had from her childhood
repeated the catechism words which proclaim that, "My duty to my
neighbour is to love him as myself . . . To keep my tongue from
evil-speaking, lying, and slandering." What is more, she took great
pains to teach these words to a big class of Sunday School children, and
went, rain or shine, to spend two hours each Sunday in a stuffy school-
room for that purpose. It was strange that she should be so ready to
believe evil of her neighbour, and so eager to spread the story. But my
progenitor is clever, and doubtless knows very well, whom to select as
his tools.

By this time they had reached a comfortable-looking, red-brick house with
white stone facings, and in the discussion of the arrangements for the
choir treat I was entirely forgotten.

MY THIRD STAGE

Alas! such is our weakness, that we often more readily believe and
speak of another that which is evil than that which is good. But
perfect men do not easily give credit to every report; because they
know man's weakness, which is very prone to evil, and very subject to
fail in words.

THOMAS A KEMPIS.

All through that evening, and through the first part of the succeeding
day, I was crowded out of the curate's mind by a host of thoughts with
which I had nothing in common; and though I hovered about him as he
taught in the school, and visited several sick people, and argued with an
habitual drunkard, and worked at his Sunday sermon, a Power, which I felt
but did not understand, baffled all my attempts to gain an entrance and
attract his notice. I made a desperate attack on him after lunch as he
sat smoking and enjoying a well-earned rest, but it was of no avail. I
followed him to a large garden-party later on, but to my great annoyance
he went about talking to every one in the pleasantest way imaginable,
though I perceived that he was longing to play tennis instead.

At length, however, my opportunity came. Mr. Blackthorne was talking to
the lady of the house, Mrs. Courtenay, when she suddenly exclaimed:--

"Ah, here is Mr. Zaluski just arriving. I began to be afraid that he had
forgotten the day, and he is always such an acquisition. How do you do,
Mr. Zaluski?" she said, greeting my victim warmly as he stepped on to the
terrace. "So glad you were able to come. You know Mr. Blackthorne, I
think."

Zaluski greeted the curate pleasantly, and his dark eyes lighted up with
a gleam of amusement.

"Oh, w