Ferguson had done her luckless best to make as fine as possible, her
tall, slender figure, harmonious movements and tones, being only more
noticeable by the presence of that stout, gaudily-dressed, and loud-
speaking woman, most people would have said that, though he had
married a governess, a solitary, unprotected woman, with neither kith
nor kin to give her dignity, earning her own bread by her own honest
labor, the master of Saint Bede's was not exactly a man to be pitied.

He rose, and having silently shown the paper to Christian, enclosed it in
an envelope, and gave it to Mr. Ferguson.

"Will you take the trouble of forwarding this to 'The Times,' the latest
of all your many kindnesses?" said he, with that manner, innately a
gentleman's, which makes the acknowledging of a favor appear like the
conferring of one.

Worthy James Ferguson took it as such; but he was a person of deeds,
not words; and he never could quite overcome the awe with which, as
an Avonsbridge person, he, the jeweler of High Street, regarded the
master of St. Bede's.

Meanwhile the snow, which had been falling all day, fell thicker and
thicker, so that the hazy light of the drawing-room darkened into
absolute gloom.

"Don't you think the children should be here?" said Mrs. Ferguson,
pausing in her assiduous administration of cake and wine. "That is--I'm
sure I beg your pardon, master--if they are really coming."

"I desired my sisters to send them without fail," quietly replied the