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What could she do but come close--so close that a minute arc of her skirt touched his foot--and asked hi on with his sketches, and set herself to learn the principles of practical s? Then she ine for the hundredth time hoould seem to be a preacher

Presently she leant over the front of the pulpit

'Don't you tell papa, will you, Mr S?' she said with a sudden impulse toup

'Well, I write papa's sermons for him very often, and he preaches them better than he does his own; and then afterwards he talks to people and to ets that I wrote it for him Isn't it absurd?'

'How clever you must be!' said Stephen 'I couldn't write a serh,' she said, descending fro close to him to explain ame of forfeits called "When is it? where is it? what is it?"'

'No, never'

'Ah, that's a pity, because writing a serame You take the text You think, why is it? what is it? and so on You put that down under "Generally" Then you proceed to the First, Secondly, and Thirdly Papa won't have Fourthlys--says they are all es of this being put in great black brackets, writing opposite, "LEAVE THIS OUT IF THE FARMERS ARE FALLING ASLEEP" Then comes your In Conclusion, then A Few Words And I Have Done Well, all this tie, "KEEP YOUR VOICE DOWN"--Iherself, 'that's how I do in papa's serets louder and louder, till at last he shouts like a fars!'

Then, after this childish burst of confidence, she was frightened, as if warned by womanly instinct, which for the moment her ardour had outrun, that she had been too forward to a coer

Elfride saw her father then, and went away into the wind, being caught by a gust as she ascended the churchyard slope, in which gust she had the race, without the self-consciousness, of a pirouetter She conversed for a minute or tith her father, and proceeded ho on to the church to Stephen The wind had freshened his warlow of a brand He was in a mood of jollity, and watched Elfride down the hill with a smile