ts, and this he seemed to value more than the approval of his
fellow-proprietors. In theory, he stuck out for his privileges; in
practice, he was the friend and brother of the poorest on the estate. In
his mode of farming he was as eccentric as in his method of management.
He had taken Croachmore into his own hands, and this devoted farm had
become the subject of a series of drastic scientific experiments, to the
great grief and indignation of his bailiff.

Mrs. Fullerton believed implicitly in the value of these experiments,
and so long as her husband tried science only on the farm she had no
misgivings; but, alas, he had lately taken shares in some company, that
was to revolutionize agriculture through an ingenious contrivance for
collecting nitrogen from the atmosphere. Mr. Fullerton was confident
that the new method was to be a gigantic success. But on this point,
his wife uneasily shook her head. She had even tried to persuade Mr.
Fullerton to rid himself of his liability. It was so great, she argued,
and why should one be made anxious? But her husband assured her that she
didn't understand anything about it; women ought not to meddle in
business matters; it was a stupendous discovery, sure to make the
fortunes of the original shareholders.

"When once the prejudice against a new thing has been got over," said
the man of science, "you will see----the thing will go like wild-fire."

Many years afterwards, these words were remembered by Mrs. Fullerton,
and she bitterly regretted that she had not urged the matter more
strenuously.

"Well, Algitha," said her father, wondering at her silence, "how are the
roses getting on? And I hope you have not forgotten the sweet-brier that
you promised to grow for me."

"Oh, no, father, the sweet-brier has been ordered," returned Algitha,
without her usual brightness of manner.

"Have you a headache?" enquired Mrs. Fullerton. "I hope you have not all
been sitting up talking in Hadria's room, as you are too fond of doing.
You have the whole day in which to express your ideas, and I think you
might let the remainder wait over till morning."

"We _were_ rather late last night," Algitha confessed.

"Pressure of ideas overpowering," added Fred.

"When _I_ was young, ideas would never have been tolerated in young
people for a moment," said Mrs. Fullerton, "it would have been considered
a mark of ill-breeding. You may think yourselves lucky to be born at this
end of the century,