STROLLING PLAYERS.

A HARMONY OF CONTRASTS.

BY CHARLOTTE M. YONGE AND CHRISTABEL R. COLERIDGE.

'It takes all sorts to make a world.'

CHAPTER XXXV.

THE ORCHARD WALLS ARE HIGH AND HARD TO CLIMB.

DURING Agnes's visit, Lewis and Selva had been winding up their affairs at Clarebridge, and they met each other with, 'That's done,' on either side.

'Poor little Selva, how tired she looks!' exclaimed Lewis. 'I wonder which had the worst of it!'

'Whoever did not end with what Rupert calls a negative quantity,' said Selva; 'and I am happy to say that I have threepence halfpenny to the good, out of what you gave me for housekeeping. Oh! how that excellent Mrs. Rebekah did hope to find no end of breakages by that there limb of a boy! Oh, yes, Quakeress as she is, she was profane enough for that! I believe her real desire was to find enough plates broken to be able to insist on our buying a new dinner set! And to see her face, when nothing turned out to have been broken except one tumbler, into which Aunt Nan poured boiling water one day when she saw the Major coming, and was trying to look indifferent, and that of course was replaced! But I say, Lewis, if we go on, let it be in the yellow van! No more Quaking Cottages for me!' 'We are not very likely to go on at all except for sport-free gratis for nothing at all,' said Lewis.

"What? It hasn't answered?'

'Thanks to the Raynham and Rotherwood business, we clear it by what do you think? Just six pounds seven and elevenpence halfpenny.'

'Not exactly enough to keep Rupert at Oxford,' said Selva, laughing; 'but he has got a scholarship, that does not so much matter! And if the shipping business is reviving, we shall do.' 'Aye, the cobbler must stick to his last,' said Lewis, sighing. 'And I shan't be hunted away from my bonny boy!' said Selva, as that youth began pulling down her hair. So after all, what has come of it has just been Aunt Nan and the Major, who are out spooning somewhere now, though I thought she would have helped me to encounter the dragon of the Quaking Cottage.' 'If that was the worst of it?' said Lewis, grimly.

'Oh, never mind!

It will be sure to go off.'

'I'm not so certain of that. She is a wilful little mortal, just as likely as not to take the bit between her teeth. And then Ithought at least poor Armytage would get the better of Agnes's tomfoolery!'

'However, he is disposed of, if that was an appointment.'

'Hold hard! Who is this coming up to the gate with Agnes? Has she gone and picked up another parson?'

'Oh, that is only Mr. Merrifield-the man who belongs to Rigg!' said Selva.

Selva's 'only' turned out to be misplaced, when Agnes, in the little upstair room, confided her perfect happiness in the honour that had been done to her, and her dread of not being worthy.

'So that was at the bottom of it all!' said Selva. That was why you were so set against both the other poor young men ! Dear me, I'm afraid Lewis won't like it!'

Not at first, but he will in time. Selva, dear, you'll help me.'

'I'll do anything to see you look as you did when you came in,' said Selva, kissing her. Just another creature from the doleful faced thing you've been all along.'

'Oh, I hope I haven't been so horrid!'

'Not horrid, my darling, only you went in for tragedy instead of comedy, with that grave oval face of yours,' and Selva endeavoured an imitation, over which they were both laughing heartily, when invaded by Juliet, not at all surprised but sympathising.

Lewis was certainly not gratified. He had not been over gracious to David Merrifield, but as he said, his sister must please herself, and women were past him.

'And you made such a prudent marriage yourself,' observed Selva, demurely.

'Didn't I? Where's the other woman who would have

saved threepence halfpenny out of the Quaking Cottage!' replied Lewis, while David and Agnes were exchanging a hurried farewell at the front door, leaving further matters to be arranged when father and Aunt Marion had been informed. And as they parted, the Major and Miss Anne arrived at the gate and opened their eyes.

'What will Marion say?'

It was in everyone's mind, as the party travelled homeward— some with a sense of failure, others half-exulting, half-anxious. When they arrived at the Wharf house, there was an outpour, but of unspoken trivialities and welcomes expended on little Lewis, with boasts of his newest achievements in the direction of teeth, words, and steps.

It was not till the two aunts were in those rooms of their own which opened into each other that Miss Dorset put her hand on her sister's shoulder, and said, 'What is it, my Nancy?' Then as Anne threw herself on her breast, hid her face and cried, 'Is it the Major?'

'Oh, Minnie, isn't it too bad of me! Can you spare me?' 'I can do anything that is for your happiness, my dear little sister.'

For so Anne still was to Marion.

'But how, after all these years, did he come to think of it?' went on Miss Dorset.

'We saw so much more of one another, and I came to know how good and dear and unselfish he is,' said Anne; and he has had such a sad solitary life! I should like to make it nice for him if-if only you, Minnie.'

Nonsense. Don't you see what a relief it is to me, to have you off my mind, you silly girl, and not expect to leave you lonely. Besides, you are not going out of reach, I suppose?' 'Oh, no, no!'

'And I suppose the children will all stay on with me, so I shall not be lonely. Eh-have you all been getting into mischief?' 'Oh, Minnie, you have a great deal more to hear!'

Come, you may as well prepare me. It is no such good luck as poor Ernley, I fear; not that young curate, surely———'

'Not that. He is disposed of to a female doctor; but his cousin, not a curate I believe, but not much better off, though a really good sensible-looking man, rather noted, and sure to get And Agnes, poor child, is quite a different creature.' 'I hope she behaved well to Ernley.'

on.

'Quite. No one can accuse her of encouraging him. And we think that dear Bryan-the Major-I mean, is sure he sees his way to being consoled. So you must be as kind to Agnes as you are to me, dear Marion, and help her with Lewis.'

So Aunt Marion was, being still kept in blissful ignorance of the other mine that was to be sprung upon her; and indeed her kind heart could not help welcoming the bright joyous looks of the two. Agnes had not worn so blithe an air since her father's death, and as to Anne, it was most amusing and half-provoking to see her and 'dear Bryan,' whose affection was so much more demonstrative than that of young lovers, and hers, though shyer, quite as absorbing, so that it was decided that, if they were to return to the category of rational beings they had better be married after Christmas, as soon as a house could be got ready for them.

Lewis had his mauvais quart d'heure with Mr. Buckley, and a still worse one with the mother. It was not pleasant to be considered as the corrupter of innocence, and the poor lady was only slightly moved towards forgiveness by Selva, who, with tears of contrition, declared the loss of George to be her own fault for insisting on keeping her child with her, and making him sleep in lodgings. She mentioned how Lewis had protested, and described his vain endeavours and severe sufferings. There might be considerable exaggeration, but good little Selva believed herself to be speaking the simple truth, and softened the mother considerably, pointing out that Mr. Burnet had discovered him, and thus prevented the scandal of an attempt to find him through the police; a proceeding from which their feelings shrank, and which Lewis was sure would only have embittered things. Mr. Buckley could not well quarrel with him, when they were working and consulting together all day, for though the bank affairs were wound up, the shipping agency was reviving. The strike at the rival harbour was indeed over, but there were conveniences at Ousehaven which the ship-owners had discovered, and were not disposed to quit, so that the men who had been dismissed were constantly coming in to beg for employment, and each case required private judgment and consultation. So the stern punctilious 'Sir Lewis' began to melt into the friendly Willingham, or even the Lewis of his boyhood, and though the father's heart was sore, Lewis found himself viewed as sympathiser, not as betrayer. Nobody took much heed of Juliet, in all this rush of events.

Nobody talked much of

Clarebridge or of Clarence Burnet, and the only news that came of him was a chance mention in a letter from Alaric to David about arrangements for Randall, saying that his cousin had gone back to London, being imperatively needed there, though he was still lame, and by no means as strong yet, as could be wished.

Juliet did not talk about her theatrical experiences any more than did the rest, instead, she thought about them. She went on with the exercises that Clarence had suggested to her; she studied various famous parts, and she read sundry books, also brought to her notice by Clarence. It was surprising how much they had contrived to talk about, and Juliet, who had never read anything of her own accord but plays and a few novels, began to feel her mind grow; she also taught Dolph French, and lent him books to read; Mr. Burnet he said, had told him to attend to his general education. And she made up her mind as to her own intentions, and all the time, while she exercised her voice, read Browning, and corrected Dolph's accent, she wondered if Clarence was strong again, if the rehearsals were going on well, if-life seemed one great 'if' to her just then.

As time went on, her gravity and the absence of her exuberant chatter began to strike Miss Dorset, and, one cold foggy afternoon, towards the end of November, finding herself alone with the girl, in the gathering dusk, she said—

'Jetty, my dear, I have hardly heard anything about your experiences in Clarebridge.'

'No, Aunt Minnie, I don't think you have,' said Juliet, starting a little.

'Did you find that the charm of the thing lasted? enjoy your success?'

Did you

'I was very glad to find that I was likely to succeed,' said Juliet.

For you see, Even without

'I'm afraid you find coming home a little flat. my dear, it was a sort of thing that couldn't last. all that has come of it, you couldn't have kept it up.' 'I never thought it would last long, Aunt Minnie.' 'And so, Jetty, I hope you'll be able to settle down when all the excitement is over. After the wedding, we must begin again. I should be quite willing if you and Lewis like to get up a little home acting for our amusement, and I hear the Danes have something on hand. You will enjoy helping.'

'Aunt Marion,' said Juliet, 'I may as well tell you now, that I have not given up acting, I mean to study for the stage; I know