n,
the embellishment of the squarest and vastest of black coats, and the
support of the stoutest of gold-headed canes. As the doctor walked, he
now and then slightly flourished his cane, and inclined his shovel-hat
with a dogmatical wag towards his aide-de-camp. That
aide-de-camp--Donne, to wit--narrow as the line of his shape was,
compared to the broad bulk of his principal, contrived, notwithstanding,
to look every inch a curate. All about him was pragmatical and
self-complacent, from his turned-up nose and elevated chin to his
clerical black gaiters, his somewhat short, strapless trousers, and his
square-toed shoes.

Walk on, Mr. Donne! You have undergone scrutiny. You think you look
well. Whether the white and purple figures watching you from yonder hill
think so is another question.

These figures come running down when the regiment has marched by. The
churchyard is full of children and teachers, all in their very best
holiday attire; and, distressed as is the district, bad as are the
times, it is wonderful to see how respectably, how handsomely even, they
have contrived to clothe themselves. That British love of decency will
work miracles. The poverty which reduces an Irish girl to rags is
impotent to rob the English girl of the neat wardrobe she knows
necessary to her self-respect. Besides, the lady of the manor--that
Shirley, now gazing with pleasure on this well-dressed and happy-looking
crowd--has really done them good. Her seasonable bounty consoled many a
poor family against the coming holiday, and supplied many a child with a
new frock or bonnet for the occasion. She knows it, and is elate with
the consciousness--glad that her money, example, and influence have
really, substantially, benefited those around her. She cannot be
charitable like Miss Ainley: it is not in her nature. It relieves her to
feel that there is another way of being charitable, practicable for
other characters, and under other circumstances.

Caroline, too, is pleased, for she also has done good in her small
way--robbed herself of more than one dress, ribbon, or collar she could
ill spare, to aid in fitting out the scholars of her class; and as she
could not give money, she has followed Miss Ainley's example in giving
her time and her industry to sew for the children.

Not only is the churchyard full, but the rectory garden is also
thronged. Pairs and parties of ladies and gentlemen are seen walking
amongst the waving lilacs and lab