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"See there, Aura Don't you think he has been raising spirits, like Friar Bacon?"

"What do you know about Friar Bacon?" asked Harriet

"He is in a little book that I bought of the pedlar He had a brazen head that said-'Time is, Time was, Time will be'

I wonder if Mr Arden would show me one like it"

"You ridiculous little fellow to believe such trash!" said Harriet

"But, Hatty, he can really light a candle without a tinder-box," said Eugene "His landlady told Palmer so; and Palmer says the Devil fleith Friar Bacon; but ave hirave with his own nails"

"Little boys should not talk of such things on Sundays," said Harriet, severely

"One does talk of the Devil on Sunday, for he is in the catechisene "If he carries Mr Arden off, do you think there will be a great smoke, and that folk will see it?"

Aurelia's silvery peal of laughter fell sadly upon Betty's ears in front, and her father and Mr Arden turned to ask what made them so merry Aurelia blushed in embarrassment, but Harriet was ready

"You will think us very rude, Sir, butthe life of Friar Bacon, and he thinks you an equally great philosopher"

"Indeed, my little master, you do me too much honour You will soon be a philosopher yourself I did not expect soan auditor," saidthis the effect of his sered to inspect the grave he was digging with his own nails

They were at home by this time, and Betty are that they had been followed at a respectful distance by Palmer and the coachman Anxious as she was, she could not bear that her father's dinner should be spoilt, or that he, in his open-hearted way, should broach the ate, and on being told that Mr Dove had a packet from my Lady for the Major, she politely invited him to dinner with the servants, and proave a long respite, since the servants had the reversion of the beef, so the Mr Arden had taken leave, and gone to see a bedridden pauper, and the Major had tih her heart throbbed hard beneath her tightly-laced boddice, coene's catechisood book, slipped out to the honeysuckle arbour in the garden behind the house Harriet had Sherlock in Death, her regular Sunday study, though she never got any further than the apparition of Mrs Veal, over which she gloated in a dreamy state; Aurelia's study was a dark-covered, pale-lettered copy of the Ikon Basilike, with the strange attraction that youth has to pain and sorrow, and sat s of the perplexed and persecuted king, with her bright eyes fixed on the deep blue sky, and the honeysuckle blossoainst it, now and then visited by bee or butterfly, while through the silence caale, followed by its jubilant burst of glee, and the sweet distant chime of the cathedral bells rose and fell upon the wind What peace and repose there was in all the air, even in the gentle breeze, and the floatingpast