He was not in love with her-she was not in love with him ; but they liked each other, and there were a hundred interests to bring them nearer, if he gave her his name. His first marriage had been perfect; he did not expect a second to be like it; but there could be degrees of domestic happiness, and he thought that Kitty would make him happier than any other woman he knew. She seemed very lonely; she had no fortune; he felt a man's instinct of protectiveness urging him to take her to his heart, and keep the world from being unkind to her evermore. Had Kitty been a coquette, impulsive, of a more demonstrative nature, he would have lacked courage to marry her; but she was so calm, so even-tempered, so tender to the children, that he felt he should be running no risk for himself. It is natural for a man to think women happier when married. Dr Norman, though by no means an egotist, never feared that it could be a great risk for Kitty. True, she was young, and he was middle-aged; but how many young girls do marry men double their years, and are happy!

Then Dr Norman thought of his children one at a time, and of the probable influence his second marriage would have upon them. He smiled as he recalled Regy's fancied passion-for Dr Norman had naturally heard rumours of this-thinking, what will poor foolish Regy say to me for having forestalled him? But he reflected that Regy would be very little at home for the next few years, and, even if he were, could but be better off for having Kitty to take a motherly and sisterly care of him. With regard to Laura, Dr Norman had no misgivings. Laura adored Kitty, and was of so gentle and relying a nature that, without some strong arm to lean upon, she would be utterly lost. Kitty was strong, and Kitty was staunch. Laura would be infinitely happier for having Kitty's guidance always; Clevy and Wattie wanted a mother sadly; and though he doubted whether his passionate, petted little Prissy would ever yield to Kitty the allegiance which would be her due, he felt that Prissy needed her care more than any of his children. Then Dr Norman thought of himself. He was a very lonely man, and he was forty-five. Could he

support such loneliness always? Would it not be better for him to drink the pleasant cup held to his lips rather than weep for ever for the wine spilled on the ground that could never be drunk any more? The happiness of his first marriage made him shrink from marrying again; but he was wearying of solitude.

How could these children ever fill it? The boys would no sooner be grown to men than they were sure to make homes for themselves; the girls might stay with him longer; but what had Laura and he in common, much as they loved one another? Prissy had much more character, and he felt that Prissy would grow up like her mother; but she was a child at present, and it would be years before she could at all complete his life; and what might not those intervening years bring forth? Lastly, there was the consideration of Kitty's social position. He knew nothing of her family. Was it desirable to give this lady his name till he had learned a little about her own? And then he laughed at himself for the foolish thought. What did it matter to him about Kitty's social position? If she were not of herself good enough to be his wife, no lineage could render her so. Finally, he determined that Kitty Silver should be his wife.

Christmas-day at Shelley House was like Christmas-day anywhere else. To see the way in which Kitty went through the day's business was quite marvellous; one could have sworn that she had made up Christmas parcels for the poor, had decorated churches with holly, had presented Sunday-school children with cakes and clothing and pretty speeches, had ordered Christmas feasts for the servants' hall, all her life. Her power of adapting herself to circumstances was really unusual, and she was ever a little enthusiastic, as if school children's cakes and servants' suppers were dear to her heart. When the business of the day had been gone through, she stole up to her bedroom, which Laura had turned into quite a pretty boudoir for her darling Miss Silver, and, drawing an easy chair to the fire, began to think. Ought she not tell Perry ought she not tell Dr Norman, of the resolution she

He was not in love with her-she was not in love with him ; but they liked each other, and there were a hundred interests to bring them nearer, if he gave her his name. His first marriage had been perfect; he did not expect a second to be like it; but there could be degrees of domestic happiness, and he thought that Kitty would make him happier than any other woman he knew. She seemed very lonely; she had no fortune; he felt a man's instinct of protectiveness urging him to take her to his heart, and keep the world from being unkind to her evermore. Had Kitty been a coquette, impulsive, of a more demonstrative nature, he would have lacked courage to marry her; but she was so calm, so even-tempered, so tender to the children, that he felt he should be running no risk for himself. It is natural for a man to think women happier when married. Dr Norman, though by no means an egotist, never feared that it could be a great risk for Kitty. True, she was young, and he was middle-aged; but how many young girls do marry men double their years, and are happy!

Then Dr Norman thought of his children one at a time, and of the probable influence his second marriage would have upon them. He smiled as he recalled Regy's fancied passion-for Dr Norman had naturally heard rumours of this-thinking, what will poor foolish Regy say to me for having forestalled him? But he reflected that Regy would be very little at home for the next few years, and, even if he were, could but be better off for having Kitty to take a motherly and sisterly care of him. With regard to Laura, Dr Norman had no misgivings. Laura adored Kitty, and was of so gentle and relying a nature that, without some strong arm to lean upon, she would be utterly lost. Kitty was strong, and Kitty was staunch. Laura would be infinitely happier for having Kitty's guidance always; Clevy and Wattie wanted a mother sadly; and though he doubted whether his passionate, petted little Prissy would ever yield to Kitty the allegiance which would be her due, he felt that Prissy needed her care more than any of his children. Then Dr Norman thought of himself. He was a very lonely man, and he was forty-five. Could he

support such loneliness always? Would it not be better for him to drink the pleasant cup held to his lips rather than weep for ever for the wine spilled on the ground that could never be drunk any more? The happiness of his first marriage made him shrink from marrying again; but he was wearying of solitude.

How could these children ever fill it? The boys would no sooner be grown to men than they were sure to make homes for themselves; the girls might stay with him longer; but what had Laura and he in common, much as they loved one another? Prissy had much more character, and he felt that Prissy would grow up like her mother; but she was a child at present, and it would be years before she could at all complete his life; and what might not those intervening years bring forth? Lastly, there was the consideration of Kitty's social position. He knew nothing of her family. Was it desirable to give this lady his name till he had learned a little about her own? And then he laughed at himself for the foolish thought. What did it matter to him about Kitty's social position? If she were not of herself good enough to be his wife, no lineage could render her so. Finally, he determined that Kitty Silver should be his wife.

Christmas-day at Shelley House was like Christmas-day anywhere else. To see the way in which Kitty went through the day's business was quite marvellous; one could have sworn that she had made up Christmas parcels for the poor, had decorated churches with holly, had presented Sunday-school children with cakes and clothing and pretty speeches, had ordered Christmas feasts for the servants' hall, all her life. Her power of adapting herself to circumstances was really unusual, and she was ever a little enthusiastic, as if school children's cakes and servants' suppers were dear to her heart. When the business of the day had been gone through, she stole up to her bedroom, which Laura had turned into quite a pretty boudoir for her darling Miss Silver, and, drawing an easy chair to the fire, began to think. Ought she not tell Perry ought she not tell Dr Norman, of the resolution she

"It is so hard to say either Yes or No when we say it for life," she said, half-crying.

And then Dr Norman gently asked if he had not better decide for her, which he did in a way entirely satisfactory to himself.

CHAPTER XIV.

A DILEMMA.

How was she to tell Perry? How was she to tell Myra? How was she to tell Dr Norman that she had to break faith with these two in marrying him?

Poor Kitty found herself in one of those hopelessly perplexing situations which defy counsel, even supposing counsel to be at hand. She wanted to make Perry happy; she wanted to become a fashionable lady, and live with Mrs Wingfield; she wanted to marry a good man like Dr Norman, and devote herself to him and to his children all her life. But she could not do these three things, and she had chosen one of the three. Was her choice a wise one, and was it irrevocable? She could not bear to think that it was-much as she liked Dr Norman, she could not bear to think that.

On first coming from Dr Norman's study, with his kiss fresh upon her lips, and his frank words of affection and trust still sounding in her ears, she was on the point of writing a decisive letter to Perry, and another decisive letter to Myra; but when she sat down and took pen in hand, resolve and inclination were alike gone. For more than an hour she thought and thought and thought, without being able to come to any conclusion. Well, her promise to Dr Norman was not yet a day old, and there would surely be time and opportunity given her for deliberation. She must put it off till another day. So she dressed herself very carefully for the festive Christmas tea, wearing a new dress, and all the trinkets that Perry had ever given her, and went downstairs, not looking in the least like a person in deep perplexity.