for a moment, and listen in silence, while she complacently sipped her gin and water. Mr Lawrence sat with his elbow on the table, carelessly playing with his half-empty wine-glass, and covertly smiling to himself.

`But don't you think, Mr Millward,' suggested he, when at length that gentleman paused in his discourse, `that when a child may be naturally prone to intemperance--by the fault of its parents or ancestors, for instance--some precautions are advisable?' (Now it was generally believed that Mr Lawrence's father had shortened his days by intemperance.)

`Some precautions, it may be; but temperance, sir, is one thing, and abstinence another.'

`But I have heard that, with some persons, temperance--that is moderation--is almost impossible; and if abstinence be an evil (which some have doubted), no one will deny that excess is a greater. Some parents have entirely prohibited their children from tasting intoxicating liquors; but a parent's authority cannot list for ever: children are naturally prone to hanker after forbidden things; and a child, in such a case, would be likely to have a strong curiosity to taste, and try the effect of what has been so lauded and enjoyed by others, so strictly forbidden to himself--which curiosity would generally be gratified on the first convenient opportunity; and the restraint once broken, serious consequences might ensue. I don't pretend to be a judge of such matters, but it seems to me, that this plan of Mrs Graham's, as you describe it, Mrs Markham, extraordinary as it may be, is not without its advantages; for here you see, the child is delivered at once from temptation; he has no secret curiosity, no hankering desire; he is as well acquainted with the tempting liquors as he ever wishes to be; and is thoroughly disgusted with them without having suffered from their effects.'

`And is that right, sir?' Have I not proven to you how wrong it is--how contrary to Scripture and to reason to teach a child to look with contempt and disgust upon the blessings of providence, instead of to use them aright?'

`You may consider laudanum a blessing of providence, sir,' replied Mr Lawrence, smiling; `and yet, you will allow that most of us had better abstain from it, even in moderation; but,' added he, `I would not desire you to follow out my simile too closely--in witness whereof I finish my glass.'

`And take another I hope, Mr Lawrence,' said my mother, pushing the bottle towards him.

He politely declined, and pushing his chair a little way from the table, leant back towards me--I was seated a trifle behind, on the sofa beside Eliza Millward--and carelessly asked me if I knew Mrs Graham.

`I have met her once or twice,' I replied. `What do you think of her?'

`I cannot say that I like her much. She is handsome--or rather I should say distinguished and interesting-- in her appearance, but by no means amiable--a woman liable to take strong prejudices, I should fancy, and stick to them through thick and thin, twisting everything into conformity with her own preconceived opinions--too hard, too sharp, too bitter for my taste.'

He made no reply, but looked down and bit his lip, and shortly after rose and sauntered up to Miss Wilson, as much repelled by me, I fancy, as attracted by her. I scarcely noticed it at the time, but afterwards, I was led to recall this and other trifling facts, of a similar nature, to my remembrance, when--but I must not anticipate.

We wound up the evening with dancing--our worthy pastor thinking it no scandal to be present on the occasion, though one of the village musicians was engaged to direct our evolutions' with his violin. But Mary Millward obstinately refused to join us; and so did Richard Wilson, though my mother earnestly entreated him to do so, and even offered to be his partner.