"She was so good," said they, "that God could refuse her nothing." This artless belief took firm root in the country. No one mourned Mrs Meredith as dead. "She still lives," said the people of the hamlet: "speak to her son, and she will answer you." And when Lord William Kysington, in possession of his grandfather's property, sent each year abundant alms to the village that had witnessed his birth and his mother's death, the poor folks exclaimed--"There is Mrs Meredith's kind soul thinking of us still! Ah, when she goes to heaven, it will be great pity for poor people!" We do not strew flowers upon her tomb, but upon the steps of the altar of the Virgin, where she so often prayed to Mary to send a soul to her son. When taking thither their wreaths of wild blossoms, the villagers say to each other--"When she prayed so fervently, the good Virgin answered her softly: 'I will give thy soul to thy child!'" The _curé_ has suffered our peasants to retain this touching superstition; and I myself, when Lord William came to see me, when he fixed upon me his eyes, so like his mother's--when his voice, which had a well-known accent, said, as Mrs Meredith was wont to say--"Dear Doctor, I thank you!" Then,--smile, ladies, if you will--I wept, and I believed, like all the village, that Eva Meredith was before me. She, whose existence was but a long series of sorrows, has left behind her a sweet, consoling memory, which has nothing painful for those who loved her. In thinking of her we think of the mercy of God, and those who have hope in their hearts, hope with the greater confidence. But it is very late, ladies--your carriages have long been at the door. Pardon this long story: at my age it is difficult to be concise in speaking of the events of one's youth. Forgive the old man for having made you smile when he arrived, and weep before he departed." These last words were spoken in the kindest and most paternal tone, whilst a half-smile glided across Dr Barnaby's lips. All his auditors now crowded round him, eager to express their thanks. But Dr Barnaby got up, made straight for his riding-coat of puce-coloured taffety, which hung across a chair back, and, whilst one of the young men helped him to put it on--"Farewell, gentlemen; farewell, ladies," said the village doctor. "My chaise is ready; it is dark, the road is bad; good-night: I must be gone." When Dr Barnaby was installed in his cabriolet of green wicker-work, and the little gray cob, tickled by the whip, was about to set off, Madame de Moncar stepped quickly forward, and leaning towards the doctor, whilst she placed one foot on the step of his vehicle, she said, in quite a low voice-- "Doctor, I make you a present of the white cottage, and I will have it fitted up as it was when you loved Eva Meredith!" Then she ran back into the house. The carriages and the green chaise departed in different directions. NATIONAL EDUCATION IN SCOTLAND.