Vernon, she is such a nice girl; and Katie, my special crony, is a year younger than Charlie. Bertha comes next, and then there is Peter. He is at the grammar school, but he is so clever that they all say that he will get a scholarship and go to Oxford too.'

'I know the Allens' house,' returned Sheila, in a tone of sympathetic interest. 'I used to pass it on my way to the Goulburn's. Sometimes I would meet your friend Katie-what a pretty girl she is!—and one or other of her brothers. They are all good-looking young fellows,' went on Sheila, 'but there was one I specially noticed. He is not tall, but he has a strong, athletic figure, and his face is tanned almost like a sailor's, and he has merry blue eyes and a nice laugh, and I remember I took quite a fancy to him, and called him "my sailor boy" when I mentioned him to Ned.'

'That must have been Charlie,' returned Betty rather quietly, but something in her tone made Sheila look at her. The next moment she smiled and changed the subject.

CHAPTER XII

THE VICAR OF ST. JUDE'S

The world has nothing to bestow,

From our own selves our bliss must flow.

COTTON.

Cheerful people live long in our memory.-MArden.

A FEW minutes later an interruption occurred which put a stop to the conversation; the green gate was unlatched and flung open, and Mr. Lassiter's tall figure appeared in sight, followed by a gentleman in clerical attire. Sheila recognised at once the stern, asceticlooking face of the vicar of St. Jude's, and, as before, she was struck with his commanding and aristocratic bearing. 'There is something almost majestic in his carriage,' she said afterwards; and though he is so quiet in voice and manner, he gives one the impression of a strong and intense nature kept in check.'

'Mr. Brett wishes to make your acquaintance, Sheila,' observed her brother. 'He was a constant visitor at The Moorings during Aunt Sarah's lifetime.'

'Mrs. Hartree was a great friend of mine,' returned the vicar, shaking hands cordially with Sheila. His smile was exceedingly pleasant and lighted up his face, making it look younger.

'I introduced myself to Mr. Lassiter on the links,

when I came upon him with Mr. Woodford and his daughter. Ah, Miss Betty, I did not see you for the moment. Where is your volatile friend?'

'I am doing a day's charing, Mr. Brett,' returned Betty with dignity, 'so I left her with Jane. Kaiser is so big that I was afraid he might eat up my darling Miss Mowcher.'

'You need not be afraid of that, Miss Bettina,' interposed Ned. 'Kaiser is always chivalrous to ladies, and he never fights with any dog that is not of his own size; and to do him justice, he is never the aggressor.'

'He is a magnificent fellow,' observed Mr. Brett, as he took the seat assigned to him. Ruth was just bringing out the tea-things. As he leant back in his hammock chair, Sheila saw at once that he was much fatigued, and there was an air of lassitude about him that contrasted strangely with his fine physique. 'I have a great fancy for collies,' he went on, and would willingly be the owner of one; but, owing to circumstances, I have a four-legged companion who would die of jealousy if I introduced another dog. He is a small dachshund who followed me home one winter's evening and who was never claimed, though I advertised more than once in the local paper. He had a handsome collar with "Peter" on it, and was evidently a wellbred animal.'

'And you kept him?' Then again a smile came to Mr. Brett's dark face.

'How was one to refuse hospitality to a homeless stranger on such a night, Miss Lassiter? The poor little animal was in sorry plight between cold and hunger and fright. I heard something pattering behind me in the darkness, and as I stopped a little dachshund fawned on me and whined. We had him dried and fed, and after

that he refused to leave me. His devotion is almost embarrassing at times. My aunt and the servants tell me that when I go out without him-which I have to do continually, as his short legs cannot keep up with mine-he just lies in my study and moans, unless they give him a glove or slipper that belongs to me, and then he is pacified. But when I come back he rejoices over me as though I had been absent for months.'

'Peter is a dear dog,' observed Betty; 'I don't think I ever saw any creature so devoted to his master. I think, if anything happened to you, Mr. Brett, he would die of grief.'

'I am afraid you are right,' returned the vicar. 'There is something mysterious in the affection of our canine friends. They are not only the patient slaves of our whims, but they depend upon us for happiness. They respond to our moods, and our depression reacts on them. Peter knows at once when anything is troubling me, and tries to sympathise in his dumb way.'

'Kaiser is just the same,' observed Sheila. And then, as they all grouped round the little tea-table, first one and then another recalled amusing or pathetic anecdotes of their special pets; and Mr. Brett, who seemed a dog-lover, related stories of sagacity and heroism that he had heard or read. Presently the conversation veered round to the late owner of the house.

'This is a very pleasant retreat on a summer's afternoon,' observed Mr. Brett. 'Do you know, Miss Lassiter, that though I was at The Moorings three or four times a week, I have never sat in the garden before? Like many other old ladies of the past generation, Mrs. Hartree seemed afraid of air.'

'They did not understand hygiene in those days,' remarked Ned.

'I am so glad our poor old aunt had such kind friends and neighbours,' observed Sheila, with one of her beaming looks.

'As far as friends were concerned, Mrs. Hartree was not lonely,' returned Mr. Brett; 'the Woodfords and my aunt were constant visitors, and during the last two or three years of her life I saw her almost daily. But until a twelvemonth ago we had no idea that she had relatives living.'

'There was a misunderstanding with my father,' explained Ned. 'I do not deny that he was greatly in fault, but my aunt never forgave him, and refused to have anything to do with us. You may judge my amazement and incredulity when I heard from Messrs. Roffey and Williams that she had left me everything.'

'No, not everything,' corrected the vicar; 'there was a favourite charity or two largely endowed'; but Mr. Brett said nothing more.

Ned and Sheila little guessed that they owed their unexpected windfall to the tact and persuasive eloquence of the vicar. A twelvemonth before, when Mrs. Hartree was consulting him about some institution for the blind which she intended to include in her list of legacies, Luke Brett gathered from a remark which she made casually, that she had actually relatives living. His surprise was great, but he answered her firmly and quietly.

'The institution you have named is an excellent one, but if you have great-nephews and a niece surviving, your money should go to them, especially as you hint that they are not in good circumstances.'