Perceval thought himself vastly clever, but they could tell him that others knew better than he did with all his wisdom. When he established a night-school for the ploughboys and hinds, the gentry thought him revolutionary and playing with edged tools which would give him an ugly gash one of these days; and when he gave Sunday afternoon lectures in his library on popular science, and the lives of great men, even the good vicar looked grave, and said that he wished he had not made it Sunday; and every one knew that the vicar never said an ill word when he could say a good one, and that when he whispered grey, other folks might be expected to shout out black. The lectures however did not take. A few of the best, and some of the worst, young men in the place went to them for a short time; but the former were disappointed at the want of doctrine, and the latter at the want of fun. Between the two they came to an ignominious end for lack of listeners, and the neighbourhood was avenged and appeased.

Had Guy been a fine big fellow like Wilfrid Machell for instance, but Wilfrid with enthusiasm and a belief in humanity, or like Arthur-given to causes, not deeds-he would have carried his points victoriously. But a mean-looking little fellow, who has only money and ideas, does not do much in the way of forming a new public opinion in the teeth of the old. Thus it came about that Mr. Perceval, representing wisdom, cried from the housetops in vain, and got no one to listen to him save here and there a private friend, made into a disciple for motives of self-interest.

There was Lady Machell, for instance. She cared nothing for causes, but a great deal for Machells, and would have sold the most cherished tradition of her life for so much money down; but she was one who always showed herself a sympathetic listener, and who adopted such of Mr. Perceval's crazes as she could without expense or too much personal inconvenience. It was only for a time, she thought; when she had him safe as her son-in-law she would put an end to all this folly, and mould him into a more reasonable shape than he had now. His crazes came now from the fact that he had no wife to interest him and no wife's family to direct him. When a wise hand was laid on the reins all would come right: and hers should be that hand.

She had fixed her eyes on him for Hilda; and when Lady Machell had made up her mind, others might as well make up theirs to yield. It had to be done, and a good will makes obedience so much easier. Hitherto however she had cultivated him with the most charming show of disinterested friendship, the most consoling assurance of sincere sympathy with his views and ideas. She was always ready to talk with him on his pet subjects, and she

2

invariably caressed his ruling craze; and not the wariest fish in the matrimonial waters baited and angled for all round could have seen the faintest flash of her hook, so deftly was it concealed, so skilfully played.

Hilda was still in the schoolroom, and seldom appeared even at afternoon tea; which in general is licensed to include 'buttercups.' Sometimes, but rarely, she came down accompanied by her governess and on her way for her afternoon constitutional; but in general she was strictly hidden and kept out of sight like contraband. Her brothers, when they were at home, were allowed to take her for walks, as a treat; but as a rule she was never seen without her governess-an awful kind of woman who acted as the most admirable duenna; and her reputation for beauty, and what she would be when she came out, stood all the higher for her present careful obscuration.

His best friend-this was what Mr. Perceval called Lady Machell. She was his most sympathetic listener; and he loved her with a really touching devotion; for if he had a restless brain, he had a steady heart, and was as affectionate in nature as he was hobby-horsical in mind. He had tried to interest Mrs. Smith of Owlett, but she only looked and listened and remained unmoved; and though Muriel was softer and more sympathetic, yet she was too young and had no influence. She might be his disciple, but she could not be his coadjutor; and he was looking now for women who would carry out his ideas, not only for girls who would believe in them.

As he drove to-day into the barren weed-grown sweep of Machells he came with a new discovery-the value of oatmeal porridge-milk and oatmeal porridge. The one had forty-nine constituent elements, the other was rich in phosphates. Oatmeal makes bone and muscle; milk gives roundness, a fresh complexion, sweetness of blood. Could porridge be introduced into England as a general article of food the nation would be saved. He came now with a bag of meal and strict directions how the porridge was to be made. He was a man for whom the universe is always new, and whose own last acquirements of knowledge are absolute novelties to every one else. What he had just learned, he thought that no one else knew; but he was liberal with his knowledge and imparted his discoveries freely.

They were all sitting as usual on the garden seat placed against the house, when the Manor dog-cart drove up. By virtue of her brothers' presence Hilda too was there, and her governess was not— the prettiest young girl to be found for miles round; the meeting of brook and river making a perfect bit of present human scenery

with the promise of lovelier things to come; and as yet unconscious of the charms that she possessed.

Lady Machell received Mr. Perceval in the manner of a favourite guest, with a fine shade of almost maternal tenderness shining like gold on the higher lights of her bearing. Wilfrid, to whom the owner of the Manor was especially distasteful, and always had been from the time when they were boys together, and the dwarf beat the giant in the class-room but was a clumsy little obstruction on the playground, treated him with a coolness which was certainly not polite, seeing what were my lady's designs; but Arthur, who was sweeter tempered, was better mannered; and between the two Wilfrid's sourness scarcely counted. As for Sir Gilbert, he was one of those quietly stolid souls who never show love or hate, prejudice or passion, haste or regret, but who meet all the world with the same face, and neither betray when they are bored nor show when they are pleased; and Hilda thought every man stupid but Derwent Smith. She was in the age of dreams, and Guy Perceval was scarcely the knight whose coming would awaken her.

What have you in that bag, Mr. Perceval?' asked Lady Machell, after the formalities had been gone through. It looks like flour.'

It is the best stuff in the world,' said Guy Perceval, thrusting the bag at arm's length into Lady Machell's face; makes the best bone and muscle going; is fuller of nutriment, richer in phosphates than any other food. It is a treasure; and will be just the thing for Miss Machell. I have brought you some to try.'

'But what is it?' she asked again, pleased that he had singled out Hilda for his especial interest; not seeing that this was merely on account of her youth, and because he held her as an unformed immaturity who had to be made by food, like a bee in the pupa state, or an infant in the cradle.

6

Oatmeal,' said Mr. Perceval. For porridge.'

'Oh!' said Lady Machell, who had been in Scotland.

The young men laughed.

That horrid stuff, mamma?' cried Hilda in dismay, forgetting for a moment the teaching which inculcated silence and submission to the mother's will as the best breeding of the best born.

'It is very wholesome, I believe,' said Lady Machell, ignoring the laughter of her sons and the repugnance of her daughter alike, as she put her delicate fingers into the meal and rubbed the grains with quite a critical air.

'It is salvation,' said Guy. If we could get our poor and rich

alike to eat porridge, we should be the finest nation in the world. No more rickety children, no more flabby muscles or gelatinous bones; we should be the most splendid race that has ever lived; and a splendid national physique means national virtue and domination. We are the products of food. By food we may be made with narrow foreheads or broad ones, with dull brains or fine ones. Given good food, we have the like results in digestion, flesh, and intellect. The thing is as sure as a rule-of-three sum.'

'Is that your latest, Perceval?' asked Wilfrid with a sneer. "When I was last here, I remember that the demoralization of England was in our system of drainage, and that our salvation was to be had by using tanks made after a certain pattern, and a peculiar kind of pipe.'

"The importance of one thing does not destroy that of another,' said Guy Perceval with perfect serenity. He was accustomed to buffets, and took them as part of the burden carried for truth's sake. Drainage is as valuable now as it was last year, and a fine food-material does not touch the question of tanks and pipes. Oatmeal is not to supersede hygienic arrangements, but to help.'

'Yes,' said Lady Machell, glad of a word that she could echo and a rope that she could hold by; not to supersede, but to help.' "The Scotch live on oatmeal,' said Wilfrid drily.

And see what splendid men they are!' Perceval returned.

'Granted; fine brawny fellows enough; but I fancy not all the world before us. There are as good brains out of Scotland as in it; and an English gentleman need not take the odds from a Scotch laird,' was Wilfrid's disdainful rejoinder.

'Weight tells in the long run, and the average weight of the Scottish brain is greater than ours,' said Perceval.

'Good news for the elephants,' returned Wilfrid, with less logic than contempt.

All reformers are laughed at,' said Perceval stolidly. Only do you try my panacea, Lady Machell. I am sure it would do you. good, and Miss Hilda too.'

'Don't, Hilda. It will spoil your skin,' said Wilfrid. 'I don't think I should like it; but if mamma likesShe looked at her mother with dutiful acquiescence, and Guy Perceval smiled in approval.

'Lady Machell will like,' he said in a tone of conviction, not unreasonably acquired. Boiled twenty minutes; plenty of salt; and then eaten with cold milk.'

Thanks; yes, I will certainly try it,' said Lady Machell with admirable self-possession. For breakfast, you say?'

'Yes, and supper too, if Miss Hilda takes supper,' he returned,

his face beaming with delight. Truly Lady Machell was the most sensible, the most admirable woman in the world; and the best mother! I have just taken some to Owlett, and though Mrs. Smith did not seem to be much moved by my arguments-a very wooden kind of woman that-Miss Smith promised to try it.'

'Oh!' said Lady Machell.

'She looks in such splendid health already,' he went on to say, 'I scarcely could say that she wanted to be improved. But she can try it, and at all events it cannot hurt her. What a beautiful creature she is!' enthusiastically.

Both thought Guy

Wilfrid frowned and Arthur flushed. Perceval always disagreeable, but at this moment insufferable; and both longed for five minutes of savage life when they might tell him so.

'Yes, she is a pretty girl enough for those who like that style,' said Lady Machell with well-executed indifference. For myself, I prefer something crisper and more compact. Don't you think she is too tall? Those very tall girls are so rarely straight, and never strong.'

But Miss Smith is as straight as an arrow, and seems to me in magnificent health,' said Guy, looking rather astonished. Muriel's beauty was a public confession in the neighbourhood, and to hint at a twisted spine seemed as strange to him as it would be to an artist were he told that Raffaele was decidedly coarse and had no true sense of beauty.

'Yes, at present; but I do not fancy that any of the Smiths have good constitutions. I always have believed, do you know, that Mr. Smith is in a madhouse.'

Lady Machell said this quite confidentially, but without a sign of faltering.

Guy Perceval changed colour.

"Yes?' he answered, with evident agitation. I have never thought of that. Good heavens! if it should be so! A madhouse!-and that boy is certainly a little odd.'

'Very. He always was,' answered my lady quietly.

'Mother!' cried both brothers in a breath.

'What nonsense!' laughed Arthur. He is as sane as any of us here.'

6

And saner than some,' said Wilfrid grimly.

'I do not say that he is out of his mind, my dear, but he is certainly odd,' repeated Lady Machell. And I should not be surprised to find that my idea is the solution of the mystery.'

Guy Perceval looked thoughtful. The shaft had struck in a tender place, as she meant that it should. Health was the great