air--from her carriage wheels. And the hope became stronger still,
when, the first Sunday I attended yon village church, I again saw that
fair--wondrously fair--face at the far end,--fair as moonlight and as
melancholy. Strange it is, sir, that I--naturally a boisterous, mirthful
man, and now a shy, skulking fugitive--feel more attracted, more allured
towards a countenance, in proportion as I read there the trace of
sadness. I feel less abased by my own nothingness, more emboldened to
approach and say, 'Not so far apart from me: thou too hast suffered.'
Why is this?"

GEORGE MORLEY.--"'The fool hath said in his heart that there is no God;'
but the fool hath not said in his heart that there is no sorrow,--pithy
and most profound sentence; intimating the irrefragable claim that binds
men to the Father. And when the chain tightens, the children are closer
drawn together. But to your wish: I will remember it. And when my cousin
returns, she shall see your Sophy."

CHAPTER V.

Mr. Waife, being by nature unlucky, considers that, in proportion as
fortune brings him good luck, nature converts it into bad. He
suffers Mr. George Morley to go away in his debt, and Sophy fears
that he will be dull in consequence.

George Morley, a few weeks after the conversation last recorded, took
his departure from Montfort Court, prepared, without a scruple, to
present himself for ordination to the friendly bishop. From Waife he
derived more than the cure of a disabling infirmity; he received those
hints which, to a man who has the natural temperament of an orator, so
rarely united with that of the scholar, expedite the mastery of the art
that makes the fleeting human voice an abiding, imperishable power. The
grateful teacher exhausted all his lore upon the pupil whose genius he
had freed, whose heart had subdued himself. Before leaving, George was
much perplexed how to offer to Waife any other remuneration than that
which, in Waife's estimate, had already overpaid all the benefits he had
received; namely, unquestioning friendship and pledged protection.
It need scarcely be said that George thought the man to whom he owed
fortune and happiness was entitled to something beyond that moral
recompense. But he found, at the first delicate hint, that Waife would
not hear of money, though the ex-Comedian did not affect any very
Quixotic notion on that practical subject. "To tell you the truth, sir,
I have rather a superstition ag