for something better. What that something better was to be he had not definitely determined. Not another head-mastership, he had made up his mind on that point; he never had been particularly partial to boys, and now he hated them. He did not like parochial duty, he did not like anything that gave him any trouble. He did like croquet-playing and parsonical flirtation, cricket and horse exercise. He liked money, and all that money brings; and, after every consideration, he thought the best and easiest plan to acquire it would be to marry an heiress. But there were no heiresses in those parts, and very few marriageable girls. Mr. Benthall had met the two young ladies from Woolgreaves at several garden-parties, and had conceived a special admiration for Gertrude Creswell. Maude was far too grand, and romantic, and self-willed for his taste, but there was something in Gertrude's fresh face and quaint simple manner that was particularly pleasing to him. But after making careful inquiries, Mr. Benthall discovered that Miss Gertrude Creswell's chance of wealth was but small, she being entirely dependent on her uncle, whose affections were known to be entirely concentrated on his son. She might have a few hundred pounds perhaps, but a few hundred pounds would not be sufficient to enable Mr. Benthall to give up the school, and to live idle for the rest of his life. The notion must be given up, he feared. He was very sorry for it, for he really liked the girl very much, and he thought she liked him. It was a bore, a nuisance, but the other thing was impossible!