ent for,
and performing his routine duties reasonably well, but without
showing any great aptitude for his work. He had little interest,
and had almost given up expecting promotion, which he certainly
had done nothing particular to merit. But there was one point on
which he was always ready to go out of his way, and take a little
trouble. He was a good musician, and had formed choirs at all his
former curacies.

Soon after his arrival, therefore, he, in concert with Miss
Winter, had begun to train the children in church-music. A small
organ, which had stood in a passage in the Rectory for many
years, had been repaired, and appeared first at the schoolroom,
and at length under the gallery of the church; and it was
announced one week to the party in possession, that, on the next
Sunday, the constituted authorities would take the church-music
into their own hands. Then arose a strife, the end of which had
nearly been to send the gallery off, in a body, headed by the
offended bass-viol, to the small red-brick little Bethel at the
other end of the village. Fortunately the curate had too much
good sense to drive matters to extremities, and so alienate the
parish constable, and a large part of his flock, though he had
not tact or energy enough to bring them round to his own views.
So a compromise was come to; and the curate's choir were allowed
to chant the Psalms and Canticles, which had always been read
before, while the gallery remained triumphant masters of the
regular Psalms.

My readers will now understand why Miss Winter's salutation to
the musical constable was not so cordial as it was to the other
villagers whom they had come across previously.

Indeed, Miss Winter, though she acknowledged the constable's
salutation, did not seem inclined to encourage him to accompany
them, and talk his mind out, although he was going the same way
with them; and, instead of drawing him out, as was her wont in
such cases, went on talking herself to her cousin.

The little man walked out in the road, evidently in trouble of
mind. He did not like to drop behind or go ahead without some
further remark from Miss Winter, and yet could not screw up his
courage to the point of opening the conversation himself. So he
ambled on alongside the footpath on which they were walking,
showing his discomfort by a twist of his neck every few seconds,
and perpetual shiftings of his bass-viol, and hunching up of one
shoulder.

The conversation o