saw a range of parish account-books on the chimney-piece, marked "Penny Bank," "Mothers' Meetings," &c., &c., all of which had been placed ready for the Rector to enter in his big parochial book that night while his wife and children were to have been at the ball.

All slept more or less soundly, but about 6 o'clock sounds could be heard in the house. Agnes's cough, as she had feared, came on, and Beatrice, who heard her, insisted on getting up to renovate the fire, which was not out, and to try the very simple remedy of steaming her throat with hot water which she boiled. No one seemed ever to have thought of it before, and much delighted was Beatrice to see the relief it gave. Once up she resolved to dress, and had almost finished her operations when Sibyl knocked at the door and asked if she might come in.

"We want the tea-fountains which are in your cupboard, Agnes," and opening the door revealed all the paraphernalia used for school feasts, not only the great tin structures, but a perfect shop of dolls, cheap toys, and banners. "Agnes looks after all these things," she said, "and makes numbers of them, I keep all the Sunday-school books and the lending library, and Kate has all the materials for the mothers' meetings, so our mother has only the parish medicines to look after."

Before they could plunge into parish talk Kate came to hurry Sibyl, and then they explained their father's plans, and that they and the boys were just going to begin preparations for the soldiers' breakfast.

"Oh, do let me help," said Beatrice, and down she went to give active assistance in cutting bread and butter, which the boys packed in baskets and carried off to the school.

It was very near, and she made no objection when she saw her father come out well muffled, to his going with her. An enormous fire blazed in the large room, still pretty with its Christmas decorations, to which Rupert had added a big "Welcome" in gold letters on a red ground, and Douglas the two best flags from Agnes' cupboard—the royal arms and the Union Jack. The tables had been put together round the fire and the breakfast spread. Soon the door opened and in trooped the artillerymen, saluting as they entered. Mr. Trevor was at the mistress's desk and first said he was sure all present would like to join in thanking their heavenly FATHER for their preservation from the dangers of the past night, and in asking for His protection for that day for themselves and also for all who might be in peril or in

Then they set to

anxiety. He read the 103rd Psalm, the LORD's Prayer, in which all joined heartily, and then two or three Collects, ending with the General Thanksgiving and Prayer for all Conditions of Men. Kate heard one of the young recruits say "it felt like home again." work at tea, coffee, and piles of bread and butter, and the rectory party went back to their own meal. The snow fell just as on the day before, but more quietly, the violent wind having gone down in the night.

Incessantly had Mrs. De Hoggyns' bell rung for baths, hot water, fire, tea; and thankful were the maids when her own Abigail found her way over from the school and relieved them from ministering to her wants. The poor woman had delayed to join in the little service, thereby exciting her mistress's wrath. "Thanksgiving indeed!" she had never been so uncomfortable in her life.

At breakfast it appeared, from the various reports brought in by the different members of the family, that one hundred men had left Smokington during the night, and were cutting their way to Beechwood, while Gresford, according to orders received from head quarters, had hired every man in the village who could use a spade at five shillings for his day's work, and was attacking the enemy on their side. And an enemy it was, that great drift that was hourly quietly deepening. It was scarcely possible that any train could get away that day, and while Mrs. De Hoggyns bemoaned that they should not get to Smokington to hear Mr. De Hoggyns speak at a great meeting for the abolition of everything, poor Mrs. Trevor wondered how all were to be fed, knowing that the butcher could not get to her from the little village town of Stoneley, three miles off, where he lived, nor she send to him. But suddenly a merry rattle of bells was heard, and the boys rushed out to receive Mr. Shirley, who muffled in rugs and skins had just driven his sledge up to the front door.

"Take care," said he, as they began disentangling his wraps, "I am full of breakables and eatables. Well, Trevor," as the Rector appeared, "I hear you have a whole trainful of people and a regiment of soldiers, and as you did not come to us last night I have brought your supper to you."

And sure enough the bottom of the sledge had hampers with cold meat, turkeys, fowls, ham, ale and wine, packed into it, sufficient to relieve Mrs. Trevor's mind entirely of her commissariat troubles. Better than all, the Squire announced that the sledge must go on to

Smokington to take letters for him on the chance of their getting posted, and could he do anything for them?

"Take away Mrs. De Hoggyns," said the boys, "she wants to go to Smokington to-night to hear her 'usband speak."

"For shame," said their father, "remember while a guest is under your roof she is sacred."

66

Well, Trevor," said the Squire, "I won't say a word about Mrs. De Hoggyns, but I'll help you to get her from under your roof; my man shall drive her to Smokington with Belinda and Arabella if they are here, if Mrs. Trevor will let me stay and lunch, and when they are gone I'll tell you who they are if like." you

Mrs. De Hoggyns was delighted to be off, and as there was no packing, she and her party were soon in the sledge, having given but a small amount of thanks to her hosts and leaving no remuneration for the schoolmistress who had housed her maid, or for the overworked servants at the rectory. Perhaps all this was to follow.

When she was gone, Mr. Shirley walked with Mr. Trevor to the school, where it was settled the soldiers were to pass the day, leaving the station free for the men who were working on the line. As for the children, scarcely any of them had attempted to come to school and a holiday was proclaimed. Of course there was but one topic, the wonderful storm that would soon have lasted twenty-four hours and gave no signs of ending. London must be isolated, for no trains would have brought the country supplies that morning, no post could leave or enter it, and the country must be paralysed. They found the sergeant in a perplexity, he said he did not like at such a time that seven strong men should be doing nothing, but he could not feel justified in putting Her Majesty's soldiers under the orders of the Great Midland Railway Company without his commanding officer's knowledge. Could Mr. Trevor make the lads useful, and keep them out of mischief? So it was settled they should go through the little village, and clear the cottage doors and the church steps, and spades being soon borrowed they went merrily to work. Then Douglas was to his great delight told to take the sergeant up to his mother, and the story she was yearning to hear was told her at last.

The girls were all together in the drawing-room, Beatrice quite one of them, while her father wrote letters in the study. Mr. Shirley and the Rector had gone on to the station to cheer up Gresford, who said he saw no prospect of getting the train to move till that afternoon,

the night's snow had covered it and the cutting was full. But hundreds were now being sent out from Smokington, and beyond that town the line was clear, the force of the storm not having reached so far. Mr. Shirley said he had ordered the sledge to bring back more supplies for the use of the village, especially those at work, and that the company should hear from him and Mr. Trevor how admirably Gresford had acted. Poor man, he and the porter had been up all night watching the train, which of course still held the passengers' luggage, and seeing to the comforts of the soldiers.

On their way home Mr. Shirley could not be stopped from telling Mrs. De Hoggyns' history. Her husband's father, plain Hoggins, of course, had been a butcher, and this man had succeeded him in his trade, but had soon given it up for various money speculations, not of the most creditable kind. She was the daughter of a man who had made a fortune by selling preserved meat to the Navy, and had absconded when a discovery had been made of the frauds that he was carrying on. Hoggins had insisted on his wife's money being paid down on their marriage, and between them they were rich. Where they originally came from, Mr. Shirley did not know, but they had bought a large place between Blackton and Allington lately, and Hoggins was getting into his possession all the small houses he could and the unoccupied ground, and running up miserable pasteboard tenements and public-houses, meaning to promote all the Radical interests of the place. Having had no education himself, he professed a vehement admiration for the new Code in its most rigid application. He had withdrawn the subscription his predecessor had given to the schools, and then finding that their accommodation was insufficient, refused all help towards enlarging them, and was doing his utmost to starve them out and get a Board School substituted.

They say Lord Belmont will be too many for him," said Mr. Shirley; "luckily he has property there, though no home, but the place is in a turmoil and will be till Hoggins is bankrupt, which it is devoutly to be hoped he soon will be."

He had seen Mrs. De Hoggyns and her daughters at a county public ball, into which they had contrived to penetrate, and had felt at once what a service it would be to relieve his friends of them.

'And whom else have you ?" asked he.

Mr. Trevor mentioned the poor woman and her sick child, and the schoolboys, and Miss Beatrice, and her father.

"Mrs. De Hog

"I don't quite make them out," said Mr. Trevor. gyns dinned into our ears that they had come third class, but they are both so refined and well educated that I should think there must be some mistake. The girls will have it there is a mystery, all I know is that I have not asked their name, nor they volunteered to tell it, and they are such pleasant guests that I am almost tempted to hope the snow will go on and keep them here."

In the course of the afternoon the schoolboys were made happy by a telegram arriving from the Head Master saying that Farnborough would not meet for a week, and another came from their father with as much of warm thanks as the wires could convey. Mr. Trevor answered by saying he would with pleasure keep the boys till their school was ready for them. Gresford sent word at the same time that he thought at five the train might start.

The sergeant was anxious to get on with his men to Plymouth, and to the grief of the whole Rectory, Beatrice's father said they must try to go towards Exeter, where some of his party were, he said, waiting for him. Should the cold be very great, or the line at all blocked, he said he should sleep at Bath. Their home, it appeared, was in Devonshire, not far from Silvershore, they said, and Beatrice who with the Trevors had seen a good deal of the poor sick child, Salome Bloxham, persuaded the child's mother, with her father's leave, to intrust her to them for the rest of the journey. She would thus be able to get back to her work the moment the line to Blackton was open, and be saved time and the expense of her own journey. Beatrice refused the money poor Mrs. Bloxham proffered for her child's fare, and said, after their own preservation it was a happiness to be able to help some one else, and she promised to write on their safe arrival, and often to go and see her at the Home.

She and Agnes had made quite a friendship, and the latter privately asked her if she thought any arrangement could be made for her in the Home at Silvershore as a paying patient.

"I know," she said, "that my father and mother worry about me, and yet if I went to a lodging some one must go with me, and the expense is more than they ought to undertake.”

Beatrice coloured as she answered that she could inquire, as she was often there, but that she thought she knew of a still better place, and would write about it when she got home. They took an affectionate farewell of each other, while Beatrice's father renewed his thanks to