“Ah, my dear,” she said, “you are diving deep into the abysses of human nature. The questions you ask may be also put concerning very different people from this poor woman. Perhaps such questions might be asked, in a degree, concerning all of us—at least, until we begin to put them to ourselves and to know all that is meant by God’s desiring ‘truth in the inward parts.’ Mrs. Morison tells lies. She is, according to my belief, a very deliberate and skilful deceiver; but far be it from me to say that her hypocrisies may not reveal what was once her ideal—ay, and that, in some vague way, she may still mean to live up to it—only foredoomed to failure because she begins with false pretences. My dear, we talk about criminals and weak and fallen people of all sorts as ‘having our common human nature’; but, talk as we may, we rarely realise it. The temptations they have are so different that this difference blinds us to the truth that their thoughts and feelings and failures are made of the same stuff as our own. Mrs. Morison is a deceiver of others; but it is quite possible that she is also a self-deceiver.” “I cannot see what interest such a capable woman could have in taking trouble to lay deliberate plots of deception to get into such a place, and then taking no more trouble to keep up the deception, and so losing it in two months,” said Lucy. “What has she made by it? She has done lots of work, and has earned less than three pounds.” “There it is!” cried Miss Latimer. “You must remember we are looking at it from what you have believed and from what has happened. From all that transpires of the cousin’s lack of truthfulness, it is quite likely that Mrs. Morison had not been out of a place for many days when you took her. We will, for convenience’ sake, grant that the Edinburgh story is true; then if she gets another place to-morrow (as with her appearance she easily may) she will simply tell the same story she told you, and will ignore her experience of your place as if it had never been. And it is quite likely she will go to the new place—as it is likely she came to you—believing that she means to turn over a new leaf and to be what she seems. In the meantime we must leave off talking about her and consider what you are to do next. You must get another servant as soon as possible. You cannot be without help in this house, apart from the engagements that begin with the New Year.” “I won’t go back to that registry office,” said Lucy stoutly. “Shall I advertise?” Miss Latimer mused. (_To be continued._) THOMAS ARNE. (THE ENGLISH AMPHION.) “Where Covent Garden’s famous temple stands, That boasts the work of Jones’ immortal hands, Columns with plain magnificence appear, And graceful porches lead along the square.” _Gay._ [Illustration: COVENT GARDEN IN 1660.]