xt7nvx05xs92 https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7nvx05xs92/data/mets.xml Tabor, Eliza. 1863  books b92-204-30752566 English Harper, : New York : Contact the Special Collections Research Center for information regarding rights and use of this collection. St. Olave's  : a novel / [Eliza Tabor Stephenson] text St. Olave's  : a novel / [Eliza Tabor Stephenson] 1863 2002 true xt7nvx05xs92 section xt7nvx05xs92 




                         HARP ER 'S




 LIBRARY OF SELECT NOVELS.



II Hamm  Ba'rnm wiU send either of the following Works by Mail postage prepaid (for any distance in
                      tUe United States under 1500 miles), on receipt of the Money.



1. Pelham. By Bulwer ................. 
2. The Disowned. By Bulwer...............
3. Devereax. By Bulwer ...................
4. Paul Clifford. By Bulwer................
5. Eugene Aram. By Bulwer...............
6. The Last Days of Pompeii. By Bulwer ....
T. The Czarina. By Mrm. Holland...........
8. Riensi   By Bulwer......................
9. Self-Devotion. By Miss Campbell.........
10. The Nabob at Home......................
11. Ernest Maltravers. By Bulwer ...........
12. Alice; or, The lysteries. By Bulwer.....
13. The Last of the Barons. By.Bulwer.......
14. Forest Days. By James..................
15. Adam Brown, the Merchant. By 11. Smith.
16. Pilgrims of the Rhine. By Buliwer........
17. The Home. By Miss Bremer .............
IS. The Lost Ship. By Captain Neale ........
19. The False Heir. By James ..............
20. The Neighbors. By Miss Bremer.........
21. Nina. By Miss Bremer ..................
22. The President's Daughters. By Miss Bremer
23. The Bankers Wife. By Mrs. Gore .......
24. The Birthright.   By Mrs. Gore ...........
25. New Sketches of Every-Day Life. By Miss
     Bremer ...............................
26. Arabella Stuart. By James ..............
21. The Grumbler. By Mies Pickering .......
28. The Unloved One. By Mrs. Hofland......
29. Jack of the MilL  By William Howitt .....
30. The Heretic. By Lajetchnikoff...........
31. The Jew.   By Spindler...................
32. Arthur. By Sue.........................
33. Chatsworth. By Ward...................
34. The Prairie Bird. By C. A. Murray ......
35. Amy Herbert. By Miss Sewell ...........
36. Rose d'Albret. By James................
3T. The Triumphs of Time. By Mrs. Marsh...
38. The HI-      Family.  By Miss Bremer......
39. The Grandfather. By Miss Pickering.....
4). Arrah NeiL   By James...................
41. The Jilt .................................
42. Tales from the German...................
43. Arthur ArundeL    By HL Smith...........
44. Agincourt. By James....................
45. The Regent's Daughter..................
46. The Maid of Honor.......................
47. Safia. By De Beauvoir ..................
48. Look to the End. By Mrs. Ellis...........
49. The Improvisatore. By Andersen.........
50. The Gambler's Wife. By Mrs. Grey......
51. Veronica. By Zschokke..................
52. Zoe. By Miss Jewabury..................
53. Wyoming...............................
54 De Rohan.    By Sue ......................
56. Selt  By the Author of " CeciL"..........
56. The Smuggler. By James................
5T. The Breach of Promise....................
58. Parsonage of Mora. By Miss Bremer......
59. A Chance Medley. By T. C. Grattan .....
60. The White Slave.........................
61. The Bosom Friend. By Mrs. Grey ........
62. Amaury. By Dua   ....................



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                                        Paics
 63. The Author's Daughter. By Mary lowlitt..  25
 64. Only a Fiddler! c. By Andersen .......   50
 65. The Whiteboy. By Mrs. Hall ......  ......  60
 66. The Foster Brother. EFited by Leigh Hunt.  50
 6T. Love and Mesmerism. By HL Smith .......   50
 68. Ascanio. By Dumas ........   .............  50
 69. Lady of Milan. Edited by Mr Thomson..     50
 70. The Citizen of Prague ....................  50
 71. The Royal Favorite. By Mrs. Gore .......  25
 72. The Queen of Denmark. By Mrm Gore      ..... 25
 73. The Elves, . By Teck .......   ..........  50
 74, 75. The Step-Mother. By James ..........  50
 76. Jessle's Flirtations ........................  25
 7T. Chevalier d'Harmentaf. By Dumar .......   25
 T8. Peers and Parvenus. By Mrs. Gore .......  25
 T9. The Commaider of Malta. By Sue .........  25
 80. The Female Minister .....................  25
 81. Emilia Wyndim. By Mr Marsh .......        50
 82. The Bush.-anger. By Charles Rowcroft ..   50
 83. The Chronicles of Clovernook ...... .......  25
 84. Genevieve. By Lamartine ...............   25
 85. Livonian Tales ...........................  25
 86. Lettice Arnold. By Mrs .Marsh.     .........  25
 8T. Father Darcy. By Mrs. Marsh ...........   50
 88. Leontine. By Mrs MaberlY ....50......... ,b
 89. Heidelberg. By James ...................  50
 90. Lucretia. By Bulwer ....................  25
 91. Beauchamp. By James .......    ...........  50
 92. 94. Fortescue. By Knowles ..............  50
 93. Daniel Dennison, a   By Mr Hofland ....  25
 95. Cinq-Mars   By De Vigny .......  .........  t9
 96. Womna.Tzas. By Mrs. S. C. Hall ......    50
 9T. The Castle of Ehrenstein. By James ......  25
 98. Marriage. By Mls8. Ferrier .....   .......  60
 99. Roland CasheL  By Lever .......  .........  75
 100. Martins of Cro' Martin. By Lever ........  50
 101. Russell. By James ...................,.   50
 102. A Simple Story. By Mrs. Inchbald ........  25
 103. Norman's Brtdge. By Mrs. Marsh   .....    50
 104. Alamance ...............................  50
 105. Margaret Graham. By James ......    ......  25
 106. The Wayside Cross. By E. H.MMn      ..... 25
 107. The Convict. By James ..................  25
 108. Midsummer Eve. By Mm S. C Hall .....      25
 109. Jane Eyre. By Currer Bell ...............  50
 110. The Last of the Fairies. By James ........  25
 111. Sir Theodore Broughton. By James ......   60
 112. Self.ControL  By Mary Branton ..... .....  50
 113, 114. Harold. By Bulwer .................  50
 115. Brothers and Sisters. By Mis Bremer ....  50
 116. Gowrie. By James .........   .............  25
 117. A Whim and its Conelnences. By James.     50
 118. Three Sister and Three Fortunes. By G.
      IL Lewes Eas q ......................... 60
119. The Discipline of Life ..........    ...  50
120. Thirty Years Since.                  50
121. Mary Barton. By Mrs Gaskell ...........   50
122. The Great Hoggarty Diamond. By Thac-
      eray ..................................  25
123. The Forgery. By James .......   ..........  50
124. The Midnight Sun. By Misk Bremer ......   25
125, 126. The Caxtons. By Bulwer ............  50
127. Mordaunt Hal   By Mrs. Marsh ..........   S W

 



HARPER'S LIBRARY OF SELECT NOVELS.



128 My Utncle the Curate .   ...................
129. The Woodman. By James .................
130. The Green Hand. A "Short Yarn ......"
131. Sidonia the Sorceress. By Meinhold ......
132. Shirley. By Currer Bell ................
133. The Ogilvies.   ..........................
134. Constance Lyndsay. By G. C. H...........
135. Sir Edward Graham. By Miss Sinclair....
136. Hands not Heafts. By Mims Wilkinson....
137. The Wilmingtons. By Mrs. Marsh ........
138. Ned Allen. By D. Hannay..............
139. Night and Morning. By Bulawer ..........
140. The Maid of Orleans....................
141. Antonina. By Wilkie Collins............
142. Zanori. By Bulwer.....................
143. Reginald Hastings. By Warburton .......
144. Pride and Irresolution ....................
145. The Old Oak Chest. By James ...........
146. Julia Howard. By Mri. Martin Bell.......
147. Adelaide LindEay. Edited by Mrs. Marsh..
148. Petticoat Government. By Mrs. Trollope..
149. The Luttrells. By F. Williams.........
150. Singleton Fontenoy, R.N. By Hannay ....
151. Olive. By the Author of "The Ogilviee." .
1b2. Henry Smeaton. By James ...........
153. Time, the Avenger. By Mrs. Marsh ......
154. The Commnissioner. By James...........
156. The Wife's Sister. By Mrs. HIubback .....
156. The Gold Worshipers ....................
157. The Daughter of Night. By Fullom.......
158. Stuart of Dunleath.    By Hon. Caroline
      Norton ................................
159. Arthur Conway. By Captain E; It Milman
160. The Fate. By James....................
161. The Lady and the Priest. By Mrs. Maberly
162. Aims andObstacles. By James..........
163. The Tutor's Ward.......................
164. Florence Sackville. By Mrs. Burbury .....
15. Ravenocliffe. By Mrs. Marsh .............
166. Maurice Tiernsy. By Lever.............
167. The Head of the Family. By the Author
      of "Olive." ...........................
16i  Darien. By Warbuton.................
169. Falkenburg .   .............................
170. The Daltons. By Lever.................
ITL lvar; or,The Skjuts-Boy. ByMisis Carlen.
1T7. Pequinillo. By James...................
1T3. Anna Hammer. By Temme.............
174. A Life of Vicissitudes. By James.........
175. Henry Esmond. By Thackeray ....... ...
176, 1T. My Novel. By Bulwer ..............
178. Katie Stewart ...........................
179. Castle Avon. By Mrs Marsh .............
180. Agnes SoreL  By James ..................
181. Agatha's Husband. By the Author of
      "' Olive.. ............................
182. Villette. By Cuofer Bel.................
183. Lover's Stratagem. By Miss Carlen.......
1S4 Clouded Happiness. By Countess D'Oray..
185. Charles Auchester. A Memorial ..........
1S6. Lady Lee's Widowhood...................
187. Dodd Family Abroad. By Lever..........
188. Sir Jasper Carew. By Lever .............
189. Quiet Heart .............................
190. Aubrey. By Mrs. Marsh ................
191. Ticonderoga. ByJame..................
192. Hard Times. By Dickens ................
193. The Young Husband. By Mr. Grey......
1946 TheMotherxsRecompelnse. ByGraceAguflar
196. Avillion, and other Tales. By the Author
      of " Olive," C ........................
194 North and South. By Mrs. Gskell.
I. Country Neighborhood. By Miss Dupuy ..
198 Constance HerberL    By Miss Jewsbury....
199. The Heiress of Haughton. By Mrs. arsh.
200. The Old Dominion. By James...........
20L John Halifax. By the Author of "Olive," c.



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                                         PM-cS
202. Evelyn Marston. By Mm Marsh........  so
203. Fortunes of Glencore. By Lever ..........  )
204. Leonora d'Orco. By James...............  s
205. Nothing New. By Miss Mulock.           50
206. The Rose of Ashurat. By Mrs. Marsh .  50
207. The Athelings. By Mrs. Oliphant  .     o
208. Scenes of Clerical Life   .o
209. My Lady ludlow. By Mrs. Gaskell .     25
210, 211. Gerald Fitzgerald. By Lever .    50
212. A Life for a TL  By Miss Mulock .      50
213. Sword and Gown. By the Author of "Guy
      Livingstone."..                      25
214. Misrepresentation. By Anna H. Drury   50
215. The Mill on the Flo's. By the Author of
      "Adam Bede...                        50
216. One of Them. By Lever.                 5)
217. A Day's Ride. By Lever.               5
218. Notice to Quit. By Wills.              50
219. A Strange Story. By Buwer      ..25
220. The Struggles of Brown, Jones, and Robin-
      son. By Trollope .25
221. Abel Drakes Wife. By John Saunders .   0
222. Olive Blake's Good Work. By John Cordy
      Jeaffreson.........                  50
223. The Professor's Lady.                  23
224. Mistress and Maid. A Household Story.
      By Miss Mulock. ..50
225. Aurora Floyd. By M. E. Braddon .       25
226. Barrington. By Iever..................  50
22T. Sylvia's Lovers By Mm. Gaskel .50
228. A First Friendship.....................  25
229. A Dark Night' a Work .25
230. The House by the Churchyard.           50
231. St. Olave's .50
232. A Point of Honor.......................  25
233. Live it DownL By Jeafreson .... . .....  50



2


 




S T.



O LIAVE'S.



                a NovdI










          ' Lire for to-day ! to-morrow's light
          To-morrow's cares shall bring to sight,
          Go, sleep like closing flowers at night,
          And Heaven thy morn will bless."












             NEW YORK:
HARPER  BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS,
             FRANKLIN SQUARE.
                   18 6 3

 
This page in the original text is blank.


 


ST. OLJAVE'S.



                CHAPTER L

   "BoErnEt I"
   No reply.
   "Brother Davie."
   Stiil no reply.
   Janet Bruce looked at the clock over the
mantel-piece, and then went on with her knitting,
a quaint, half-amused expression creeping into
her face.
  A quiet fAce it was, out of which all that the
world calls joy had long ago been quenched, and
upon which there rested the benediction that
comes when joy has gone even peace.
  A face where passionate feeling, either of grief
or gladness, would never come again. You might
tell by a single glance that the soul which looked
through those still eyes had passed the worst
that could be passed of human sorrow-and con-
quered too. It was a face which expressed
nothing now but a certain grave, sweet serious-
ness, whose very smile was full of cairn, and as for
laughing-but who ever saw Janet Bruce laugh I
  The rest of the figure was an exact match to
the face; neat-exquisitely neat, but lacking all
those graces and innocent little shifts of vanity
wherewith happy women love to deck them-
selves. There was no attempt at style about
the grey Llama dress, falling in soft motionless
folds to the floor; nothing piquant and "natty "
in the white linen collar with its simple bow of
tartan ribbon. No one could say that more than
needful time had been spent in the arrangement
of the black hair-crisp and glossy yet-which
was gathered loosely from the forehead and fast-
ened behind under a knot of velvet. You looked
in vain, too, for jewels, in the shape of pin,
brooch, or stud; anything that sparkled would
clearly enough have been out of place on that
sombre, grey-like background.
  Miss Bruce was matter of fact,-intensely
matter of fact; that was the, very expression to
designate her outer life in all its phases and
manifestations. Of the inner one, no sign was
ever given. The springiness and romance of
life suddenly wrenched away from her, she
buried their memory once and for ever in a
grave that no resurrection could open. C Instead
of weeping over the past, as most do, she turned
resolutely away from it, gathered up the count-
less little cares and duties still remaining, and
out of these wove the rest of her life, making it,
if not beautiful, at least useful and serviceable4
Putting awayr as something no longer needed, all
hope or longing, she did the best she could to
walks worthily in the track placed before her,
which was that of a quiet maiden lady.
  There are many Janet Bruces in the world;
God bless them wherever they may be ! Jostled,
smiled at, ridiculed, ignored, forgotten,-God



bless them still I For there is nothing so noble,
-nothing half so noble-as that a woman who
has been what society calls " disappointed,"
should thus unselfishly shut down the memory
of early grieg and take the weal of others to be
henceforth her care; day by day, unacknowledged
and unthanked, dropping kindly deeds and pleas-
ant words into a world where for her there is no
home, no fireside place; where none calls her
dearest, none calls her best. We shall find one
day that no martyr's crown is brighter than that
which Jesus will give to these patient ones of
whom on earth we took so little heed.
  Miss Bruce was sitting in the low, old-fash-
ioned window seat, knitting a dainty little white
sock, her chief employment when she was not
mending the household linen, or going leisurely
about her daily domestic duties. What might
be the destination of these useful articles, as pair
after pair was narrowed off and completed, no
one could tell, save perhaps some needy mother
in the Tract district. For Miss Bruce had no
nieces and nephews, no baby cousins and god-
children among whom to distribute them. Her
only relative in all the wide world was this
brother Davie, who sat at the table half smoth-
ered in a pile of manuscript music and murmur-
mg to himself in an under tone-
  "The chord of the dominant seventh to be
changed into the chord of the extreme sharp
sixth, by changing dominant F into E sharp, so
bringing the melody into F sharp major. Alto
voice to commence."
  Miss Bruce looked up at the timepiece again,
then out into the garden, where the sunlight had
already begun to make long slanting shadows
upon the grass Then she put down her knit-
ting, and laid her hand gently upon her brother's
shoulder.
  Don't fancy, courteous reader, that she is going
to say anything remarkable to him. Miss Bruce
never said anything remarkable in her life.
  " Davie, it's half-past six, and Miss Grey will
be here to tea at seven. You really must go
and change your coat, and put another collar
on."
  David shook himself and pushed aside a quan-
tity of tangled grey hair, thereby bringing to
view a steady, set, " no surrender " so8t of face.
He began to consider his coat, a loose study
wrap, already betraying symptoms of seediness at
the elbows; certainly not the style of costume
in which to receive a stranger, especially if that
stranger chanced to be a young lady of graceful
presence and aristocratic connections.
  " Who did you say was coming, Jeanlie"
  "Alice Grey, the niece of that old lady, Mis-
tress Amiel Grey, who lives in the Cathedral
Close."
  " You mean that pleasant old lady who asked

 


ST. OLAVE'S.



you to tea a month ago; the same who comes
to morning prayers sometimes, and has a face
just like one of Mozart's Masses."
   Miss Bruce looked puzzled. Not being given
 to the use of figurative language herself she was
 at a loss to comprehend it from others.
   " I don't know about Mrs. Amiel Grey's face
 looking like a Mass, Davie; but it is a very kind
 face, and she always wears a clear-starched
 widow's cap, with a plaited frill coming down
 under the chin, like that picture of our grand-
 mother."
   David and Janet turned involuntarily to the
 portrait of an old lady which hung over the
 piano. The clear chiselling of the face, together
 with the finely moulded hands and taper fingers,
 indicated high descent and noble blood. He
 looked at it until an unquiet expression came
 into his rugged face; but after a single glance
 Miss Bruce returned to the subject in hand.
   " That old black tie of yours, Davie, I should
like you to change it too. I have no doubt, as
you say, it's gey comfortable, but it really
doesn't do to receive company in. You'll find a
new one that I bought you last week in your
dressing-table drawer,-black corded silk with
violet spots. And mind how you tie it, Davie,
for you haven't had it on before; and if they get
a wrong set the first time you can never make
them look nice afterwards. And about the collar,
don't get one of those marked ' Napoleon.'
They're just a thought too wide for you, and
don't fit exactly behind.  I must have them
sorted.  
  Miss Bruce gave all these directions with the
same quiet, earnest gravity which she would have
used in dictating her will, or giving evidence in
a court of justice. There were not many points
of interest in her life now, and one of them was
that her brother should be well cared for in
everything to which her oversight could reach.
  "You're just a continual plague to me,
Jeanie," but as David said the words he took
the hand which still rested on his shoulder, and
drawing it to him, leaned his cheek down upon
it in a quiet unconscious sort of way which be-
trayed how natural the gesture was.
  " I was getting on fine with this alto solo, and
if I put it away, the thoughts will never come
back in the same track. I wish you hadn't
asked any one. I'll be sair weary the night if
she stays long. What did you say her name
is "'
  "Alice Grey."
  "Alice Grey; it's a bonnie name, and what i
like is she"
  "Well, I've only seen her once without her i
bonnet, for she was away when I went to the
Old lodge. But she is a pleasant girl, very
lady-like. You know her aunt belongs to one i
of the best families in St. Olave's, and she has a 4
nice manner."
  Here Miss Bruce paused, having nothing
more to say in the way of elucidation. She wasI
by no means skilful in the art of delineating i
character.
  "Well, it can't be helped. She is the first 1
lady who has taken tea with us since we came I
here, and how long is that ago It wasn't so in I
Scotland, Jeanie."                         I
  Miss Bruce ignored the latter part of the sen-
tence.



   "Three months, Davie, just. You know we
 left Perth at the spring cleaning time."
   " And we've lived very quietly ever since. I
 don't think anybody cares for us here. Is that
 as God intended it to be, Jeanie "
   "I daresay there are a great many things in
 this world as God never intended them to be,
 Davie," and with that Miss Bruce drew her hand
 gently out of his, and began to clear away the
 scattered music sheets. Her brother took the
 hint, gave one more wistful look at his manu-
 scripts, and then went away to dress for the ex-
 pected visitor.
   When he was gone Janet began to "sort the
room." She was the very soul of neatness, not
indeed one of those monstrosities of method who
seem to have been born with a dusting brush in
their hands, and think no perfume equal to that
of yellow soap, no music so sweet as the rattle
of moving furniture; yet somehow there gathered
round her, wherever she went, an atmosphere of
tidiness, so that quietly and without any show of
effort, things seemed to faWl into their right
places.
  She began with the table where David had
been sitting, and put the loose sheets of music
back into the portfolio. Then she gathered up
his pencils and one or two old pens which he had
thrown upon the floor. This was done with a
tender, loving carefulness, her hands lingering
over the work, her face wearing a contented,
peaceful smile. This brother of hers was the
only outlet for any home kindness she had to
give, and it was given very reverently. When
the table was cleared, she went round the room,
giving little touches of arrangement here and
there, and looking often at the timepiece, whose
hands were fast approaching the stroke of seven.
  It was a pleasant room, such as one sees in
old-fashioned, well-built houses. The window,
which was broad ana low, and draperied with
curtains of drab moreen, looked out upon a
wide plot of grass, spotted with buttercups and
daisies. In the centre of this plot was a great
sun-dial, half covered with moss, the gnomon
tangled over with wild convolvulus and clusters of
briony. Round it wound a broad gravel walk,
and beyond that a second grass plot, bounded by
a belt of linden trees, whose branches shut out
all view of the road, except where space was left
for the gate. From this gateway the entire East
front of the Cathedral, with the grand sweep of
its arched window could be clearly seen.
  As fo- the interior of the Westwood sitting-
room, it as furnished simply enough, for David
Bruce was only just beginning to make his way
in the world, and hard work he found it. The
mrpet of crimson ground, interlaced with a small
running pattern of black, was somewhat worn,
and to judge from sundry side piecings had not
originally been intended for its present place.
Upon the square table, which stood near the
window, was a crimson cloth, embroidered round
the border with armorial bearings, in old-fash-
ioned cross and tent stitch. The paper was very
pretty, fresh and spring-like--a silvery grey
background, traced over with tiny leaves and
tendrils. There was no cornice to the ceiling,
for it had been made before this modern devico
came into fashion; but to supply its place was a
belt of crimson scroll pattern. A very plain
looking piano stood in one corner, open now with



6


 


ST. OLEVE''S.



music-chiefly cathedral music-upon it, and a
little Parian statuette of Beethoven on a bracket
just above. The only costly thing in the room
was an oval mirror over the fireplace, with a
massive carved oak border, where leaves, fruit
and flowers, twined and intertwined in rank
luxuriance, and stood out in bold relief against
the light background of the paper.   In one
corner by the piano, carefully heaped together,
were piles of music, volumes of chants, old brown
leather bound folios of anthems, mixed with loose
sheets of manuscript and counterpoint exer-
cises.
  But over all the room there was a strange and
very noticeable feeling of stillness.  It spoke
unconsciously, as most rooms do, the character of
its occupants, and gave a distinct impression of
seclusion and self-containment. It could be no
busy, many-colored, painfully anxious life which
was lived here. No gleam of brightness could
stay very long; any shadow of sorrow would be
softened too, if not entirely veiled by that unmis-
takable presence of repose that was felt as soon
as you crossed the threshold. If the thick clus-
tering vine and jasmine leaves which grew over
the trellis outside the window kept the sunlight
from coming through, except in fitful, wandering
streaks, they also hid the angry storms and black
thunder clouds of summer timo; and these leaves
but symbolized others that seemed to gather
round and shelter the place from the keen light
and shadow, the blinding sunshine and the
brooding fog, which rest by turns on most human
lives.
  Scarcely had Mr. Bruce made his appearance,
got up in suitable broadcloth, finished off by the
abovementioned black tie, with violet spots, when
there was a tread of light footsteps on the gravel
walk outside, a dainty knock at the front door,
and then, side by side with grey robed matter-of-
fact Janet Bruce, bringing with her into that
quiet room a strange waft of brightness, there
stood a fair English-looking maiden of noble
presence and soft, pleasant voice. ADd she bent
half-shyly, half-serenely, as her hostess pro-
nounced the words-
  " My brother-Miss Alice Grey."
  Poor Alice I if sho had only known how sorry
he was to see her.


                CHAPTER If.

  SE was a frank, winsome girl of eighteen, or
thereabouts  Not pretty, exactly, for her fea-
tures were none of them moulded with that per-
fact symmetry which artists and sculptors love to
copy. Still, Alice Grey's was a pleasant face.
The lines of it were yet unformed, changed by
every passing mood of feeling, scarcely cast into
any fixed mould by the strong working of the
soul within, but just reflecting the sunlight and
shade that passed over it. Such a face as mid-
dle-aged people look at tenderly, almost sadly,
because they know how surely before many
years have passed, sorrow, that inalienable her-
itage of humanity, shall fashion it into higher,
more perfect beauty. There was not much re-
pose in her countenance; it was bright, quick,
eager, expectant, and the glance of her wide
opened eyes was full of unspoken questionings-



unspoken only because life as yet had taught her
no language wherein to express them.
  David Bruce could not say for certain whether,
confusedly waking out of that pleasant music
dream which had occupied him all the time of
his toilet, he took the white hand of the visitor
in his own, or merely bowed in acknowledgment
of Janet's precise and somewhat formal intro-
duction. As was his wont with strangers, he
gave but a slight glance towards the face uplifted
to him, a glance so slight indeed that any im-
pression which it might have produced soon
faded out of his thoughts, and left them free to
wander in their own track. After tea-a gen-
uine Scottish tea it was, in which scones and
oat-cake formed a prominent part of the enter-
tainment-he betook himself to the copying of
some chants that had to be ready for morning
service at the Cathedral, only from time to time
contributing a stray word or two to the conver-
sation which was going on at the other side of
the room.
  Miss Bruce had resumed her knitting, and was
working away with that steady mechanical per-
tinacity that had become habitual to her. But
a half perceptible ruffle now and then upon her
face, or a somewhat nervous twitch of her needles,
indicated that she was not quite at ease in the
duty of entertaining unaccustomed guests. Ali
Grey, finding that the hostess was inclined to be
industrious, followed her example, and produced
from a little pink-lined work case, a bit of white
cashmere,-it might be a pin-cushion or a watch-
pocket, or some other piece of feminine handi-
craft,-upon which she began to weave a grace-
ful design in braid work, not seemingly after any
set pattern, but only as her own skill and fancy
led. Just the sort of work that expressed her-
selt
  Two more different types of womanhood it
would have been hard to find. Janet Bruce,
still, staid, self-contained, even-tinted as a land-
scape over which the grey twilight has come;
and Alice, with her affluence of youth and hope,
like that same landscape steeped in the bright-
ening hues of sunrise. One looking forth with
sure expectancy to coming joy, the other know-
ing it no longer but in memory.
  Miss Grey was not yet, according to technical
phrase, "out;" she had not emerged from the
coverture of home life into the great arena of
social display, and was therefore unprivileged to
assume the insignia of full-blown young lady-
bood. Still, though there was neither sheen of
silk nor sparlde of jewels about her, she made a
pretty enough picture as she sat there in the
broad low window seat, the slant rays of sun-
shine trickling through the curls of her golden
brown hair, and making the shadows of the vine
leaves play softly to and fro upon her cheek and
neck. She wore a dress of light blue muslin,
full and flowing, that showed like a bit of Italian
sky in the sombre room. Its only ornament was
a gleaming coil of black jet fastening the girdle,
and into which she had woven a few sprays of
white heath.
  Perhaps the word that best described Alice
Grey was the one which suggested itself to
Janet's thought as she watched her sitting there
in the sunlight. She was just " bonnie." Not
handsome, not fascinating, not stylish nor dis-
tingu4 but simply " bonnie "  The sort of char-



7

 


8ST. OLAVE'S.



aeter that strong men pet and caress, that they
love to have near them, and which little by little
twines round the rugged branches of their nature,
covering them with beauty and fragrance.
There was something so frank and fresh and
girlish about her, such a fitful maiden-like free-
dom in her ways, such an unschooled graceful-
ness in her simple speech. A nature hers was
that would have to be tamed down very much
as years passed on; one that would have to learn
much, perhaps to suffer much, before it could run
smoothly along in the beaten track of life.
  But whatever rank untamed luxuriance there
might be about her, was not so perceptible to-
night, for the indescribably quiet atmosphere that
surrounded the elder lady appeared to have en-
veloped Alice also, and there was a sort of con-
scious hesitation about her manner, the faintest
little tinge of shyness, which perhaps by-and-by
made Mr. Bruce lift his eyes from the yellow old
folio of chants to that corner where she sat, more
frequently than he would have done had she been
one of those carefully trimmed, admirably self-
possessed specimens of young ladyhood which
the cathedral city of St. Olave's usually pro-
duced.
  The two ladies had the conversation mostly to
themselves. It trickled pleasantly on over the
commonplace subjects that rise of their own ac-
cord between women who know each other but
slightly; women who are neither very intellec-
tual nor profoundly subjective. Innocent, peace-
ful, home-like chit-chat it was, about the daily
little cares and pleasures and belongings of life,
about amusing books, the most wholesome food
for canaries and gold fish, the best way of culti-
vating flowers, the pretty walks round St
Olave's, aud so on; dropping now and then into
silence, broken only by the motion of Miss Bruce's
needles, and the scratching of her brother's pen
over the paper.
  The evening wore on. The flush of sunset
that had long ago crept out of the room, died off
from the lower branches of the linden trees
which bounded the gard