charity. See, here is his speech at the dinner last night of the Hammerers' Company, with a leading article on the subject." But she shook her head. "You may give them money, and ruin their self-respect. What you must give them, if you want to help them, is-yourself." "Dear Rose! I will even do that, if you will give yourself to me." She made no reply, but she made no resistance when he drew her closer and touched her face with his lips. Then he let her go, and they started asunder guiltily. Ten o'clock strikes as a big footman brings in breakfast. They are not early people at this town-house, but they are punctual. At a quarter to ten, prayers, read by Sir Jacob to all the household; at ten, breakfast. Steps outside. Lovers like a peaceful solitude. When they hear steps they start asunder, like a couple of spooning turtle-doves. Ten o'clock is striking as a footman brings in breakfast. He is a very big footman, and of majestic deportment. We are not early people at Sir Jacob Escomb's, because there is so much to do at night that we get to bed, as a rule, late. But we are punctual. Prayers at a quarter to ten, conducted by the chief, no other; breakfast at ten. Perhaps, when Charles Plush, the big and solemn footman, opened the door, he saw something which awakened his suspicions; perhaps it was an accident. In either case, the fact remains that the fall and smash of a cup and saucer caused that couple to separate hastily. Rose thought she had been discovered, when Charles opened the door, arranging flowers in a vase; Julian, that he had been found reading the morning paper. The best of us are but purblind mortals. is always charged in the bill, and no objection has ever been raised to the item, except once, by a Scotchman, who was dining with an aged aunt. He paid it, however, after grumbling, with the remark that it was “just too rideeculous." Breakfast brought in, Sir Jacob and Mrs. Sampson followed. "Not at prayers, Rose?" says the good man severely, as she salutes him. "Not at prayers my love?" echoes Mrs. Sampson, her companion and chaperon. "No, uncle, I came in from my ride, found Julian here, and did not know it was so late." "Good morning, Julian. You, too, might have remembered the hour for family worship." Julian said nothing. Sir Jacob looked through the papers during breakfast often, to see whether his own speeches were properly reported. This morning he was gratified in finding his remarks at the Hammerers' Dinner reported in full, with a leading article on " English Benevolence." There were no debates, and the columns were open to philanthropic outpourings, to correspondence, and to general palaver. The papers despatched, he turned to the letters, of which a pile of thirty or forty lay at his elbow. Those which related to business he laid aside, to be taken into the City; those which were concerned with the "doing of good," he kept before him, and read one by one, with verbal comments. "We take holiday, Mrs. Sampson," he says—" thank you, a slice of toast-but the good work never ceases. Always demands for money-money-money. Lady Smallbeer, her Nursing Institute. General Screwloose, his Home for the Healthy. A lady once in easy circumstances, a new church, In a certain hotel in a certain watering- new organ for old church, surplices for choplace, whither newly-engaged and newly- risters. Pensions for Evangelical Parish married couples do much resort, and where, Clerks' Society; the Beadles' Benevolent such is the contagion of the atmosphere, Building Society; Protest of the Aborigines people often get engaged, it is said that the Protection Act against the thrashing of a waiters have strict orders always, and with- Fantee by a serjeant, during the late Ashantee out any exception whatever, to announce their War. Well, well, these are the daily presence outside the door, and before open- letters of a philanthropist. The luxury of ing it, by dropping a plate. It is a thoughtful doing good is tempered by its labours. I rule, and has saved many a blush to the have a platform at twelve, a luncheon at cheek of the young person. Perhaps Charles two, a committee at four, a dinner, unless I had been a waiter at that establishment. If can get off it, at seven." not, the expedient did equal credit to his head and to his heart. The damage done to the crockery in the hotel of which I speak "We all know, Sir Jacob, the enormous, the incalculable claims upon the time of a public man, who is also a philanthropist." "It is true, Mrs. Sampson," said Sir Jacob, laying his hand heavily on the table, partly, perhaps, to attract the attention of Rose and Julian, who were talking in low tones at the other side of the table, "most true, Mrs. Sampson; and yet, you would hardly believe it, madam, I was yesterday solicited to stand for Parliament." "Nay, Sir Jacob," said Mrs. Sampson, "not the Lower House? I trust you know your own worth too well to become a member of the Commons." The compliment went home. The Baronet bowed, because he had nothing to say, and was, indeed, too much pleased to find immediate words. He returned to his tea and toast and letters. The Lower House! The Upper House! Why not? Sir Jacob Escomb, Baronet, owner, nay, creator, of the great works of Dolmen, in Ravendale. Why should he not become Baron Dolmen of Ravendale? The thought was new, and for the moment bewildering. Jacob, first Baron Dolmen of Ravendale! with, unfortunately, no sons to inherit. But the title might be passed on to Rose and her husband, and their children. He looked at Julia Carteret and smiled. "Your speech of last night, Sir Jacob," said Mrs. Sampson, glancing through the paper, "has given rise to much comment." "Ay, ay; and yet a simple speech." "There is a leading article upon it here, I see. Respectful in its tone, even if hardy, or rather, audacious, in its criticism. For the kind of thing, Sir Jacob, perhaps it might amuse you." Mrs. Sampson spoke as if the paper which would venture to criticise Sir Jacob was presumptuous beyond expression, and as if the only right thing was for writers of leading articles to receive humbly the crumbs of wisdom which might fall from such a great man, and to go lowly, upon hands and knees, before this Golden Calf and other Golden Calves. Sir Jacob took the paper from her, and read the article. Mrs. Sampson, the lady who occupied the position of not housekeeper, not matron— say, President of the Domestic Department to Sir Jacob, was a person apparently about forty years of age, young-looking for her years, with a soft voice, bright eyes, and a full, comfortable figure. She was doubly a widow, having lost two husbands, and she looked as if she was ready to imperil the lite of a third. A pleasant, good-natured, happytempered widow. She thought, quite honestly, that Sir Jacob was the best and wisest man in all the world. Before breakfast was finished, a card was brought to Sir Jacob. "Mr. Bodkin,"" he read, through his double eye-glasses; "Mr. Theophilus Bodkin."" He laid wondering emphasis on the Christian name. "Henry Theophilus Bodkin, Sir Jacob," said Mrs. Sampson, with a sigh. "You have seen my old friend, Henry Bodkin-his second name is Theophilus-an admirer, from a distance, of your philanthropic devotion." "Henry Bodkin? I believe I do remember him. Charles, I will see Mr. Bodkin here." If any one, that morning, had been asked to describe Mr. Bodkin, he would begin by comparing his face with that of Swift's mute, who, the more his master raised his wages, the jollier he looked. There was an enforced and compulsory gravity, battling with a strong, natural disposition to laugh and be happy, which showed that something good, something unexpected had happened to the man. He was dressed in a suit of solemn black, of almost clerical cut, and looked a clergyman very nearly, save that he wore a black tie. He was apparently between forty and fifty; his face was clean shaven, and his hair was turning a little grey. He made a deep bow to the philanthropist. "Sir Jacob Escomb," he began, with a voice of great solemnity, "I have come thus early in the hope of seeing you without wasting your time.' Then he saw Mrs. Sampson. “Lav——, I mean, Mrs. Sampson, I hope you are well. Miss Rose, I am your most humble servant. Mr. Carteret, I trust you, too, are in good health." "Have you taken orders, Bodkin ?" asked Julian. "The last time I saw you, I think you were Mr. Bodkin waved his hand with a deprecatory gesture. "Never mind the last time, Mr. Carteret ; we must not waste Sir Jacob's moments. He is not interested in the circumstances of that interview." "Certainly not," said Mrs. Sampson. "Let me give you another cup of tea, Sir Jacob." "I come here, Sir Jacob," Mr. Bodkin began again, “as a delegate. I am, in fact, commissioned by Lord Addlehede-you know his lordship?" "Yes." Sir Jacob still spoke thoughtfully. "Who are on your committee ? " "At present, Lord Addlehede only; but here is the general prospectus, with a few "Surely; we all know that excellent noble- suggested names. Mr. Bodkin drew a man." "He is the President of our new society --my new society," he looked at Mrs. Sampson with something like a wink, " for the General Advancement of Humanity. Of this noble society I have the honour to be the secretary. Lord Addlehede came to the office early this morning-in fact, before canonical-I mean, office hours. Fortunately I was there. He held in his hand, Sir Jacob, a copy of this morning's paper, in which is reported your speech at the Hammerers' Company." "Ay, ay?" asked Sir Jacob. "Yes: they are reported. And yet my words were hardly intended to go beyond the circle of their hearers." "Sir Jacob's words," murmured Mrs. Sampson, "are too precious to be lightly heard and tossed away. They must be treasured up." "You are very good to say so, Mrs. Sampson. Pray go on, Mr. Bodkin. Will you not take a chair?" paper out of a well-stuffed pocket-book. "Yes-yes. The Bishop of Cackle and Mull-a good man. Sir Chirpington Babble, a sound speaker. The Hon. Gushington Gatheral-I have frequently stood on the same platform with Mr. Gatheral. Major Borington-I think you have made a mistake here, Mr. Bodkin," said Sir Jacob. "Major Borington is a man who uses, I fear, philanthropy for purposes of self-advancement. He has pushed himself into a—a certain kind of notoriety by platform oratory." "Indeed, Sir Jacob-really--had Lord Addlehede only known it. But it is not yet too late. The Major has not been formally invited. Lord Addlehede thought he was a leader among the philanthropic world." "It is not too late," said Sir Jacob, thoughtfully. "There are many men, I am afraid, like Major Borington, who climb the ladder of reputation by an assumption of benevolence.' "Surely, Sir Jacob," Mrs. Sampson expostulated, "there cannot exist such men. Pray take another cup of tea." "Thank you, Sir Jacob. As a Delegate or Deputation, it is perhaps more fitting that "Ladies, madam, are not versed, natuI should stand. Lord Addlehede called my rally, in the arts of ambitious men." He attention to the startling fact that you had spoke as if his own reputation for philanactually alluded to the newly-formed Society. thropy were founded on a solid and disin 'You must instantly, Bodkin,' said his lord-terested basis quite beyond suspicion of sel ship, secure Sir Jacob. Go to him with my compliments. Catch him before he starts for the City. He must be had before we move a step further.' So, Sir Jacob, I am here "Yes," Sir Jacob spoke slowly. "To give the weight of my name, if indeed it has any weight "-here he smiled, while Mrs. Sampson and Mr. Bodkin murmured. Julian and Rose, breakfast finished, were standing among the flowers in the conservatory"since, then, it has some weight, is a serious and even a solemn thing. You propose a Society for the General Advance of Humanity-an advance along the whole line, I suppose. But you will have to select points at which to commence." "Lord Addlehede has suggested the British Cabman. We are to begin the improvement of humanity by improving the cabman." fish ends. "However-about the management of the Society, Mr. Bodkin." "We have secured a first floor in a commanding position in Queen Victoria Street. Lord Addlehede has signed the agreement. We have furnished our two rooms solidly. Lord Addlehede has bought the furniture. We have had our brass plate put up at the door. Our prospectus is in the press. We begin with a hundred thousand, and keep the type standing and while I am here fiveand-twenty girls are writing addresses for us on wrappers at sixpence a hundred." "That looks well. And what will your own salary be?" "I am to begin with-ahem!—with five hundred a year, paid quarterly, in advance. Lord Addlehede has advanced the first quarter's stipend." Mr. Bodkin slapped his pocket with a cheerfulness which was undignified, but softness in Mrs. Sampson's tones which sugwhich he could not wholly subdue. "Ah! It is moderate for an energetic man. And are there any other-advantages in the position?" "We have agreed, Lord Addlehede and myself," Mr. Bodkin replied, with a little hesitation, on a commission-merely nominal-of seven and a half per cent. on all donations. We expect very large support. It is nothing less, Sir Jacob, than an organized attempt to civilise the world. Nothing like organisation in all charitable and benevolent attempts. As you yourself said, Sir Jacob, in your admirable speech of last night, 'Let the men of wealth assist the good causewith a cheque.' To you, no doubt, it would be revolting to witness the depths from which we propose to rescue the British cabman. You, Sir Jacob, could not be expected, as our agents will have to do, to follow the cabman from the mud of the rank to the -the mire of the mews: from the mire of the mews to-alas !—to the public-house: from the public-house to his stably home above the mews." "Certainly not," said Sir Jacob, with dig nity. "And therefore, Sir Jacob, I am deputed by Lord Addlehede to invite you to join him in forwarding the Society." "You may put down my name, Mr. Bodkin." "Certainly, Sir Jacob." The secretary produced his notebook and pencil. "Certainly, Sir Jacob. For how much?" "As one of the Vice-Presidents, Mr. Bodkin." Sir Jacob gathered up his papers. "I shall perhaps not return to dinner, Mrs. Sampson, unless I can escape my engagement. Good-morning, madam. Good-morning to you, Mr. Bodkin." "Lavinia !" escaped from the impassioned lips of the secretary, almost before the door was closed. "Henry, is this real?" gested bygone passages. "You look younger, Lavinia"-Mr. Bodkin stood a little way off, looking at the lady with a critical air-"younger than ever. There are some women who improve, like Stilton cheese, by keeping Others, again, go off like-like beer kept standing in a mug." "And there are some men, Henry"You think so, Lavinia? Do you really think so? To be sure, I am not getting bald, like some young fellows of five-andforty. And I'm not very grey, considering." Henry Bodkin, you are looking better and stronger than you did ten years ago when I saw you just before I—" Here she put her handkerchief to her eyes. 66 Before you married your second, Lavinia. It was a cruel blow. I always looked forward to being your second." "We must blame fortune, Henry. It was just then that you failed in the coal agency line." Mr. Bodkin shook his head. "Pardon, Lavinia. The coal failure was before you married your first. On the last occasion, if you remember, I had just become bankrupt in my select Commercial Academy. Ah! that scholastic institution. There, indeed, the corporal punishments were like Cook's Tours, because they were personally conducted, and always by the principal. It is an ennobling thought. But it is all real, Lavinia. The Society is as safe as the Bank. Lord Addlehede is good for the salary and the rent. Ritol de rol. If need be, I will hire a cabman, the most profligate of cabmen that can be found, aud pay him by results, as he improves. We shall have the gratitude of all the Bishops on the Bench. And now, Lavinia, the obstacles are removed. For the first time in my career there is a permanent income before me. The first and the second are both gone-pardon my abruptSensitive being! My Lavinia weeps. We will take a cottage on the banks of the silver Surrey Canal. There will our lives glide away ness. Mrs. Sampson rose to meet the ardour of her glowing love, and fell, hiding her blushes, upon his shoulder. "Do you remember," he said, “when you heard my first declaration of love-when I was twenty-four and you were twenty-two!" "Eighteen, Henry. You are thinking of the second." "We were sitting by the edge of the canal, near the coal wharf of your late lamented papa, and the setting sun was streaking with rays of red and gold, like a mixture of beetroot and yellow lettuce, the cordage and sails of your papa's fleet, five splendid barges lying at anchor on the bosom of the pellucid stream." "I remember," murmured Mrs. Sampson. By this time she had resumed her seat and wonted tranquillity, though she allowed her lover to hold her hand. "It was the sweetest moment of my life." 6 "We compared the barges to the Spanish Armada. It was when I was beginning life, after a romantic and agitated youth, as travelling agent for Pipkin's Compound Patent Pills. Pipkin,' I said, when we parted Pipkin was in temper, I remember. 'Pipkin,' the worst your worst enemy can wish for you is that you may take a box of your own pills.'" "I thought you were in the self-opening umbrella business at the time ?" "Afterwards, my dear Lavinia. At the moment I was saturated with pills; I breathed pills; I dreamed of pills. If I made poetry, it was in praise of Pipkin's pills. You had to throw me over-your faithful Bodkinand accept old Mr. Chiltern, with his five hundred a year-took the Chiltern Hundreds." Mrs. Sampson sighed gently, and wiped away a tear to the memory of the defunct. "Poor dear Mr. Chiltern! He was the best, the gentlest of souls. We always helped him to bed, the cook and I, every night, after his fourth tumbler ofgin and water. I shall never see such a man again." "I hope not, my dear. And when he was gone, when I was manager of the company for making new bricks out of old, you pledged me your hand again--and again the cup was dashed from my lips-for the company smashed up, and you married-Samp son. Again the pocket-handkerchief. "Poor Augustus!" she sighed. "He had bad temper, it is true. We all have our faults." "Temper!" echoed Mr. Bodkin. "Was there a chair with four legs left when he broke a blood vessel in a rage and went off? Did a week ever pass without his being summoned for assaulting somebody, or breaking the peace somehow? But we will not talk of Augustus Sampson, Lavvy; we will name the day-the blushing morn-that makes you mine." "Always the same-impetuous-eagerHenry. Shall we say when your Society is established and your position secure?" Love in a woman who has been twice a widow is never superior to prudential considerations. I believe that is a maxim held by all who know the sex. "That is already secure, Lavinia," he said. But she shook her head. "With my own two hundred settled on me by thoughtful Mr. Chiltern," she said, "and your five hundred, we could live in a fairly comfortable way, though the change from this abode of luxury would be a great loss at first. Still, for your sake, Henry— And, besides, our dear Rose might marryindeed, I think that Mr. Carteret is here too often unless he means honourable proposals." Phrase of the more banales, as the French would say. But then Mrs. Sampson was not by birth, education, or marriage lifted above the phrases of vulgarity. And, indeed, Julian Carteret and Rose returned just then to the morning-room. It is well known that the gardens on Campden Hill are like the gardens of country-houses for extent and beauty. No doubt they had been talking botany among the flowers. That is a science, it is well known, which brightens the eyes, puts colour in the cheeks, and lights the smiles that lie in dimples round girlish lips. At least it had that effect upon Rose. "He's gone," said Julian, irreverently. "How did you get on with him, Bodkin? Screwed a ten-pound note out of him for a new Society, Rose?" "Mr. Bodkin was just beginning when we went into the garden." "You see before you," Julian went on, "the secretary of the new Society for the General Advance of Humanity. Formerly "Never mind the formerly, Mr. Carteret," interposed Mr. Bodkin, hastily. "We all of us have our ups and downs. This is an up. Yes, Miss Rose, behold the secretary at your feet, metaphorically-of the new Society, of which Sir Jacob is one of the vicepresidents. Fellowship open to ladies—one guinea per annum. Will you become a Fel |