"Never mind what I said," she cried in a great heat; "and if you want to teach me," she added, "begin at once, before I get through my dusting. I like to be usefully employed when I am learning anything."

"But you are usefully employed when you are learning what is useful."

"Stuff!" said Mrs Banyan.

When Mrs Banyan made use of this expressive monosyllable, it was a sign that any further discussion would be offensive to her. So Chrysippus, who was secretly surprised at gaining his pupil with such ease, thought it well to begin her higher education at once, before she had time to cool. Having opened the old cabinet, he extracted from a shelf of manuscripts a page of note-paper, which was adorned by the solid characters of his late parent. With this precious relic between his finger and thumb, the youth seated himself with professorial dignity in his high-backed chair, and fixing his calm eyes on his former nurse, addressed her as follows: "The best course of education, my dear Banyan, begins by impressing on the pupil certain universal laws, from which dissent is impossible, and which explain all the phenomena of the universe, physical, mental, moral, and social. This paper, which I hold in my hand, explains the world."

"And neither him nor his father ever beyond the parish!" was the comment of Mrs Banyan. "And how do you know all this?" she asked.

"You very properly bring me back," he said, "to the preliminary

question. You must ask, 'Of what have I knowledge?' and I reply, 'You know nothing, and can know nothing, but your own sensations." For instance, when you say, 'I know that there will be flowers in the spring,' you mean that after the lapse of a certain time (of the origin of the idea of time I shall speak presently) you will experience sensations of sight, touch, and scent, which when associated in a special manner you distinguish as flowers."

This language was not altogether new to the pupil, who had often heard her young instructor discoursing with himself to the same effect and in the same style. On this occasion she was content to observe with a sniff, "Then, if anything goes wrong with my nose, there will be no spring next year."

Chrysippus was not alarmed by this criticism. "The connection,' he continued, "between the limitation of knowledge to the sensations of the individual, and the certainty of the universal physical laws, by which we are warranted in asserting that winter will be followed by spring, is a subject too difficult for you at present. Leaving this for a future occasion, we will now pass from the fundamental law of the nature of knowledge to the corresponding law of human action. The motive of action is the pleasure to be gained or the pain to be avoided by the action; and this is true of the action of every man."

"Well, I never did think well of men," said the pupil.

"And of every woman," added the inexorable logician.

This was too much. "You horrid little scamp!" cried Mrs Banyan, positively standing idle in her amazement. "Do you suppose, she went on, with growing indignation, "that I took charge of you all these years to please myself?"

calmly.

"Please myself, indeed!" she exclaimed, now thoroughly angry. "I tell you that I stayed here because I wished; and I wished, because it's not right to leave a wretched orphan to take care of himself; and nobody else in the village would ever take such a place. And as for any pleasure which I have had in this house, or any satisfaction in you, since that awful night"-and here she checked herself, as was her wont, just half a minute too late.

"What awful night?" he asked. There was a strange contrast between tutor and pupil at this moment. In her face was clearly shown the struggle between temper and the desire to curb it, and her voice had a sharp sound, which, for all its fierceness, was not far from tears. In his cheek there was no flush, in his lips and fingers no movement of excitement. If the woman had aroused in him either sympathy or irritation, there was no outward sign of either. His words were clearly uttered in their usual tone, and his voice had a judicial calmness, with no trace of curiosity, when he asked, "What awful night?"

"The night your poor father died," she answered, after a minute's pause. "Did you admire him so much?" "Of course," she said; "heaven forgive me!" she mentally added.

"And in what way have I been less satisfactory since that particular date?"

"Drat the boy!" cried Mrs Banyan, "he's a perfect questioning machine! But you may do your answering for yourself," she

"Who is Margaret?" he asked. "There, there! and I meant to see if I could not surprise you for once, though it's my opinion that nothing under an earthquake would make you move an eyelash."

"But who is Margaret?"

"Well, if you must know, she's my niece, and I've sent for her to help me to take care of the house; for I am not so young as I was, and, do what I can, I can't keep the place clean." And here she fell to rubbing the furniture, as if she had just found it, and was shocked by its neglected state.

"Do you like her?" he asked.

"I have not seen her since she was a little girl," she answered, "but she promised well, and they say she's fond of work. Besides, she is not afraid to come, and that's something."

"But why should she be afraid?" "Now, I won't answer another question," said Mrs Banyan, firmly; "but one thing I will say, my niece has had too much schooling to please me; so don't you get talking to her any of that nonsense which you were talking to me just now.

"But it is not nonsense." "Stuff!" said Mrs Banyan. Some days after this conversation, Chrysippus, returning from the garden to his books, found a young girl actively rubbing the old cabinet which stood behind his chair. The cupboard creaked and groaned; but careless of the expostulations, she hummed a little song like a bee at work among the flowers. It was an evil day for the venerable confidant of Mr John Strong's secrets. When the outside had been polished to the verge of agony, the doors were turned upon their wheezy

hinges, and the shelves within laid bare. The cabinet, which even Mrs Banyan had so far respected, that only the tender touch of a feather-brush had visited it, was at the mercy of this young adventurer, and all its treasures of tomes and papers were face to face with the iconoclastic duster. But the imminence of the danger roused Chrysippus from his surprise.

"Oh, pray don't touch my father's books!" he cried. Perhaps it was his earnestness which brought the smile to her lips. She was smiling, as she closed the old doors, and turned to him.

"How do you do, sir?" said she. "How do you do? Margaret," said he; and having said it, he felt a little awkward, and blushed. slightly.

Was no birth of light so fair since the world's first dawn, as on that morning. During the few weeks, which had gone by since the old house was made bright by the footsteps of Margaret, there had been cloud and shower, shower and cloud now, on a sudden, was a day for the fairies. Chrysippus had never heard the sheep-bell on the distant slope so clearly, nor the nearer babble of children's voices in the village street. The wind of heaven had never stirred the hair about his temples so softly, nor borne so freshly the smell of rich soil, of growing crops, of flowers that filled the earth and air. The student was amazed at the strange acuteness of his senses; but somehow as he thought of his new emotion it was gone, and the charm of the world passed by. He was a little impatient with himself. Was he, who understood nature to its deepest depth, to be cheated by whispers of Nymph from stream or wood? Was he an idle fellow who must meditate poetry, because, forsooth, there was more oxygen about than yesterday? Why, it was his pastime to watch the earth together with more important planets come into being, because for a time in

same

the aggregate of atoms the force of attraction was greater than that of repulsion. He would mark, how with a sweet simplicity the same undiminished matter gathered into mountain, river, tree, and flower, then packed closer still in fish and bird, in beast and man. He had only to pursue the train of thought, until the dividing force was everywhere in excess; and lo! man, beast, bird, fish, flower, tree, river, mountain, and the round earth itself, became once more a loose group of like atoms drawing nearer to the sun. One who could imagine all this at eighteen years of age, was not to be tickled in the nose and ear by the spirit of summer. A closely-packed bundle of dissimilar parts, he stood outside the universe, and watched it through the glasses perched upon his delicate nose, with a kindly patronage. Its infinite variety was to him an inevitable heterogeneity.

He felt that he must get to work; so he took down a volume, and sharpened a pencil for marginal annotations. But his occupation was not satisfactory. He knew all that was in the book, and his attention wandered. Men and women were gossiping in the road, and

their voices disturbed him. Being unable to banish them, he determined to accept and explain them, but it was stupid work. After mentally taking to pieces and putting together the chief speaker, he could only repeat the same process until the whole group was exhausted. The student of psychology yawned. Men and women are so painfully alike, and brains and spinal columns are all of one pattern. While he was languidly dissolving the village butcher, there suddenly rose from the garden a song as artless, frank, and sweet as the morning. In a moment he was ashamed of the work on which he was engaged. It was presumptuous-nay, more, it was indecent; there was no word for it but vile. No difference in human beings indeed! Who could sing like Meg? If their throats were of the same fashion, why could not they use them? Her movements in the daily work were made to music. She was like the great composition of a master, which was yet full of simple melodies. She was snow in sunlight, grass in dew, dawn in untrodden meadows, fresh roses, fresh lilies, fresh daisies, fresh lettuce, fresh cream. She was fair, and sweet, and good. She was princess and dairymaid, cook and fairy, star alone in heaven, and candle in the cottage window. Who could describe the flood of fancies which poured through the mind of this young man so suddenly gone mad? Through all those days, while maid Margaret put the house in order, the stream had been rising higher, and the deluded youth had been unaware. With the song heard at that disturbing hour, the first ripple had gleamed above his outworks; and a moment after, the whole broad flood poured in. How his paper embankments went down! Books freighted with the most ponderous words were of no avail. On

the stream came back the lightfooted breeze, bright with sounds of birds, sheep-bells, and children, fragrant with earth and growing crops and blooming flowers. The whole morning, which he had so carefully shut out, was back upon him, as if the garden song were the summons of a fairy. Chrysippus, who was now stark mad, thought it was. He looked at the distant hills, gave a great sigh, snatched up his hat, and put it on. That hat, which was wont to cover as cool a brain as could be found, was for the first time slightly on one side. As he made for the door, it opened, and Mrs Banyan appeared on the threshold. She stared in amazement. She rubbed her eyes, and looked again. She was not dreaming; and there certainly was a faint flush in his cheek.

"Meg must go to the hills with me," he said, eagerly. If he had asked for the moon, or for a work of fiction, Mrs Banyan could not have been more surprised.

"But she has got her work to do," she objected.

"It is a shame," he cried, "that she should work so hard. She has no time for books nor country walks, no holidays, no pleasure."

"No pleasure!" exclaimed she, rather tartly. "Suppose that it is her pleasure to work, what then?" Chrysippus could not think of the right answer at the moment; and she continued

"If the girl was idle, she would be wretched; but there! I suppose that it's one of your fads to have people happy in your way instead of their own.'

"But I say that it is a shame that Meg should work so hard, and I sit idle. Because we men are stronger, we make women slaves. The position of woman is degraded, and not to be endured."

"You have endured seeing me

work for a good many years," observed Mrs Banyan, drily.

"O Banyan," he entreated, "let me ask her to come! You have no right to prevent her," he added, hotly; "she ought to do whatever she likes. All men and women should do what they like."

"Even when it is wrong?" asked

she.

"How can you say what is right or wrong? Nobody should show even by a look that he disapproves of another's act. It is gross tyranny."

"Well," observed Mrs Banyan, "I never have smiled at a thief, and I never will."

"O Banyan, do let her come!" begged the youth, coming down with great rapidity from the elevation of the lawgiver. "I feel as if I should live, if she would take me away to the blue hills."

The good dame was softened. Had Margaret meditated a walk with any other young man, she had been under lock and key in no time; but Chrysippus was so comically unlike other young men that it was hard to find a reason for refusing his request. Besides, deep in Mrs Banyan's soul was amazement at the change in Chrysippus. For the first time, since he was three years old, she saw in him the signs of strong emotion. She felt as if something had given way in him. She seemed nearer to him than she had ever been since he was a little child. Her motherly heart went out towards him, she smiled on him without consciousness of a previous intention to smile. The smile almost widened to a laugh, and her face beamed like the sun at noon, as she said

"There, there! go and enjoy your

self."

Maid Margaret needed no persuasion to woo her from the narrow

garden. Each moment she had been glancing at the sky with half a sigh, and had followed with her eyes each bird that darted with a thrill of pleasure over the wall. Besides, since in her youth she was more sanguine than her aunt, the wish of Chrysippus seemed to change him in a moment to a wholly new person. Every day she had learned to pity him more and more. He was so unable to be young, even so unconscious of the possibility of youth, so cold in taking kindness, so mercilessly just to himself and others, that his presence had already begun to chill her glad spirits, and to make her sigh at odd moments with a new appreciation of pathos. Now, instead of this lifeless thinker, suddenly through the tangled sweets of the garden came a boy with flush and blush and eager prayer; and with no doubt she put her hand in his to lead him out of the shadows. It was a summer day's miracle, and the whole duty of woman was to prevent a reaction.

For a time they went in silence. Her thoughts were a half-formed hymn of thanksgiving for the beauty of the time, and the joy of her companion. He followed where she led, filled with an emotion of delight, with a strange wonder that all things were so fair; perceiving the earth and air, song of birds, and charm of the girl beside him, as vivid parts of one boundless beauty; making no effort to distinguish the pleasure gained from each, but for the first time, since he was a little child, glad.

He was tired first, as was natural. They had just reached the edge of the downs, and, descending a little, she chose a seat where the grass was deepened and wrinkled about the roots of an old tree. Away on the left the sun was already moving towards the west, and the rays spread downward like a fan, touching the low-lying hills from end to