However, as soon as Mr. Wilson had passed out of the observation of the ol young lady and the porter, and the door had fairly closed upon him, he ceased h humming, as suddenly as if he had been a mechanical bumblebee, and his works

No. 11, VOL. II.

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E ENGLISH WOMENS DOMESTIC MAGAZINE

THE FAMILY SECRET.

BY THE AUTHORS OF "UNDER A CLOUD."

CHAPTER XXIII.

THE gentleman who followed Lotty into the street was a reverend gentleman, and his name was Wilson. We made his acquaintance at the altar when Lotty was married, and he is unfavourably known to the dear reader as the writer of a flunkeyfied letter to Miss Dacre.

In some Christian gentlemen of modern times, Adam appears to be expelled only to make way for Eve. The Old Man being conquered by a process which an ingenious friend of mine calls sitting down on yourself, in comes the Old Woman, with her budget of small vices, and her bandbox-virtues equally unpleasant. It is a melancholy, a deceitful, but not an uncommon result, nor one at all hard to understand. Mr. Wilson afforded a fine example of it; only in him the roots of the Old Adam still stuck, and at periods when the tide of moral feeling was low within him, they appeared above the surface ugly and dangerous as the snags on an American river.

Mr. Wilson walked out of the hotel in a leisurely, unoccupied manner, drawing on his gloves as he went, and making a humming noise which was too secular for a psalm-tune, while the hummer's position as a clergyman forbade the assumption that it was a song. 'Twas a comfortable humming noise, unconsidered, like the purring of a cat or the droning of a tea-kettle, with a few high notes now and then like the swell of an Eolian harp. Altogether there was something about it happy and guileless beyond description; something that seemed to vouch for the hummer's being untutored in the ways of men. I believe it to be a famous accomplishment, that hum. Properly managed, a man might attain quite a good character by it alone. How it would tell in a dean! or a great lawyer!

However, as soon as Mr. Wilson had passed out of the observation of the oldyoung lady and the porter, and the door had fairly closed upon him, he ceased his humming, as suddenly as if he had been a mechanical bumblebee, and his works

No. 11, VOL. II.

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had stopped. Looking sharply up and down the street for Lotty, he found that she was not visible in either direction; which was so much to his surprise and annoyance that he became quite hot. "Surely," said he to himself, "she cannot have run away-she seemed scarcely capable of standing! Dear me ! what a misfortune, what a cruel, cruel blunder I have fallen into in not hastening-oh, there you are!"

There she was, standing in an opposite doorway, and looking up to the windows of the hotel, at the ghosts of herself and of Herbert that haunted them. A streetlamp shone down upon her face, and showed how pale, how careful, how absorbed

it was.

Mr. Wilson lost no time in crossing over to her: she did not seem to notice his approach, and when he tapped her shoulder was so far from starting, as Mr. Wilson expected, that he started himself.

"Do you not know me?" he asked, in a high, sweet voice, (originally adapted for the Sunday school) as she turned her incurious eyes upon him,

"No, sir," she answered.

"No? I am a clergyman."

"Then you are a gentleman, and will leave me to myself, I am sure!" "Impossible, Mrs. Grovelly!"

At this exclamation, delivered in a tone significant to vulgarity, the poor lady started like a bird surprised in a thicket, and, in its surprise, leaping into the fowler's hands. She was caught. Mr. Wilson gave her to understand that by his manner, though he did not at all know why he was catching her; while, for her part, she did nothing but tremble under the hand which he still kept on her shoulder, without reflecting that he had no right to catch her.

"You know me now, Mrs. Grovelly ?"

"You are the clergyman who married me."

"I am!" returned Mr. Wilson in a deep bass voice, which seemed to signify that he was now prepared to bury her. "And when I remember how short a time has passed since your marriage, I cannot help feeling astonished to find you in this strange position. My dear madam, what has happened ?"

"Don't you know?" she asked in return, looking into his face with unnatural sharpness.

This reply seemed to irritate Mr. Wilson. There was much impatience in his tone as he said

"Well, well, it is not difficult to guess! I-I think not," he added reflectively, as he once more caught the glitter of her eyes, watching him. "However, it is near midnight, your dress is saturated with rain, and it will not do to stand talking here. Allow me to show you to your lodgings, Mrs. Grovelly."

"No, I thank you!"

“Excuse me, but I hope present circumstances excuse my asking, why not?" "Because I would not have you give yourself the trouble."

"Trouble? not at all, I'm sure. I'll call a vehicle at once."

"No, no! I do not wish you to accompany me. Pray leave me!"

I had rather be alone!

"Really, Mrs. Grovelly, I cannot do any such thing. It is unreasonable to I can leave you in this plight! Come!" "I beg your pardon, but I refuse."

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