ight, it would
seem that all the advantage is on my side. The fact is, that the
incessant strain of work here has at last broken down my health to
such a degree, that the doctors tell me plainly I must choose
between the comparative rest of a country parish, or the certainty
of passing to a completer quiet before my time. Also, now that my
children are growing up, I am very anxious to remove them from the
sights and sounds and tainted moral atmosphere of this poverty-
stricken and degraded quarter.

"But, however that may be, I should not be doing my duty to you, if
I did not warn you that this is no parish for a man of your age to
undertake, unless for strong reasons (for I see by the Clergy List
that you are a year or so older than myself). The work is
positively ceaseless, and often of a most shocking and thankless
character; and there are almost no respectable inhabitants; for
nobody lives in the parish, except those who are too poor to live
elsewhere. The stipend, too, is, as you are aware, not large.
However, if, in face of these disadvantages, you still entertain
the idea of an exchange, perhaps we had better meet. . . ."

The letter then entered into details.

"I think that will suit me very well," said Mr. Fraser, aloud to
himself, as he put it down. "It will not greatly matter if my health
does break down; and I ought to have gone long ago. 'Positively
ceaseless,' he says the work is. Well, ceaseless work is the only
thing that can stifle thought. And yet it will be hard, coming up by
the roots after all these years. Ah me! this is a queer world, and a
sad one for some of us! I will write to the bishop at once."

From which it will be gathered that things had not been going well
with Mr. Fraser.

Meanwhile, Angela put her statement and the accompanying letter into a
large envelope. Then she took the queer emerald ring off her finger,
and, as there was nobody looking, she kissed it, and wrapped it up in
a piece of cotton-wool, and stowed it away in the letter, and sealed
it up. Next she addressed it, in her clear miniature handwriting, to

"Arthur P. Heigham, Esq.,
"Care of Mrs. Carr,
"Madeira,"

as Lady Bellamy had told her; and, calling to Pigott to come with her,
started off to the post-office to register and post her precious
packet, for the Madeira mail left Southampto