freedom and semi-starvation, and deemed himself very lucky indeed
when at length he regained levitical harbourage.

These things had his daughter watched with her intent dark eyes;
Constance Bride did not feel kindly disposed towards the Church of
England as by law established. She had seen her mother sink under
penury and humiliation and all unmerited hardship; she had seen her
father changed from a vigorous, hopeful, kindly man to an embittered
pessimist. As for herself, sound health and a good endowment of
brains enabled her to make a way in the world. Luckily, she was a
sole child: her father managed to give her a decent education till
she was old enough to live by teaching. But teaching was not her
vocation. Looking round for possibilities, Constance hit upon the
idea of studying pharmaceutics and becoming a dispenser; wherein,
with long, steady effort, she at length succeeded. This project had
already been shaped whilst the Brides were at Alverholme; Mrs.
Lashmar had since heard of Constance as employed in the dispensary
of a midland hospital.

"Hollingford?" remarked the vicar, as they walked on. "I think I
remember that you have relatives there."

"I was born there, and I have an old aunt still living in the town--she
keeps a little baker's shop."

Mr. Lashmar, though a philosopher, was not used to this bluntness of
revelation; it gave him a slight shock, evinced in a troublous
rolling of the eyes.

"Ha! yes!--I trust you will dine with us this evening, Miss