So, when and how the darkness of the night-black steeple changed toshining light; when and how the solitary tower was peopled with amyriad figures; when and how the whispered ``Haunt and hunthim,'' breathing monotonously through his sleep or swoon, became avoice exclaiming in the waking ears of Trotty, ``Break hisslumbers;'' when and how he ceased to have a sluggish and confusedidea that such things were, companioning a host of others that werenot; there are no dates or means to tell. But: awake and standing onhis feet upon the boards where he had lately lain: he saw this GoblinSight.

He saw the tower, whither his charmed footsteps had brought him,swarming with dwarf phantoms, spirits, elfin creatures ofthe Bells. He saw them leaping, flying, dropping, pouring from theBells wlthout a pause. He saw them, round him on the ground; abovehim, in the air, clambering from him, by the ropes below; looking downupon him, from the massive iron-girded beams; peeping in upon him, through the chinks and loopholes in the walls, spreading away and awayfrom him in enlarging circles, as the water ripples give way to a hugestone that suddenly comes plashing in among them. He saw them, of allaspects and all shapes. He saw them ugly, handsome, crippled,exquisitely formed. He saw them young, he saw them old, he saw themkind, he saw them cruel, he saw them merry, he saw them grim; he sawthem dance, and heard them sing; he saw them tear their hair, andheard them howl. He saw the air thick with them. He saw them come andgo, incessantly. He saw them riding downward, soaring upward, sailingoff afar, perching near at hand, all restless and all violentlyactive. Stone, and brick, and slate, and tile, became transparent tohim as to them. He saw them

He saw these creatures, not only among sleeping men but wakingalso, active in pursuits irreconcilable with one another, andpossessing or assuming natures the most opposite. He saw one bucklingon innumerable wings to increase his speed; another loading himselfwith chains and weights, to retard his. He saw some putting the handsof clocks forward, some putting the hands of clocks backward, someendeavouring to stop the clock entirely. He saw them representing, here a marriage ceremony, there a funeral; in this chamber anelection, in that a ball; he saw, everywhere, restless and untiringmotion.

Bewildered by the host of shifting and extraordinary figures, aswell as by the uproar of the Bells, which all this while were ringing,Trotty clung to a wooden pillar for support, and turned hiswhite face here and there, in mute and stunned astonishment.

As he gazed, the Chimes stopped. Instantaneous change! The wholeswarm fainted! their forms collapsed, their speed deserted them; theysought to fly but in the act of falling died and melted into air. No fresh supply succeeded them. One straggler leaped down pretty brisklyfrom the surface of the Great Bell, and alighted on his feet, but hewas dead and gone before he could turn round. Some few of the latecompany who had gambolled in the tower, remained there, spinning overand over a little longer; but these became at every turn more faint,and few, and feeble, and soon went the way of the rest. The last ofall was one small hunchback, who had got into an echoing corner, wherehe twirled and twirled, and floated by himself a long time; showingsuch perseverance, that at last he dwindled to a leg and even to afoot, before he finally returned; but he vanished in the end, and thenthe tower was silent.

Then and not before, did Trotty see in every Bell a bearded figureof the bulk and stature of the Bell --incomprehensibly, a figure and the Bell itself. Gigantic, grave, anddarkly watchful of him, as he stood rooted to the ground.

Mysterious and awful figures! Resting on nothing; poised in thenight air of the tower, with their draped and hooded heads merged inthe dim roof; motionless and shadowy. Shadowy and dark, although hesaw them by some light belonging to themselves -- none else wasthere -- each with its muffled hand upon its goblin mouth.

He could not plunge down wildly through the opening in the floor;for all power of motion had deserted him. Otherwise he would have doneso -- aye, would have thrown himself, head-foremost, from thesteeple-top, rather than have seen them watching him with eyes thatwould have waked and watched although the pupils had been taken out.

Again, again, the dread and terror of the lonely place, and of thewild and fearful night that reigned there, touched him like a spectralhand. His dlstance from all help; the long, dark, winding,ghost-beleaguered way that lay between him and the earth on which men lived; his being high, high, high, up there, where it hadmade him dizzy to see the birds fly in the day; cut off from all goodpeople, who at such an hour were safe at home and sleeping in theirbeds; all this struck coldly through him, not as a reflection but abodily sensation. Meantime his eyes and thoughts and fears, were fixedupon the watchful figures; which, rendered unlike any figures of this world by the deep gloom and shade enwrapping and enfolding them, aswell as by their looks and forms and supernatural hovering above thefloor, were nevertheless as plainly to be seen as were the stalwart oaken frames, cross-pieces, bars and beams, set up there to supportthe Bells. These hemmed them in a very forest of hewn timber; from theentanglements, intricacies, and depths of which, as from among the boughs of a dead wood blighted for their Phantom use, they kept theirdarksome and unwinking watch.

A blast of air -- how cold and shrill! -- came moaning through the tower. As it died away, the Great Bell, or the Goblin ofthe Great Bell, spoke.

``What visitor is this!'' itsaid. The voice was low and deep, and Trotty fancied that it soundedin the other figures as well.

``I thought my name was called by the Chimes!'' said Trotty,raising his hands in an attitude of supplication. ``I hardly knowwhy I am here, or how I came. I have listened to the Chimes these manyyears. Thev have cheered me often.''

``And you have thanked them?'' said the Bell.

``A thousand times!'' cried Trotty.

``How?''

``I am a poor man,'' faltered Trotty, ``and could only thank them in words.''

``And always so?'' inquired the Goblin of the Bell. ``Haveyou never done us wrong in words?''

``No!'' cried Trotty eagerly.

``Never done us foul, and false, and wicked wrong, inwords?'' pursued the Goblin of the Bell.

Trotty was about to answer, ``Never!'' But he stopped, andwas confused.

``The voice of Time,'' said the Phantom, ``cries

``I never did so to my knowledge, sir,'' said Trotty. ``Itwas quite by accident if I did. I wouldn't go to do it, I'm sure.''

``Who puts into the mouth of Time, or of its servants,'' saidthe Goblin of the Bell, ``a cry of lamentation for days which havehad their trial and their failure, and have left deep traces of itwhich the blind may see -- a cry that only serves the presenttime, by showing men how much it needs their help when any ears canlisten to regrets for such a past -- who does this,does a wrong. And you have done that wrong, to us, the Chimes.''

Trotty's first excess of fear was gone. But he had felt tenderlyand gratefully towards the Bells, as you have seen; and when he heardhimself arraigned as one who had offended them so weightily, his heartwas touched with penitence and grief.

``If you knew,'' said Trotty, clasping his hands earnestly -- ``or perhaps you do know -- if you know how often youhave kept me company; how often you have cheered me up when I've beenlow; how you were quite the plaything of my little daughter Meg(almost the only one she ever had) when first her mother died, andshe and me were left alone -- you won't bear malice for a hastyword!''

``Who hears in us, the Chimes, one note bespeaking disregard, orstern regard, of any hope, or joy, or pain, or sorrow, of themany-sorrowed throng; who hears us make response to any creed thatgauges human passions and affections, as it gauges the amount ofmiserable food on which humanity may pine and wither; doesus wrong. That wrong you have done us!'' said the Bell.

``I have!'' said Trotty. ``Oh forgive me!''

``Who hears us echo the dull vermin of the earth: the PuttersDown of crushed and broken natures, formed to be raised up higher thansuch maggots of the time can crawl or can conceive,'' pursued theGoblin of the Bell; ``who does so, does us wrong. And you havedone us wrong!''

``Not meaning it,'' said Trotty. ``In my ignorance, notmeaning it!''

``Lastly, and most of all,'' pursued the Bell. ``Who turnshis back upon the fallen and disfigured of his kind; abandons them asVile; and does not trace and track with pitying eyes the unfencedprecipice by which they fell from Good -- grasping in their fall some tufts and shreds of that lost soil, and clinging to them stillwhen bruised and dying in the gulf below; does wrong to Heaven andMan, to Time and to Eternity. And you have done that wrong!''

``Spare me,'' cried Trotty, falling on his knees; ``for Mercy's sake!''

``Listen!'' said the Shadow

``Listen!'' cried the other Shadows

``Listen!'' said a clear and childlike voice, which Trottythought he recognised as having heard before

The organ sounded faintly in the church below. Swelling by degrees,the melody ascended to the roof and filled the choir and nave.Expanding more and more, it rose up, up; up, up; higher, higher,higher up; awakening agitated hearts within the burly piles of oak,the hollow bells, the iron-bound doors, the stairs of solid stone;until the tower walls were insufficient to contain it, and it soaredinto the sky

No wonder that, an old man's breast could not contain a sound sovast and mighty. It broke from that weak prison in a rush of tears;and Trotty put his hands before his face.

``Listen!'' said the Shadow.

``Listen!'' said the other Shadows.

``Listen!'' said the child's voice.

A solemn strain of blended voices, rose into the tower.

It was a very low and mournful strain : a Dirge : and as helistened, Trotty heard his child among the singers.

``She is Dead!'' exclaimed the old man. ``Meg is dead! HerSpirit calls to me. I hear it!''

``The Spirit of your child bewails the dead, and mingles withthe dead -- dead hopes, dead fancies dead imaginings ofyouth,'' returned the Bell, ``but she is living. Learn from herlife, a living truth. Learn from the creature dearest to your heart,how bad the Bad are born. See every bud and leaf plucked one by onefrom off the rarest stem, and know how bare and wretched it may be.Follow her! To Desperation!''

Each of the shadowy figures stretched its right arm forth, andpointed downward.

``The Spirit of the Chimes is your companion, said the figure.``Go! It stands behind you!''

Trotty turned, and saw -- the child? The child Will Fern hadcarried in the street; the child whom Meg had watched, but now,asleep!

``I carried her myself, to-night,'' saidTrotty. ``In these arms!''

``Show him what he calls himself,'' said the dark figures,one and all.

The tower opened at his feet. He looked down, and beheld his ownform, lying at the bottom, on the outside: crushed and motionless.

``No more a living man!'' cried Trotty. ``Dead!''

``Dead!'' said the figures all together.

``Gracious Heaven! And the New Year --''

``Past,'' said the figures.

``What!'' he cried, shuddering. ``I missed my way, andcoming on the outside of this tower in the dark, fell down -- ayear ago?''

``Nine years ago!'' replied the figures.

As they gave the answer, they recalled their outstretched hands;and where their figures had been, there the Bells were.

And they rung; their time being come again. And once again, vastmultitudes of phantoms sprung into existence; once again, wereincoherently engaged, as they had been before; once again, faded

``What are these?'' he asked his guide. ``If I am not mad,what are these?''

``Spirits of the Bells. Their sound upon the air,'' returnedthe child. ``They take such shapes and occupations as the hopes andthoughts of mortals, and the recollections they have stored up, givethem.''

``And you,'' said Trotty wildly. ``What are you?''

``Hush, hush!'' returned the child. ``Look here!''

In a poor, mean room: working at the same kind of embroidery whichhe had often, often, seen before her; Meg, his own dear daughter, waspresented to his view. He made no effort to imprint his kisses on herface; he did not strive to clasp her to his loving heart; he knew thatsuch endearments were, for him, no more. But, he held his tremblingbreath, and brushed away the blinding tears, that he might look uponher; that he might only see her.

Ah! Changed. Changed. The light of the clear eye, how dimmed. Thebloom, how faded from the cheek. Beautiful she was, as she had everbeen, but Hope, Hope, Hope, oh where was the fresh Hope that hadspoken to him like a voice!

She looked up from her work, at a companion. Fol- lowing her eyes,the old man started back.

In the woman grown, he recognised her at a glance. In the longsilken hair, he saw the self-same curls; around the lips, the child'sexpression lingering still. See! In the eyes, now turned inquiringlyon Meg, there shone the very look that scanned those features when hebrought her home!

Then what was this, beside him!

Looking with awe into its face, he saw a something reigning there:a lofty something, undefined and in- distinct, which made it hardlymore than a remembrance of that child -- as yonder figure mightbe -- yet it was the same: the same: and wore the dress.

Hark. They were speaking!

``Meg,'' said Lilian, hesitating. ``How often you raise your head from your work to look at me!'' .

``Are my looks so altered, that they frighten you?'' asked Meg.

``Nay, dear! But you smile at that, yourself! Why not smile,when you look at me, Meg?''

``I do so. Do I not?'' she answered: smiling on her.

``Now you do,'' said Lilian, ``but not usually. When youthink I'm busy, and don't see you, you look so anxious and sodoubtful, that I hardly like to raise my eyes. There is little causefor smiling in this hard and toilsome life, but you were once socheerful.''

``Am I not now!'' cried Meg, speaking in a tone of strangealarm, and rising to embrace her. ``Do

``You have been the only thing that made it life,'' saidLilian, fervently kissing her; ``sometimes the only thing that mademe care to live so, Meg. Such work, such work! So many hours, so manydays, so many long, long nights of hopeless, cheerless, never-ending work -- not to heap up riches, not to live grandly or gaily, notto live upon enough, however coarse; but to earn barebread: to scrape together just enough to toil upon, and want upon, andkeep alive in us the consciousness of our hard fate! Oh Meg, Meg!''she raised her voice and twined her arms about her as she spoke, likeone in pain. ``How can the cruel world go round, and bear to lookupon such lives!''

``Lilly!'' said Meg, soothing her, and putting back her hairfrom her wet face. ``Why Lilly! You! So pretty and so young!''

``Oh Meg!'' she interrupted, holding her at arm's-length, andlooking in her face imploringly. ``The worst of all, the worst ofall! Strike me old, Meg! Wither me, and shrivel me, and free me fromthe dreadful thoughts that tempt me in my youth!''

Trotty turned to look upon his guide. But, the Spirit of the childhad taken flight. Was gone. Neither did he himself remain in the sameplace; for, Sir Joseph Bowley, Friend and Father of the Poor, held agreat festivity at Bowley Hall, in honour of the natal day of LadyBowley. And as Lady Bowley had been born on New Year's Day (which thelocal newspapers considered an especial pointing of the finger of

Bowley Hall was full of visitors. The red-faced gentleman wasthere, Mr. Filer was there, the great Alderman Cute was there --Alderman Cute had a sympathetic feeling with great people, and hadconsiderably improved his acquaintance with Sir Joseph Bowley on thestrength of his attentive letter: indeed had become quite a friend ofthe family since then -- and many guests were there. Trotty'sghost was there, wandering about, poor phantom, drearily; and lookingfor its guide.

There was to be a great dinner in the Great Hall. At which SirJoseph Bowley, in his celebrated character of Friend and Father, ofthe Poor, was to make his great speech. Certain plum-puddings were tobe eaten by his Friends and Children in another Hall first; and, at agiven signal, Friends and Children flocking in among their Friends andFathers, were to form a family assemblage, with not one manly eye therein unmoistened by emotion.

But, there was more thanthis to happen. Even more than this. Sir Joseph Bowley, Baronet and Member of Parliament, was to play a match at skittles -- realskittles -- with his tenants!

``Which quite reminds me,'' said Alderman Cute, ``of thedays of old King Hal, stout King Hal, bluff King Hal. Ah. Finecharacter!''

``Very,'' said Mr. Filer, dryly. ``For marrying women andmurdering 'em. Considerably more than the average number of wives bythe bye.''

``You'll marry the beautiful ladies, and not murder 'em,eh?'' said Alderman Cute to the heir of Bowley, aged twelve.``Sweet boy! We shall have this little gentleman in Parliamentnow,'' said the Alderman, holding him by the shoulders, and lookingas reflective as he could, ``before we know where we are. We shallhear of his successes at the poll; his speeches in the House; hisovertures from Governments; his brilliant achievements of all kinds;ah! we shall make our little orations about him in the Common Council,I'll be bound; before we have time to look about us!''

``Oh, the difference of shoes and stockings!'' Trotty thought. But his heart yearned towards the child, for the loveof those same shoeless and stockingless boys, predestined (by theAlderman) to turn out bad, who might have been the children of poorMeg.

``Richard,'' moaned Trotty, roaming among the company, to andfro; ``where is he? I can't find Richard! Where is Richard?''

Not likely to be there, if still alive! But Trotty's grief andsolitude confused him; and he still went wandering among the gallantcompany, looking for his guide, and saying, ``Where is Richard?Show me Richard!''

He was wandering thus, when he encountered Mr. Fish, theconfidential Secretary: in great agitation.

``Bless my heart and soul!'' cried Mr. Fish. ``Where's Alderman Cute? Has anybody seen the Alderman?''

Seen the Alderman? Oh dear! Who could ever help seeing theAlderman? He was so considerate, so affable, he bore so much in mindthe natural desires of folks to see him, that if he had a fault, itwas the being constantly On View. And wherever the great people were, there, to be sure, attracted by the kindred sympathybetween great souls, was Cute.

Several voices cried that he was in the circle round Sir Joseph.Mr. Fish made way there; found him; and took him secretly into awindow near at hand. Trotty joined them. Not of his own accord. He felt that his steps were led in that direction.

``My dear Alderman Cute,'' said Mr. Fish. ``A little morethis way. The most dreadful circumstance has occurred. I have thismoment received the intelligence. I think it will be best not toacquaint Sir Joseph with it till the day is over. You understand SirJoseph, and will give me your opinion. The most frightful anddeplorable event!''

``Fish!'' returned the Alderman. ``Fish! My good fellowwhat is the matter? Nothing revolutionary, I hope! No -- noattempted interference with the magistrates?''

``Deedles, the banker,'' gasped the Secretary. ``DeedlesBrothers -- who was to have been here to-day -- high inoffice in the Goldsmiths' Company --''

``Not stopped!'' exclaimed the Alderman. ``It can't be!''

``Shot himself!''

``Good God!''

``Put a double-barrelled pistol to his mouth, in his owncounting-house,'' said Mr. Fish, ``and blew his brains out. Nomotive. Princely circumstances!''

``Circumstances!'' exclaimed the Alderman. ``A man ofnoble fortune. One of the most respectable of men. Suicide, Mr. Fish!By his own hand!''

``This very morning,'' returned Mr. Fish.

``Oh the brain, the brain!'' exclaimed the pious Alderman, lifting up his hands. ``Oh the nerves, the nerves; the mysteries ofthis machine called Man! Oh the little that unhinges it: poorcreatures that we are! Perhaps a dinner, Mr. Fish. Perhaps the conductof his son, who, I have heard, ran very wild, and was in the habit ofdrawing bills upon him without the least authority! A most respectableman. One of the most respectable men I ever knew! A lamentable instance, Mr. Fish. A public calamity! I shall make a point of wearingthe deepest mourning. A most respectable man! But there is One above.We must submit, Mr. Fish. We must submit!''

What,Alderman! No word of Putting Down? Remember, Justice, your high moralboast and pride. Come, Alderman! Balance those scales. Throw me intothis, the empty one, No Dinner, and Nature's Founts in some poorwoman, dried by starving misery and rendered obdurate to claims forwhich her offspring

The words rose up in Trotty's breast, as if they had been spoken bysome other voice within him. Alderman Cute pledged himself to Mr. Fishthat he would assist him in breaking the melancholy catastrophe to Sir Joseph when the day was over. Then, before they parted, wringingMr. Fish's hand in bitterness of soul, he said, ``Themost respectable of men!'' And added that he hardly knew : not evenhe: why such afflictions were allowed on earth.

``It's almost enough to make one think, if one didn't knowbetter,'' said Alderman Cute, ``that at times some motion of acapsizing nature was going on in things, which affected the generaleconomy of the social fabric. Deedles Brothers!''

The skittle-playing came off which immense success. Sir Josephknocked the pins about quite skilfully; Master Bowley took an inningsat a shorter distance also; and everybody said that now, when a Baronet and the Son of a Baronet played at skittles, the country wascoming round again, as fast as it could come.

At its proper time, the Banquet was served up. Trotty involuntarilyrepaired to the Hall with the rest, for he felt himself conductedthither by some stronger impulse than his own free will. The sight was gay in the extreme; the ladies were very handsome; the visitorsdelighted, cheerful, and good-tempered. When the lower doors wereopened, and the people flockcd in, in their rustic dresses, the

There had been some speeches made; and Lady Bowley's health hadbeen proposed; and Sir Joseph Bowley had returned thanks, and had madehis great speech, showing by various pieces of evidence that he wasthe born Friend and Father, and so forth; and had given as a Toast,his Friends and Children, and the Dignity of Labour; when a slightdisturbance at the bottom of the Hall attracted Toby's notice. After some confusion, noise, and opposition, one man broke through the rest,and stood forward by himself.

Not Richard. No. But one whom he had thought of, and had lookedfor, many times. In a scantier supply of light, he might have doubtedthe identity of that worn man, so old, and grey, and bent; but with ablaze of lamps upon his gnarled and knotted head, he knew Will Fern assoon as he stepped forth.

``What is this!'' exclaimed Sir Joseph, rising. ``Who gavethis man admittance? This is a criminal from prison! Mr.Fish, sir,

``A minute!'' said Will Fern. ``A minute! My Lady, you wasborn on this day along with a New Year. Get me a minute's leave tospeak.''

She made some intercession for him. Sir Joseph took his seat again,with native dignity.

The ragged visitor -- for he was miserably dressed --looked round upon the company, and made his homage to them with ahumble bow

``Gentlefolks!'' he said. ``You've drunk the Labourer. Look at me!''

``Just come from jail,'' said Mr. Fish.

``Just come from jail,'' said Will. ``And neither for thefirst time, nor the second, nor the third, nor yet the fourth.''

Mr. Filer was heard to remark testily, that four times was over theaverage; and he ought to be ashamed of himself.

``Gentlefolks!'' repeated Will Fern. ``Look at me! You seeI'm at the worst. Beyond all hurt or harm; beyond your help; for thetime when your kind words or kind actions could have done

``There's not a man here,'' said the host, ``who would have him for a spokesman.''

``Like enough, Sir Joseph. I believe it. Not the less true,perhaps, is what I say. Perhaps that's a proof on it. Gentlefolks,I've lived many a year in this place. You may see the cottage from thesunk fence over yonder. I've seen the ladies draw it in their books,a hundred times. It looks well in a picter, I've heerd say; but therean't weather in picters, and maybe 'tis fitter for that, than for aplace to live in. Well! I lived there. How hard -- how bitter hard, I lived there, I won't say. Any day in the year, and every day,you can judge for your own selves.''

He spoke as he had spoken on the night when

``'Tis harder than you think for, gentlefolks, to grow updecent: commonly decent: in such a place. That I growed up a man andnot a brute, says something for me -- as I was then.As I am now, there's nothing can be said for me or done for me. I'm past it.''

``I am glad this man has entered,'' observed Sir Joseph,looking round serenely. ``Don't disturb him. It appears to beOrdained. He is an Example: a living example. I hope and trust, andconfidently expect, that it will not be lost upon my Friendshere.''

``I dragged on,'' said Fern, after a moment's silence, ``somehow. Neither me nor any other man knows how; but so heavy,that I couldn't put a cheerful face upon it, or make believe that Iwas anything but what I was. Now, gentlemen -- you gentlemen thatsits at Sessions -- when you see a man with discontent writ onhis face, you says to one another, &onq;He's suspicious. I has mydoubts,&cnq; says you, &onq;about Will Fern Watch that fellow!&cnq; Idon't say, gentlemen, it an't quite nat'ral, but I say 'tis so; andfrom that hour, whatever Will Fern does, or lets alone -- all one-- it goes against him.''

Alderman Cute stuck his thumbs in his waistcoat pockets, and leaning back in his chair, and smiling winked at a neighbouringchandelier. As much as to say, ``Of course! I told you so. Thecommon cry! Lord bless you, we are up to all this sort of thing-- myself and human nature.''

``Now, gentlemen,'' said Will Fern, holding out his hands,and flushing for an instant in his haggard face, ``see how yourlaws are made to trap and hunt us when we're brought to this. I triesto live elsewhere. And I'm a vagabond. To jail with him! I comes backhere. I goes a-nutting in your woods, and breaks -- who don't?-- a limber branch or two. To jail with him! One of your keeperssees me in the broad day, near my own patch of garden, with a gun. Tojail with him! I has a nat'ral angry word with that man, when I'mfree again! To jail with him! I cuts a stick. To jail with him! I eatsa rotten apple or a turnip. To jail with him! It's twenty mile away; and coming back I begs a trifle on the road. To jail with him! Atlast, the constable, the keeper -- anybody -- finds meanywhere, a-doing anything. To jail with him, for he's a vagrant,

The Alderman nodded sagaciously, as who should say, ``A verygood home too!''

``Do I say this to serve

A sudden stir and agitation took place in the Hall. Trotty thoughat first, that several had risen to eject the man; and hence thischange in its appearance. But, another moment showed him that the roomand all the company had vanished from his sight, and that hisdaughter was again before him, seated at her work. But in a poorer,meaner garret than before; and with no Lilian by her side.

The frame at which she had worked, was put away upon a shelf andcovered up. The chair in which she had sat, was turned against thewall. A history was written in these little things, and in Meg'sgrief-worn face. Oh! who could fail to read it!

Meg strained her eyes upon her work until it was

A great part of the evening had worn away, when a knock came at herdoor. She opened it. A man was on the threshold. A slouching, moody,drunken sloven, wasted by intemperance and vice, and with his mattedhair and unshorn beard in wild disorder; but, with some traces on him,too, of having been a man of good proportion and good features in hisyouth.

He stopped until he had her leave to enter; and she, retiring apace or two from the open door, silently and sorrowfully looked uponhim. Trotty had his wish. He saw Richard.

``May I come in, Margaret?''

``Yes! Come in. Come in!''

It was well that Trotty knew him before he spoke; for with anydoubt remaining on his mind, the harsh discordant voice would havepersuaded him that it was not Richard but some other man.

There were but two chairs in the room. She gave himhers, and stood at some short distance from him, waiting to hear whathe had to say.

He sat, however, staring vacantly at the floor; with a lustrelessand stupid smile. A spectacle of such deep degradation, of such abjecthopelessness, of such a miserable downfall, that she put her handsbefore her face and turned away, lest he should see how much it movedher. .

Roused by the rustling of her dress, or some such trifling sound,he lifted his head, and began to speak as if there had been no pausesince he entered.

``Still at work, Margaret? You work late.''

``I generally do.''

``And early?''

``And early.''

``So she said. She said you never tired; or never owned that youtired. Not all the time you lived together. Not even when you fainted,between work and fasting. But I told you that, the last time I came.''

``You did,'' she answered. ``And I implored you to tell menothing more; and you made me a solemn promise, Richard, that younever would.''

``A solemn promise,'' herepeated, with a drivelling laugh and vacant stare. ``A solemnpromise. To be sure. A solemn promise!'' Awakening, as it were, after a time; in the same manner as before; he said with suddenanimation:

``How can I help it, Margaret? What am I to do? She has been tome again!''

``Again!'' cried Meg, clasping her hands. ``0, does shethink of me so often! Has she been again!''

``Twenty times again,'' said Richard. ``Margaret, she haunts me. She comes behind me in the street, and thrusts it in myhand. I hear her foot upon the ashes when I'm at my work (ha, ha! thatan't often), and before I can turn my head, her voice is in my ear, saying, &onq;Richard, don't look round. For Heaven's love, give herthis!&cnq; She brings it where I live; she sends it in letters; shetaps at the window and lays it on the sill. What can I do? Look atit!''

He held out in his hand a little purse, and chinked the money itenclosed.

``Hide it,'' said Meg. ``Hide it! When she comes again,tell her, Richard, that I love her in my soul. That I neverlie down to sleep, but I bless her, and pray for her. That, in mysolitary work, I never cease to have her in my thoughts. That she iswith me, night and day. That if I died to-morrow, I would rememberher with my last breath. But, that I cannot look upon it!''

He slowly recalled his hand, and crushing the purse together, saidwith a kind of drowsy thoughtfulness:

``I told her so. I told her so, as plain as words could speak.I've taken this gift back and left it at her door, a dozen times sincethen. But when she came at last, and stood before me, face to face,what could I do?''

``You saw her!'' exclaimed Meg. ``You saw her! Oh Lilian,my sweet girl! Oh, Lilian, Lilian!''

``I saw her,'' he went on to say, not answering, but engagedin the same slow pursuit of his own thoughts. ``There she stood:trembling! &onq;How does she look, Richard? Does she ever speak of me?Is she thinner? My old place at the table: what's in my old place?And the frame she taught me our old work on -- has sheburnt it, Richard!&cnq; There she was. I heard her say it.''

Meg checked her sobs, and with the tears streaming from her eyes,bent over him to listen. Not to lose a breath.

With his arms resting on his knees; and stooping forward in hischair, as if what he said were written on the ground in some halflegible character, which it was his occupation to decipher andconnect; he went on.

`` &onq;Richard, I have fallen very low; and you may guess howmuch I have suffered in having this sent back, when I can bear tobring it in my hand to you. But you loved her once, even in my memory,dearly. Others stepped in between you; fears, and jealousies, anddoubts, and vanities, estranged you from her; but you did love her,even in my memory!&cnq; I suppose I did,'' he said, interruptinghimself for a moment. ``I did! That's neither here nor there.&onq;O Richard, if you ever did: if you have any memory for what is gone and lost, take it to her once more. Once more! Tell her how Ibegged and prayed. Tell her how I laid my head upon yourshoulder, where her own head might have lain, and was so humble toyou, Richard. Tell her that you looked into my face, and saw thebeauty which she used to praise, all gone: all gone: and in its place,a poor, wan, hollow cheek, that she would weep to see. Tell her everything, and take it back and she will not refuse again. She willnot have the heart!&cnq;''

So he sat musing, and repeating the last words, until he wokeagain, and rose.

``You won't take it, Margaret?''

She shook her head, and motioned an entreaty to him to leave her.

``Good-night, Margaret.''

``Good-night!''

He turned to look upon her; struck by her sorrow, and perhaps bythe pity for himself which trembled in her voice. It was a quick andrapid action; and for the moment some flash of his old bearing kindledin his form. In the next he went as he had come. Nor did this glimmerof a quenched fire seem to light him to a quicker sense of hisdebasement.

In any mood, in any grief, in any torture ofthe mind or body, Meg's work must be done. She sat down to her task,and plied it. Night, midnight. Still she worked.

She had a meagre fire, the night being very cold; and rose atintervals to mend it. The Chimes rang half-past twelve while she wasthus engaged; and when they ceased she heard a gentle knocking at the door. Before she could so much as wonder who was there, at thatunusual hour, it opened.

Oh Youth and Beauty, happy as ye should be, look at this! Oh Youthand Beauty, blest and blessing all within your reach, and working outthe ends of your Beneficent Creator, look at this!

She saw the entering figure; screamed its name; cried``Lilian!''

It was swift, and fell upon its knees before her: clinging to herdress.

``Up, dear! Up! Lilian! My own dearest!''

``Never more, Meg; never more! Here! Here! Close to you, holdingto you, feeling your dear breath upon my face! ''

``Sweet Lilian! Darling Lilian! Child of my heart -- nomother's love can be more tender -- lay your head upon mybreast!''

``Never more, Meg. Never more! When I first looked into yourface, you knelt before me. On my knees before you, let me die. Let itbe here!''

``You have come back. My Treasure! We will live together, worktogether, hope together, die together!''

``Ah! Kiss my lips, Meg; fold your arms about me; press me toyour bosom; look kindly on me; but don't raise me. Let it be here. Letme see the last of your dear face upon my knees!''

Oh Youth and Beauty, happy as ye should be, look at this! Oh Youthand Beauty, working out the ends of your Beneficent Creator, look atthis!

``Forgive me, Meg! So dear, so dear! Forgivo me! I know you do,I see you do, but say so, Meg!''

She said so, with her lips on Lilian's cheek. And with her armstwined round -- she knew it now -- a broken heart.

``His blessing on you, dearest love. Kiss me once more! He suffered her to sit beside His feet, and dry them with herhair. O Meg, what Mercy and Compassion!''

As she died, the Spirit of the child returning, innocent andradiant, touched the old man with its hand, and beckoned him away.