Mrs. Halliburton's Troubles. Henry Wood

tell me yourself whether there seems any chance now that I shall enter the Church."

      "At present I do not see that there is," confessed Jane.

      "There! Then is it waste of time, or not, my continuing to study for a career which I can never enter upon?"

      "But what else can you do, Robert?" interposed Mrs. Tait. "You cannot idle your time away at home, or be running about the streets all day."

      "No," said Robert, "better stop at school for ever than do that. I want to see the world, mother."

      "You—want—to—see—the—world!" echoed Mrs. Tait, bringing out the words slowly in her astonishment, whilst Jane looked up from her work, and fixed her eyes upon her brother.

      "It's only natural that I should," said Robert, with equanimity. "I have an invitation to go down into Yorkshire."

      "What to do?" cried Mrs. Tait.

      "Oh, lots of things. They keep hunters, and–"

      "Why, you were never on horseback in your life, Robert," laughed Jane. "You would come back with your neck broken."

      "I do wish you'd be quiet, Jane!" returned Robert, reddening. "I am talking to mamma, not to you. Winchcombe has invited me to spend the Christmas holidays with him down at his father's place in Yorkshire. And, mother, I want to go; and I want you to promise that I shall not return to school when the holidays are over. I will do anything else that you choose to put me to. I'll learn to be a man of business, or I'll go into an office, or I'd be apprenticed to a doctor—anything you like, rather than stop at these everlasting school-books. I am sick of them."

      "Robert, you take my breath away!" uttered Mrs. Tait. "I have no interest anywhere. I could not get you into any of these places."

      "I dare say Mr. Halliburton could. He knows lots of people. Jane, you talk to him: he'll do anything for you."

      There ensued, I say, much discussion about

      Robert. But it is not with Robert Tait that our story has to do; and only a few words need be given to him here and there. It appeared to them all that it would be inexpedient for him to continue at school; both with regard to his own wishes and to his prospects. He was allowed to pay the visit with his schoolfellow, and (as he came back with neck unbroken) Mr. Halliburton succeeded in placing him in a large wholesale warehouse. Robert appeared to like it very much at first, and always came home to spend Sunday with them.

      "He may rise in time to be one of the first mercantile men in London," observed Mr. Halliburton to his wife; "one of our merchant-princes, as my uncle used to say by me, if only–"

      "If what? Why do you hesitate?" she asked.

      "If he will only persevere, I was going to say. But, Jane, I fear perseverance is a quality that Robert does not possess."

      Of course all that had to be proved. It lay in the future.

      CHAPTER V.

      MARGARET

      From two to three years passed away, and the Midsummer holidays were approaching. Margaret was expected as usual for them, and Jane, delighted to receive her, went about her glad preparations. Margaret would not return to the school, in which she had been a paid teacher for the last year; but was to enter a family as governess. For one efficient, well-educated, accomplished governess to be met with in those days, scores may be counted now—or who profess to be so; and Margaret Tait, though barely nineteen, anticipated a salary of seventy or eighty guineas a year.

      A warm, bright day in June, that on which Mr. Halliburton went to receive Margaret. The coach brought her to its resting-place, the "Bull and Mouth," in St. Martin's-le-Grand, and Mr. Halliburton reached the inn as St. Paul's clock was striking midday. One minute more, and the coach drove in.

      There she was, inside; a tall, fine girl, with a handsome face: a face full of resolution and energy. Margaret Tait had her good qualities, and she had also her faults: a great one, speaking of the latter, was self-will. She opened the door herself and leaped out before any one could help her, all joy and delight.

      "And what about your boxes, Margaret?" questioned Mr. Halliburton, after a few words of greeting. "Have they come this time or not?"

      Margaret laughed. "Yes, they really have. I have not lost them on the road, as I did at Christmas. You will never forget to tell me of that, I am sure! But it was more the guard's fault than mine."

      A few minutes, and Mr. Halliburton, Margaret, and the boxes were lumbering along in one of the old glass coaches.

      "And now tell me about every one," said Margaret. "How is dear mamma?"

      "She is quite well. We are all well. Jane's famous."

      "And my precious little Willy?"

      "Oh," said Mr. Halliburton, quaintly, "he is a great deal too troublesome for anything to be the matter with him. I tell Jane she will have to begin the whipping system soon."

      "And much Jane will attend to you! Is it a pretty baby?"

      Mr. Halliburton raised his eyebrows. "Jane thinks so. I wonder she has not had its likeness taken."

      "Is it christened?" continued Margaret.

      "It is baptized. Jane would not have the christening until you were at home."

      "And its name?"

      "Jane."

      "What a shame! Jane promised me it should be Margaret. Why did she decide upon her own name?"

      "I decided upon it," said Mr. Halliburton. "Yours can wait until the next, Margaret."

      Margaret laughed. "And how are you getting on?"

      "Very well. I have every hour of the day occupied."

      "I don't think you are looking well," rejoined Margaret. "You look thin and fagged."

      "I am always thin, and mine is a fagging profession. Sometimes I feel terribly weary. But I am pretty well upon the whole, Margaret."

      "Will Francis be at home these holidays?"

      "No. He passes them at a gentleman's house in Norfolk—tutor to his sons. Francis is thoroughly industrious and persevering."

      "A contrast to poor Robert, I suppose?"

      "Well—yes; in that sense."

      "There has been some trouble about Robert, has there not?" asked Margaret, her tone becoming grave. "Did he not get discharged?"

      "He received notice of discharge. But I saw the principals and begged him on again. I would not talk about it to him if I were you, Margaret. He is sensitive upon the point. Robert's intentions are good, but his disposition is fickle. He has grown tired of his work and idles his time away; no house of business will put up with that."

      The coach arrived at Mr. Halliburton's. Margaret rushed out of it, giving no one time to assist her, as she had done out of the other coach at the "Bull and Mouth." There was a great deal of impetuosity in Margaret Tait's character. She was quite a contrast to Jane—as she had just remarked there was a contrast between Francis and Robert upon other points—to sensible, lady-like, self-possessed Jane, who came forward so calmly to greet her, a glad depth of affection in her quiet eyes.

      A boisterous embrace to her mother, a boisterous embrace to Jane, all in haste, and then Margaret caught up a little gentleman of some two years old, or more, who was standing holding on to Jane's dress, his great grey eyes, honest, loving, intelligent as were his mother's, cast up in a broad stare at Margaret.

      "You naughty Willy! Have you forgotten Aunt Margaret? Oh, you darling child! Who's this?"

      She carried the boy up to the end of the room, where stood their old servant Mary, nursing an infant of two months old. The baby had great grey eyes also, and they likewise were bent on noisy Margaret. "Oh, Willy, she is prettier than you! I won't nurse you any more. Mary, I'll shake hands with you presently. I must take that enchanting baby first."

      Dropping discarded Willy upon the ground, snatching the baby from Mary's arms, Margaret kissed its pretty face until she made it cry. Jane came to the rescue.

      "You