its maintenance, from which the master was to receive 50l. a year, and eight fellows 201. a year each, that they might educate in the fear of God, grammar, plainsong, and the use of organs, and also maintain, free of cost, any boys that might be recommended to them by any future benefactors of the hospital. But, out of the surplus funds of the hospital, twelve boys were annually to be apprenticed to trades, or, if they seemed to have gifts, to be sent to the universities of Oxford or Cambridge. Moreover, each year, the two best scholars were to be sent, the one to St. Paul's, Oxford, the other to St Dominic's at Cambridge; at which colleges funds had been provided for their maintenance.

A foolish, rambling, kindly bequest. Let us see very shortly how it was acted on.

The first thing to notice is, that the institution became richer year by year, until its wealth was gigantic. A years rolled on, the wild bleak hungry farms in Cornwal where rent had been so difficult to collect, came to turn ou their tons upon tons of tin, and the Northumberland estate vomited up their tons of coal in rivalry. The Lincolnshir estates now almost equalled in wealth the two others pu together. The spire of Fenton Magna, one of the living which came into their gift at the Reformation, which ond gathered tithe from a little easterly knot of poor farms, an dominated a great saltwater-ruined tract, spreading easteri to the sea; now looked on broad rich fen lands as far the eye could reach, and gathered its tithe from 8,000 acr of the richest and best farmed land in the world, instea of from 800 of the poorest and worst farmed. They we

Mary's ceased altogether. St. Mary's had copied its faults, but none of its excellences; at all events, results seemed to prove so. Christ's Hospital has, I think, 600 boys; St. Mary's, with nearly the same wealth, has 190 odd. Christ's Hospital has turned out, and turns out every year, some very noble men. St. Mary's never turned out anything, not even-forgive the pun-a good many boys who had much better have been turned out.

Some little mistake in the founder's will had begun the ruin of this place. Lands had been left in Essex, Northumberland, and Cornwall for its maintenance, from which the master was to receive 50l. a year, and eight fellows 201 a year each, that they might educate in the fear of God, grammar, plainsong, and the use of organs, and also maintain, free of cost, any boys that might be recommended to them by any future benefactors of the hospital. But, out of the surplus funds of the hospital, twelve boys were annually to be apprenticed to trades, or, if they seemed to have gifts, to be sent to the universities of Oxford or Cambridge. Moreover, each year, the two best scholars were to be sent, the one to St. Paul's, Oxford, the other to St. Dominic's at Cambridge; at which colleges funds had been provided for their maintenance.

A foolish, rambling, kindly bequest. shortly how it was acted on.

Let us see very

The first thing to notice is, that the institution became richer year by year, until its wealth was gigantic. As years rolled on, the wild bleak hungry farms in Cornwall, where rent had been so difficult to collect, came to turn out their tons upon tons of tin, and the Northumberland estates vomited up their tons of coal in rivalry. The Lincolnshire estates now almost equalled in wealth the two others put together. The spire of Fenton Magna, one of the livings which came into their gift at the Reformation, which once gathered tithe from a little easterly knot of poor farms, and dominated a great saltwater-ruined tract, spreading easterly to the sea; now looked on broad rich fen lands as far as the eye could reach, and gathered its tithe from 8,000 acres of the richest and best farmed land in the world, instead of from 800 of the poorest and worst farmed. They were