work for her to do, and giving her a good opportunity for good. He restored in some measure the glow of enthusiasm she had felt on first hearing the will, tempered, however, with a much greater appreciation of the difficulties before her. By his advice Jean determined to wait two full years before making a decided disposition of the funds, and in that time to consider the subject carefully and prayerfully, hoping to be guided to give help where it was most needed.

And now Jean became a "newspaper item," to her great dismay. Brief paragraphs, detailing the singular bequest to church uses, left to the caprice of a young girl, floated from one paper to another. The story was caught at by agents, by missionaries, by struggling ministers, and by sisterhoods and benevolent enthusiasts. Circulars began to pour in upon Jean, and begging letters, some almost commanding, and others pitifully entreating her to give to this or that deserving object. Such a world of distressing need, in forms she had never dreamed of, opened before her, and her ready sympathy flowed out to each new call, though they bewildered her terribly, for what were fifty thousand dollars among so many, and how was she ever to be wise enough to know where to give? It was a great relief that she had promised Dr. Rawley to wait two years. And this was the reply she sent to each appeal, that she could take no step in the matter for two years.

But though this might postpone the momentous decision, it could not prevent a weight of thought and care falling upon the girlish shoulders, and it seemed as if a great wall were rising between her and the light-hearted past. Just as though there were not work and anxiety enough at home, she could not help thinking sometimes, to keep her steady and discipline her.

"What are you thinking of now, child?" asked Mrs. Marlowe, as she came in oue afternoon and found Jean in a brown study by the window, with three or four letters in her lap.

them for the ministry. Now do you suppose it is my duty? It is a very eloquent letter, but how do I know that they are at all suitable, or called to the work?"

"Of course you don't know," said Mrs. Marlowe, decisively. "Give them the same answer as the rest, and don't trouble over it till the two years are up. Meanwhile, get your bat, for I am going to take you home with me to tea."

So Jean went away with her friend to spend one of those pleasant evenings at the rectory which always gave her "a fresh start," she said. Dr. Rawley's face always wore a kindly look for her, like an unfailing benediction. He was growing feeble now, and a young deacon had been called to assist him in some of his labors. And if this young deacon looked favorably upon Jean's bright face, and if he sometimes wondered, as far as he conscientiously could, whether, in case she married a clergyman, the legacy might properly be devoted to a parsonage and a theological library, Jean in her innocence never suspected it.

"I heard from Orrin Drew to-day," said Dr. Rawley, as he joined them in the parlor after tea.

"O, did you?" exclaimed Jean. "I wish he were here to sing with us this evening. How he used to like this anthem of 'The shield, the sword, and the battle.'" She was turning over some sheets of music as she spoke.

"Yes," continued the doctor, "Orrin is doing well, I think. He shows great resolution, and will soon be a master-mechanic. That great establishment at Lowbury for building engines, where he works, employs five hundred men."

"I have been there," said Mrs. Marlowe; "it is one of the queerest places you ever saw. The junior partner in that establishment is a connection of ours. He gets his finger very black drawing circles, though why he draws them and why he uses his finger, is more than I can tell. Come and try this new song with me, Jean; it has a very fine alto."

So they turned to music, and music ended the evening, and when the evening was over the young deacon walked home with Jean.

CHAPTER V.

TIME rolled on.

"Mamma," said Clementina Drew, as she sat one morning at her late breakfast, languidly toying with the grotesque little china cup that held her chocolate, "mamma, it is nearly two years since Aunt Drew died, and in all that time I have never had Jean Argyle here to visit me. I am going to invite her to pass the rest of the winter with us. I wonder how she looks now-adays; she used to be pretty."

"It is well enough to ask her to come," replied Mrs. Drew. "I don't suppose the poor child has much pleasure. I wonder if she has disposed of that provoking legacy yet?"

"No; I've heard about that," said Clementina. "Old Dr. Rawley advised her to wait as long as she could. I am glad he did, for I have a plan of my own about it." But what the plan was Clementina would not tell, though Mrs. Drew was mildly curious.

So the invitation went forth, and now Jean had her chance at last to visit in the great city.

"She shall go," said both Mr. and Mrs. Argyle. It is time she had a change."

66

The firm which employed Mr. Argyle had recently been so fortunate as to treble their business, and had not forgotten at the same time to enlarge their bookkeeper's salary, so that he could really afford to let his daughter have a little vacation. Thus the two girls were to be together again, to call each other Jean and Clem as of old, and to study in each other's faces the changes that two years had wrought.

"Well, I'm sure, Jean, you look as fresh as a daisy,” said Clementina, the morning after Jean's arrival, as they sat together in a dainty little boudoir, "modest, and crimson-tipped, and all that. I thought you would be completely fagged out by this time, staying at home tending babies and washing dishes."

"O, I don't mind those things as much as I used to," said Jean, with a bright smile, and I really enjoy being with the children. Then I have had my lessons and music, you know."

"Dear me, what a goodyish sound that has!" exclaimed Clem, in a tone of light mockery. "But there, dear, I wont make fun of you. Lessons and music! I took, perhaps, six lessons in French after I came

here, but when it came to verbs I stopped short off, they were so much trouble. Aunt Drew didn't care; it was before she died. She had translations of all the French novels, and said there was no use in reading them in the original. She used to lie on a divan every day after dinner and make me sprinkle her with rose-water, and then read her to sleep with a novel."

"Did she?" asked Jean, who was longing to know what Clem's life had been with city privileges. "Of course she wanted you part of the time, but I suppose you had your mornings to yourself ?"

"Not an hour!" said Clem, with energy. "She scarcely ever let me be out of her sight, and at night I slept in a little room off hers where she could call me. She was afraid to be alone. O, you have no conception! Sometimes I have taken down her hair and put it up again a dozen times in one day. What I say now is, that I went through enough penance and selfsacrifice that winter to do for a lifetime, so I owe no more to the world, and now I propose to have a good time. Still, I make no complaint; she was very good to me, and took me wherever she went. Before I had been here two months I had six elegant silk party-dresses, and then she gave me all her jewelry. We went to a great many parties; the old people played cards, and the young people danced. Sometimes I used to think of you right in the midst of a waltz, and of how slight a chance had saved me from plodding along in the old way with you, singing in the choir, and going to sewing-bees and sociables."

"I would not exchange my two years for yours, Clem," she said; and she said it sincerely.

66

Nor exchange legacies, either?" asked Clem, with a shrewd glance and a shrug of

her shoulders.

"No, nor legacies either," said Jean, with the thoughtful look which had become frequent with her settling down upon her face.

"Have you done anything with the fifty thousand dollars yet?"

"No. A great many suggestions have been made to me, but one by one I have dismissed most of them from my mind; a few remain to be decided upon at the last moment. If I do not feel satisfied with my own judgment, I shall place the funds in the hands of Dr. Rawley, which will be in

a manner giving them to the church to dispose of herself."

By

"O, but that wont do at all!" exclaimed Clem, with vivacity. "I have a much better plan than that, by which you may give the money for church purposes, and at the same time be benefited by it yourself. the way, Jean, I have invited a few friends of mine to drop in this evening, not at all in a formal way, you know, but so that you may begin to make acquaintances. Don't you think my parlors are lovely to receive guests in? Almost everything is as Aunt Drew left it; she had a great passion for frescoes and bronzes. But I have had the furniture upholstered over with light blue satin, which is much more cheerful than her wine-colors."

Parting the heavy damask curtains that shut off the little boudoir by itself, Clementina took Jean into the parlors to admire their beauties and curiosities at her leisure, while she herself went up stairs to make an elaborate neglige toilet, "for perhaps some one might call."

That evening the "few friends" dropped in as Clementina had announced. Their hostess met them, attired in a light silk of one of the most fashionable shades, "mignonette green," and wearing Aunt Drew's antique set of gold and emeralds. She looked very graceful, very stylish, and quite the "blonde belle," as some of her friends called her. Jean, who had but two silk dresses in the world, on being informed by Clementina that this evening would be as nothing compared to others that awaited her, thought it best to wear her black one, as many a heroine has done before her. Thus, in black, with a pearl pin, and not a crimp in her hair, she was quite a contrast to Clementina, who regarded her with some misgivings at first, not knowing whether she would seem to her guests like a simple little rustic, or whether she had that" inexpressible something" beyond all mere style, and superior to it.

us a solo from an oratorio! I sang in my best style an opera air or two, and some of those pretty love-ballads that the prima donnas keep for their encores. Then on being urged to take my place at the piano, she said very quietly that she knew none but sacred music, and upon that she gave us a wonderful solo from the 'Messiah,' and afterwards an anthem! That Mr. Siebert and Mrs. Marlowe have really done great things with her voice. Why, all my gentlemen friends went into a perfect enthusiasm about her! If she stays here the season through, I don't know but she will get an offer from every one of them, and it wasn't at all in my plan that she should get one. The Rev. Mr. Sterrett did look as if he thought her almost an angel, that's a fact!'"'

To Jean herself the evening had passed very enjoyably, the unwonted excitement and the delicate compliments she received exhilarated her. She did not feel the slightest awkwardness or consciousnesspeople with a definite object in life seldom do-and Aunt Drew's legacy had been a real benefit to Jean in giving her thoughts a broad channel and a most unselfish aim. She was interested in meeting a young clergyman among Clem's guests, who, though rather boyish-faced and of limited experience, seemed to be well educated and a zealous worker. Jean's mind at this time turned so much to church matters, that she was glad to talk with any one who could make her better acquainted with her subject. Just now she was specially intent on church architecture, and on making estimates as to how good a building could be erected for fifty thousand dollars, in case she should so decide to use the money, in behalf of some poor parish. Here the Rev. Mr. Sterrett could help her, and even in this very first evening they arrived at a friendly understanding, with a promise on his part to call the next day with a book of architectural designs for her to examine.

When Clementina heard of this she clapped her hands. Jean told her that same night as they were taking down their hair.

"Just what I wanted!" she exclaimed, gayly; "I knew you would like Arthur Sterrett, and I knew he would like you. It is all happening just right. Why, don't you see yourself with your two gray eyes

that he is the very man you ought to marry, and then you can keep Aunt Drew's legacy, after all!"

"What in the world do you mean, Clementina?" said Jean, confounded by this hurried march of thought.

"Well, I will tell you," said Clem, sitting down and becoming explanatory; “I have always felt worried about Aunt Drew treating you so in her will, and always wished you could have the money just as I had mine. Well, it occurred to me a long time ago that if you married a clergyman, it might be managed yet. So, when our Dr. Devine had to go South this winter for his health, and Arthur Sterrett came to supply his place, I thought at once, here is just the husband for Jean. So well suited, you know, I am sure you would be perfectly happy; only, instead of bringing you church-plans, he must bring you rectoryplans. For this is the rest of my idea: Dr. Devine will come back by the last of February, and Arthur will of course before that time have a call to some other place. Some lovely little town somewhere, I am sure it will be, with a pretty church already built. Then you can donate ten thousand dollars to the parish to build a handsome rectory, ten thousand to the Rev. Mr. Sterrett, to take him on a tour to Europe when he needs rest, put twenty thousand in the bank for a fund, the interest being used to increase the Rev. Mr. Sterrett's salary, and with the rest you can buy a splendid organ and a library for the church, and put in a great memorial window, and then settle down, and live in clover all the rest of your days! There, haven't I planned it well ?"

"O Clem! Clem!" cried Jean, laughing merrily; "what an imagination you have!" “But don't laugh! I'm in dead earnest! What do you think?"

But Jean persisted in regarding the whole matter as an excellent joke; indeed, she felt she could not treat it in any other light without an indignation which Clem would not understand.

"O very well!" said Clem, at last, with an offended air. "If you don't want to, you needn't."

"I had a great deal rather talk about your love affairs," said Jean, pleasantly. "Who is it to be, Clem-that Captain Trevor who was here this evening?"

"O, I don't know," replied Clem, eva

sively. "What is Charlie Thrale doing now-a-days?"

And in the midst of a talk about old times, the girls fell asleep.

CHAPTER VI.

AFTER Clem's suggestions, it was not easy for Jean to meet the young clergyman the next day without a slight feeling of consciousness, so she infused a little stiffness into her manner, which, however, he did not seem to notice, but sat a long time patiently explaining to her architectural designs and various technical terms. After a confidential discussion over cornices and gargoyles, there was hardly any use in resuming formality; so it ended, after all, in Jean and Arthur Sterrett becoming real friends.

Clem nodded her head at this, and augured well for her plans, in spite of Jean's unpromising reception of them. But Arthur was not by any means the only person to be considered; there was all Clementina's gay world of friends constantly coming and going, and not unfrequently one or another of them seemed inclined to lay siege to Jean's heart; but Clem, with the utmost care, piloted her safely past all these shoals, "for Arthur's sake," as she justified it to herself. Jean did not notice this; she was pleased with the parties she went to, and the attentions she received, but her mind was not intent upon them, for she was really becoming quite too auxious about the disposal of Aunt Drew's legacy, now that the time of decision was so close at hand, to think much of other things until that was over.

One evening they were expecting a large number of guests, and the girls were dressing together up stairs.

quietly at home, like you, and by this time, maybe, have married Charlie Thrale!"

"Go back with me, then, when I go, Clementina!" urged Jean, with earnestness, touched by this lifting of the veil.

"And be patronized by Mrs. Marlowe, and drilled by old Siebert again? No, thank you, it's too late. My voice is spoilt for the church choir, and that is but a sample. Everything else is to match. I never could fit into the old place again. Come, Jean, do hurry those rosebuds into your hair, and come down stairs. I expect to hear the bell every instant."

Later in the evening, when Jean had been implored again and again to sing, turning, as she always did to the pieces of sacred music, she took up the chant "Come unto me, all ye who labor," and sang that. In the momentary hush that fell over the gay throng, she raised her eyes and saw a gentleman standing near, who was regarding her intently, with pleasant familiar eyes, that set her wondering.

Almost the next instant Clem exclaimed: "Why, Orrin Drew! Where on earth did you come from?"

So it was Orrin! Jean heard him explaining that he had taken a little holiday from business, and having first revisited his old home, had now come to spend a few days with his mother and sister.

"You are as much of a stranger to me as to the rest," said Clem, as she introduced him to the company. "I did not know that I possessed a mustached and bearded brother like this! O, here is Jean Argyle! Did you know she was here? Of course, though, you did, if you have just come from the village."

"I knew it," said Orrin, joining Jean at

once.

"I don't think I should have known you anywhere, Orrin," said Jean, after the first pleased welcome.

"Because I didn't knock over a chair, or step on somebody's dress before I reached you?" he asked, with the same off-hand manner of old.

He was changed, certainly. The awkward, impulsive, ingenious boy had become the self-possessed, self-reliant and successful man. Already he occupied a responsible position in the great manufacturing firm at Lowbury. Some improvements and practical suggestions of his in the matter of machinery had brought him

into notice and rapid promotion. He grew enthusiastic in talking about his work and prospects to Jean, as they sat a little apart from the rest on one of Clem's tete-a-tetes, and that he was as kind-hearted as ever was proved by his remarks about the workmen employed in the different buildings.

"Nearly five hundred in all," he said, gravely. "Just think of that, Jean! There are sometimes two or three from one family, but even then, consider how many families must be represented!"

"Do they all live in Lowbury?" asked Jean.

"Only a few, those who have worked longest. Our buildings are not in the town, but out north of it a little, and of late years, since the firm have employed so many men coming from a distance, they bave put up a number of houses for them, so that really now we are a suburb of Lowbury, almost a little town of ourselves. Men, women and children. I am frightened sometimes when I think of the re

sponsibility."

"No, thank you, Mr. Murray, I will not dance this evening," said Jean to a gentleman who came up at this moment and interrupted them.

“Orrin, I think we shall be in the way when the sets form; suppose we retreat to a corner of Clem's boudoir. I am really anxious to hear more about your workmen."

So, in the quietest corner that could be found, Orrin enlarged upon his theme to an attentive listener. And thus Jean found out all about the evening school, which one of the firm had started, and in which Orrin taught; also about the special efforts which the northern school district of Lowbury had been induced to make, to draw in the children of the workmen, with quite promising success. And lastly, she heard with much interest an account of the Sunday school, Orrin's own pet scheme, for which he had labored almost singlehanded, until now it was fairly established, with a good attendance of men and women, as well as of children. She had not known that Orrin cared so much for such things. But here also Dr. Rawley's teachings had been seed sown in good ground, and Orrin's life was becoming daily more and more enriched with pure purposes and noble aims.

"I suppose you hold the Sunday school