l stay to
dinner, of course." (She rang the bell without waiting for a reply.)
"Mr. North dines here; place a chair for him. And have you brought me
the book? I have been looking for it."

"Here it is," said North, producing a volume of 'Monte Cristo'. She
seized the book with avidity, and, after running her eyes over the
pages, turned inquiringly to the fly-leaf.

"It belongs to my predecessor," said North, as though in answer to her
thought. "He seems to have been a great reader of French. I have found
many French novels of his."

"I thought clergymen never read French novels," said Sylvia, with a
smile.

"There are French novels and French novels," said North. "Stupid people
confound the good with the bad. I remember a worthy friend of mine in
Sydney who soundly abused me for reading 'Rabelais', and when I asked
him if he had read it, he said that he would sooner cut his hand off
than open it. Admirable judge of its merits!"

"But is this really good? Papa told me it was rubbish."

"It is a romance, but, in my opinion, a very fine one. The notion of
the sailor being taught in prison by the priest, and sent back into the
world an accomplished gentleman, to work out his vengeance, is superb."

"No, now--you are telling me," laughed she; and then, with feminine
perversity, "Go on, what is the story?"

"Only that of an unjustly imprisoned man, who, escaping by a marvel,
and becoming rich--as Dr. Johnson says, 'beyond the dreams of
avarice'--devotes his life and fortune to revenge himself."

"And does he?"

"He does, upon all his enemies save one."

"And he--?" "She--was the wife of his greatest enemy, and Dantes spared
her because he loved her."

Sylvia turned away her head. "It seems interesting enough," said she,
coldly.

There was an awkward silence for a moment, which each seemed afraid to
break. North bit his lips, as though regretting what he had said. Mrs.
Frere beat her foot on the floor, and at length, raising her eyes, and
meeting those of the clergyman fixed upon her face, rose hurriedly, and
went to meet her returning husband.

"Come to dinner, of course!" said Frere, who, though he disliked the
clergyman, yet was glad of anybody who would help him to pass a cheerful
evening.

"I came to bring Mrs. Frere a book."

"Ah! She reads too many books; she's always reading books. It is not a
good thing to be always poring over print, is it, North? You have some
influence with her; tell her so. C