s a great
compliment to me to hear it from your own lips; not that it's
unexpected. Miss Violetta's a sweet saint, just like her ma, she is, an'
her ma's a saint if there ever was one. Mr. Higgs, the verger, says that
to see her pray that length of time on her knees after the service is
over in church is a touching sight.'

'But I don't think Miss Violetta is like her mother,' said the curate.

'Well no, sir; now that you mention it, perhaps she's not--at least, not
in looks. But lor' sir, she's wonderful like her ma when it comes to
paying a bill, not but what they're to be respected for keeping a heye
on the purse. I often tell Yeander that if we were a bit more saving,
like the vicar's lady, we'd lay by a bit for our old age.'

'Yes, Mrs. Yeander, yes; that would be an excellent plan,' said the
curate, fumbling with his latch-key in the door. 'Suppose you come in
and make my tea for me, Mrs. Yeander. I'm all alone to-night.'

'I bethought I might do that, sir, when I came along. Yeander was in the
shop, and I said, Mrs. Jones having gone to see her son, that you'd 'ave
no one, so I just says to Yeander, "I'll step round, an' if I'm asked
I'll make tea."'

The curate lit his lamp and poked his fire, and the portly woman began
to toast his muffins. The flame lit up the placid wrinkles of her face
as she knelt before it:

'But I don't think Miss Violetta is in the least like her mother,' said
he again.

'Lor' sir, don't you? Well, you ought to know best. They do say what's
bred in the bone comes out in the flesh; but it'll be none the worse for
you if she looks sharp after the spending. You're not much given to
saving.'

The curate walked nervously up and down his small room.

'Make the tea strong to-night,' he said.

'Mr. Higgs, the verger, do hate the vicar's lady, sir--he do, and no
mistake--but he says anybody could see with 'alf a heye that she was a
real saint. The subscriptions she puts down to missions and church
restorings--it's quite wonderful.'

The curate ran his hand wearily through his hair. He felt called upon to
say something. 'I have the highest respect for Mrs. Moore,' he began. 'I
know her to be a most devoted helpmeet to the vicar, and a truly good
woman. At the same time'--he coughed--'at the same time, I should wish
to say distinctly that after being niggardly in her domestic affairs,
which is unfortunately the case, I do not think it adds to her stock of
Christian virtues to give the