orderly enough;
but are they intelligent? Well, I shall look in and examine them on
their special subjects, if they have any. I suppose not.'

'Only class. Grammar and needlework.'

'I see, the old routine. Quite the village school.'

'It is very nice work,' put in Mrs. Arthuret, who had been looking
at it.

'Oh yes, it always is when everything is sacrificed to it. Good-
morning, I shall see more of you, Mrs.--ahem.'

'Please, ma'am, should I tell her that she is not a school manager?'
inquired the mistress, somewhat indignantly, when the two ladies had
departed.

'You had better ask the Vicar what to do,' responded Susan.

The schoolmaster, on his side, seemed to have had so much advice and
offers of assistance in lessons on history, geography, and physical
science, that he had been obliged to refer her to the managers, and
explain that till the next inspection he was bound to abide by the
time-table.

'Ah, well, I will be one of the managers another year.'

So she told the Vicar, who smiled, and said, 'We must elect you.'

'I am sure much ought to be done. It is mere waste to have two
separate schools, when a master can bring the children on so much
better in the higher subjects.'

'Mrs. Merrifield and the rest of us are inclined to think that what
stands highest of all with us is endangered by mixed schools,' said
Mr. Doyle.

'Oh!' Arthurine opened her eyes; 'but education does all _THAT_!'

'Education does, but knowledge is not wisdom. Susan Merrifield's
influence has done more for our young women than the best class
teaching could do.'

'Oh, but the Merrifields are all so BORNES and homely; they stand in
the way of all culture.'

'Indeed,' said the Vicar, who had in his pocket a very favourable
review of MESA's new historical essay.

'Surely an old-fashioned squire and Lady Bountiful and their very
narrow daughters should not be allowed to prevent improvement,
pauperise the place, and keep it in its old grooves.'

'Well, we shall see what you think by the time you have lived here
long enough to be eligible for--what?'

'School manager, guardian of the poor!' cried Arthurine.

'We shall see,' repeated the Vicar. 'Good-morning.'

He asked Bessie's leave to disclose who MESA was.

'Oh, don't!' she cried, 'it would spoil the fun! Besides, mamma
would not like it, which is a better reason.'

There were plenty of books, old and new, in Bessie's room, magazines
and reviews, but the