are as just as his condemnations. In respect of Cornelius the major was more careful than usual not to make himself disagreeable, for his feelings put him on his guard: there are not a few who behave better to those they do not like than to those they do. He thus flattered, without intending it, the vanity of the youth, who did not therefore spare his criticism behind his back. Hester usually answered in his defence, but sometimes would not condescend to justify him to such an accuser. One day she lost her temper with her beam-eyed brother. "Cornelius, the major may have his faults," she said, "but you are not the man to find them out. He is ten times the gentleman you are. I say it deliberately, and with all my soul!" As she began this speech, the major entered the room, but she did not see him. He asked Cornelius to go with him for a walk. Hoping he had only just come in, but a little anxious, Cornelius agreed, and as they walked behaved better than he had ever done before--till he had persuaded himself that the major had heard nothing, when he speedily relapsed into his former manner--one of condescension and thin offence to nearly every one about him. But all the time the major was studying him, and saw into him deeper than his mother or Hester--descried a certain furtive anxiety in the youth's eyes when he was silent, an unrest as of trouble he would not show. "The rascal has been doing something wrong," he said to himself; "he is afraid of being found out! And found out he is sure to be; he has not the brains to hide a thing! It's not murder--he ain't got the pluck for that; but it may be petty larceny!" The weeks went on. Cornelius's month wore out, but he seemed restless for it to be gone, making no response to the lamentations of the children that Christmas was so near, and their new home such a grand one for keeping it in, and Corney not to be with them! He did not show them much kindness, but a little went a great way with them, and they loved him. "Mind you're well, before I come again, Markie," he said as he took his leave; "you're not a pleasant sight moping about the house!" The tears came in the child's eyes. He was not moping--only weakly and even when looking a little sad, was quite happy. "I don't think I mope, Hessy--do I?" he said. "What does Corney mean? I don't want to do what ain't nice. I want to be pleasant!" "Never mind, Markie dear," answered Hester; "it's only that you are not very strong--not up to a game of romps as you used to be. You will be merry again one day." "I am merry enough," replied Mark; "only somehow the merry goes all about inside me, and don't want to come out--like the little bird, you know, that wouldn't go out of its cage though I left the door open for it. I suppose it felt just like me. I don't care if I never go out of the house again."