With all these interests and occupations, Jin had yet found time to knit a tiny pair of socks for her Gustave. Tears filled her eyes while she pictured the delight of fitting them to his chubby little feet, that very afternoon as he sat on her knee. Though she had many faults she was yet a mother, and in mothers, even the most depraved, a well-spring of natural affection is to be found as surely as milk in a cow. Helen, too, returning radiant from morning church, looked, to use Sir Henry's expression, "seven pound better" than the day before. Something seemed to have infused fresh vitality into the girl's existence; but of Helen's sentiments I cannot take upon me to furnish an analysis. In the pure unsullied heart of a young and loving woman there are depths it is desecration to fathom, feelings it is impossible to describe, and it would be sacrilege to caricature. None are so thoroughly aware of this as those who know what the bad can be in that sex, of which the good are so excellent. Well for him, whose experience has lain amongst these last, and who goes to his grave with trust unshaken in the most elevating of earthly creeds--a belief in woman's love and woman's truth--whose worship of her outward beauty is founded on implicit confidence in the purity and fidelity of her heart! Such privileged spirits walk lightly over the troubles of their journey through life, as if they were indeed borne up by angels, "lest at any time they dash their foot against a stone." Sunday luncheon, then, at The Lilies was a pleasant and sociable meal enough. Mrs. Lascelles, though surprised to find she _did_ miss Goldthred a little, seemed in exuberant spirits, perhaps for that very reason. The rest took their tone from her whom they considered their hostess, and the repast, which differed only from dinner in the absence of soup and fish, being excellent and elaborate, no wonder everybody was in high good humour, and more disposed to talk than to listen. The conversation at first turned upon yesterday's doings, and it is not to be supposed that the dress, manners, looks, character, and presumptive age of every other woman at the pic-nic escaped comment, criticism, or final condemnation. Sir Henry, indeed, true to his traditions, made a gallant stand in favour of one lady, the youngest of the party, "a miss in her teens," as she was contemptuously designated by his listeners, but found himself coughed down with great severity and contempt. He couldn't mean that odious girl in green ribbons! She was forward--she was noisy--she had freckles--she romped with Captain Roe--she flirted with Mr. Driver--she was ugly, unlady-like, bad style. Even Helen wondered quietly, "What papa could see in her? Though, to be sure, he always admired red hair!"