takes the desperate resolution of throwing herself upon the generosity of her unsuccessful suitor. She leads Jedediah into the garden; and now for a scene in the best style of French fiction. “Do you love me, Mr Jedediah?” I said. The poor fellow had a moment of joy and hope. “I ask if you love me well enough to wish my happiness, even if that should cause you pain?” “Yes,” said he, all at once overcast again. “And do you feel yourself capable of doing all you can to aid the accomplishment of what will be grievous to you?” “Perhaps,” replied Jedediah with a sigh. “Mr Jedediah, I love Harry Gordon.” “I feared so!” “I wish to marry him.” “And you reckon on me to win the consent of Mr North. But nothing will move him, Miss Lilian: he has discovered that Mr Harry’s father is a Puseyite, and his aunt a nun in Ireland. His conviction is that Mr Harry is a treacherous foe who has got into intimacy with him for the purpose of stealing his papers and spying upon his conduct. Nothing will move him!” “I am aware of it, so I have made up my mind to marry without his knowledge.” “Without his knowledge! But who will marry you?” “You, Mr Jedediah!” “Me!” “Yourself, my good, my dear Jedediah!” “But,” went on Jedediah, after a moment’s consideration, “even if I were weak enough to consent to so culpable an action, such a union would not be valid in the eye of the law. Not being a member of the Established Church, I cannot celebrate a civil marriage. You must go before the Registrar; and, as you are both under age, this official will not marry you without your father’s authorisation in writing.” “Alas! what are we to do?” Jedediah reflected. “What would you say if I undertook to get this authorisation for you?” “I should say that you are our good angel.” “Then, let me manage.” I held out my hand and he kissed it. His glasses were moist with tears. Three days later, he brought me the document which I required. He was very pale. I would have asked questions, but he let me understand that he would not answer. “I have done wrong for your sake, Miss Lilian,” he said. I learned afterwards that he had procured my father’s _blanc-seing_ under pretext of a petition addressed to the Government against the Ritualists, and especially against the use of surplices, baldaquins over altars, and confessionals.