The illustration on page 392 shows us the memorable scene when Pilate exclaims to the multitude surrounding the palace, "Behold the Man!" The work of a modern Italian artist, this picture is an admirable rendering of the tragic event, the subdued patience of the central Figure contrasting strongly with that of the subservient prefect. ARTHUR FISH. [NEW SERIAL STORY. [Illustration: FOR THE SAKE OF HER CHILD] By Scott Graham, Author of "The Link between Them," Etc. CHAPTER I. Dependent upon Charity. It was a radiant June morning, and the fashionable watering-place--Beachbourne--was looking its best in the brilliant sunshine. Smart carriages dashed past, well-dressed cyclists careered gaily along, and the High Street shops were thronged with fashionable customers. A tall, refined-looking girl, whose exquisitely fitting garb lent additional elegance to her graceful figure, came along the pavement, holding by the hand a pretty, fair-haired child of six, likewise beautifully dressed. At a confectioner's window the child suddenly stopped. "Oh, mummy, do buy me one of those dear little chocolate pigs! I haven't had any sweets for ever so long!" "Don't tease, Doris. I have no money to buy sweets." The child opened great eyes of wonder. "Why, mummy, you've got shillings, sovewins, great heaps of them, in your purse! I saw them!" she remonstrated. And, indeed, Mrs. Burnside's dainty, silver-mounted purse was literally bulging with coin. "They all belong to auntie, and she wants them to pay her bills." And she turned resolutely from the enticing window, whereupon Doris, who was tired with the walk and the heat, burst into loud crying. As her mortified mother strove to check her, a young man in a professional frock-coat and tall hat, who was passing, turned to see the cause of the uproar. Mrs. Burnside's fair face flushed. "My little girl is very naughty this morning, Dr. Inglis," she said, answering the inquiry in his grey eyes. They were but slightly acquainted, occasionally meeting in society. "I want--a choc'late pig," wailed Doris. "Mummy won't buy me one--unkind mummy!" "Hush, Doris," rebuked the young doctor. "A chocolate pig! If that's all the trouble----" and he fingered the few coins in his vest pocket. "May she have one, Mrs. Burnside?" So Doris got her wish; and, once inside the confectioner's, she fancied so many things that very little remained to Dr. Inglis out of a shilling; and he needed all his shillings badly. But he loved children, and already May Burnside's blue eyes had begun to haunt him, She held out her beautifully gloved hand with a grateful smile; and he noticed how thoroughbred she looked as she went with the now happy Doris down the sunny street.