“It gives a one-sided effect to his eloquence,” said he. But he thought that he understood when an unguarded movement revealed a rent which had been a mended place in the surplice. “Poor fellow,” said Harry. He recalled how, as a boy, he had gone to a fancy-dress ball in Continental smallclothes, so small that he had been strictly cautioned by his mother and sisters not to bow except with the greatest care, lest he rend his magnificence and reveal that it was too tight to allow an inch of underclothing. The stockings, in particular, had been short, and his sister had providently sewed them on to the knee-breeches, and to guard against accidents still further, had pinned as well as sewed, the pins causing Harry much anguish. “Poor fellow!” said Harry again, “I wonder is HE pinned somewhere? I feel like giving him a lift; he is so prosy it isn't likely anyone else will feel moved to help.” Thus it came about that when the dean announced that the alms this day would be given to the parish of our friend who had just addressed us; and the plate paused before the Lossing pew, Harry slipped his hand into his waistcoat pocket after those two five-dollar notes. I should explain that Harry being a naturally left-handed boy, who has laboriously taught himself the use of his right hand, it is a family joke that he is like the inhabitants of Nineveh, who could not tell their right hand from their left. But Harry himself has always maintained that he can tell as well as the next man. Out drifted the flock of choir-boys singing, “For thee, oh dear, dear country,” and presently, following them, out drifted the congregation; among the crowd the girl that Harry loved, not so quickly that he had not time for a look and a smile (just tinged with rose); and because she was so sweet, so good, so altogether adorable, and because she had not only smiled but blushed, and, unobserved, he had touched the fur of her jacket, the young man walked on air. He did not remember the Saint Bernards until after the early Sunday dinner, and during the after-dinner cigar. He was sitting in the library, before some blazing logs, at peace with all the world. To him, thus, came his mother and announced that the dean and “that man who preached this morning, you know,” were waiting in the other room. “They seem excited,” said she, “and talk about your munificence. What HAVE you been doing?” “Appear to make a great deal of fuss over ten dollars,” said Harry, lightly, as he sauntered out of the door. The dean greeted him with something almost like confusion in his cordiality; he introduced his companion as the Rev. Mr. Gilling. “Mr. Gilling could not feel easy until he had----” “Made sure about there being no mistake,” interrupted Mr. Gilling; “I--the sum was so great------”