Y Llan

CHAPTER ELEVEN-Continued Monkshollow Farm lay, as the crow flies, only half a mile from Monkswell; though the windings of the lane made it seem far- ther. It bore the came stamp of antiquity and hoary dignity, and the ecclesiastical atmosphere seemed to have lingered here more persistently. One could scarcely ap- proach the old grey building without pic- turing monks in their cowls and habits pacing up and down the stone terrace be- neath the shadow of the ancient yews. There was an old world garden on the south side, where spring flowers bloomed in profusion, and beyond a slope of or- chard had burst into snowy foam of love- liness. The house lay low, and save for a low murmur, the close proximity of the sea would hardly be guessed. There was an ancient fish-pond, long and narrow, spanned by a rustic bridge of ancient date. A rookery bulked black in the woods to the north, which were just beginning to hide the nests in a veil of tender green and golden leaves. Alicia's eyes tcok in these things as the big car slowly and cautiously made approach through tracks never designed for vehicles of such a size or make. And her face took on a look of gentle ecstasy and joy that delighted Roderic's heart to see. Think this looks about right, Sis?" he asked. Roddie, it is like a dream home! I feel as though I had seen it in my dreams. If they will consent—the owners—let us take the whole of the rooms they have t > let for the summer. It shall be our base. We can tour about the west country and farther, if you—if we want to. But let us have this as a kind of home to come back to when we want one. It will gro.v hot later, and the roads will be dusty, and the sea and the woods will call us. It would be good to have a place like this to return to." Things are seldom difficult to arrange when there is a long purse, a title, and a winning personality. Sir Roderic and his widowed sister were honoured guests at Monkshollow. Very soon they found them- selves installed in really charming old- world quarters. The ancient manor-house lent itself to comfortable division between guest rooms and the Jiving or sleeping- w--q roonislo.f its inhabitants. The long corri- dors suggested the monastic life of a yet earlier period, .there was the remnant of a tiny chapel, which delighted Alicia's heart. It had neve.* been degraded to secular uses, and something of the odour of sanctity seemed to cling about it still. When she first entered it a hush fell upon her spirit, and turning to her brother with a lovely smile on her face she whispered: I shall come here often-to pray. I think the veil will fall from my eyes and from my spirit. I shall ask for guidance and help. I am sure that both will be given" Co they took the whole of the guest- rooms for the summer, sent for some per- sonal possessions from their stores laid up at Danecourt, and prepared to live a life quite different from any they had passed before. And here it was that Laurence Darcy came to them upon Roderic's invitation- an invitation which he had accepted in somewhat cryptic terms. Brother and sister had puzzled over the meaning of some of the phrases m his letter, and it was only when sitting out in the dewy garden, with the sounds and scents of the May night about them, that the guest spoke to them of himself and his past. I was brought up within a mile of this place," he said. My old father is still at-Monks-Lyonness Abbey. I have not seen him for twenty years." They looked at him in amazement. Then Roderic said: I thought the old man here was a Canon Conniston." Yes—my father. My name is Laurence Darcy Conniston. My mother was a Daiicy. I inherited some money from a rplation of hexa who made an odd will. I propped my father's name when I leit the old home in f something vt-ry like disgrace. My father av me from op n disgrace; but I was not grateful. I regarded myself as an injured being. The egoism of young manhood is almost sublime! I wanted to see the world. I wanted my own way in every- thing. I suppose I have had it in fuller measure than many can boast. But I doubt if it has done me much good. I have had a good enough time, I suppose. But I'm not pEOud of my recgrd. I've. had my share of the husks. And now Fate—or something else—seems to have called me back to Monks-Lyonn es-s. I did not say I will arise and go to my father.' And yet I find myself almost within a .stone^s throw of his gates." Laurence spoke on slowly, with pauses between his sentences, for nobody spoke. Neither of his listeners well knew what to say. This was an astonishing revela- tion. At last it was Alicia who broke the silence, her voice very soft and persua- sively sweet. But now that you are here-you will surely—go to your father ? "1 suppose I shall. At least the thought is with me. He will hear in time of toy being here. The name Darcy will suggest something. Yes, I must go and see the old man. I am not proud of my record as a son. He would be justified in closing his doors to me. But I am very sure he will not. And I may very well say what that other eon did—' I am not worthy. The eyes of Alicia were bright with the starry light which Laurence loved to see. She did not, however, speak more on the subject, and shortly left the two men alone. o They lit up and smoked a short time in silence, after which Roderic said I think your prescription is answering, Darcy. Row do you think Alicia looking? Better. Y et net altogether as I should like. Is she interestd in the. life of the roads—in seeing new country—new face& new modes of Hfe" In measure, yes. We went the round of numbers of cathedral towns. She is al- ways happy in an atmosphere of ecclesias- tical sanctity, if you know what I mean. That is partly the attraction to her of this place. We want now to be clear of towns, the country draws us both. We shall tour Devon, making headquarters here. But for the moment she seems to want what she calls rest.' She does not explain quite what she means by this. I am not sure that she quite knows. But she loves the stillness of the meadows and this old gar- den, and the hoary walls and the old abbey, which she attends daily for service. Be- yond that she goes very little out from the precincts here. Darcy, you do not think she can be ill, do you?" 111! Good lord, man, what do you mean? U Nothing definite; only I have some- times a kind of uneasy feeling about her —as though she were too much spirit, too little flesh and blood. You know what I mean? I think I can feel it. She is so ethe- real and fragile of aspect. Yet I should not have called her a sick woman. Do you think she broods—over that happening of which it is better not to speak? Does she put it from her as we hoped, or does it dwell with her still?" I do not think she ever forgets. I trust she 'does not brood. But I believe there dwells with her the fear that she has injured me as if that mattered! I can live down any spiteful rumour—and there can be nothing more." "If I could run that rumour to earth I cried Laurence. And sooner or later I will! It is good of you to feel like that. You have not traced it yet? "No, I have not seen Elinor Masham since. She has not written lately. But when I know where she is I shall go and eee her and take her into my confidence. I believe we may work something that way. She had a French maid—I never liked the woman—and you never know how tittle-tattle may get abroad. Elinor might know something—or shrewdly guess. Then Roderic spoke a somewhat plain question. Are you engaged to Miss Masham? I heard that it was so." « We were engaged once. But she decided then not to marry me. We are not en- gaged now; I do not know whether we ever shall be. Her health gives trouble, ^.nd I sometimes think that we are happier as friends than ever we should be as man and wife. I hope never to lose her out of my life. But I do not think that I wish to marry her." H You would not like the charge of a delicate wife, perhaps? n I" I do not know. I am afraid to answer for myself. If I were to love a woman a3 I could love-then no obstacle should stand in my way His dark eyes flashed under the moonlight. Roderic looked at him with some intentness in his glance. Was he thinking of some woman whom he felt that he could passionately love?

CHAPTER XII. PENSTOCK PRIORY. DERMoT-my dear Derry boy—I have been thinking such a lot about you aid MioS Masham since trlie came here to leturn mo tiler's call Do you know, I thi.k I have fallen a little bit in love with hex myself Have you, Joy? Shows your gocd taste, I should say. Anyway, you under- stand how it was with me when I saw her years ago, when she was yoiiiger-when her beauty had not been touched by time or sickness Derry, dear, do you know how I feel about Miss Masham? I think that it is just because you see in her face that she has suffered, and you feel that she knows her youth is passing from her, that it makes your heart go out to her I'm not sure that I should have felt as I do if she I had been strong and gay and proudly young. Do you understand? "Perhaps I do. Do you know you have described her very well as she was, Joy? I Proudly young She !m-,ked as though she were made to win hearts and command men. In those days I felt I just had to worship from -afar-that I should never get what you might call a look in. Of course, it was all right—she and the other man wanted one another, and Darcy was a rattling good fellow and a fine soldier." And yet he could leave her cifter he had won her heart. Derry, I am wonder- ing a great deal how that was. You know how sometimes 6uoh miserable trifles may separate people-little misuniderstandings which ought to be eo easily put right. That is what is on my heart a great deal. I talk to Lois Enderby. She can tell ne very little; but she, too, knows that Mks Masham is unhappy. And that starte me wondering if anything could be done. And I know how I want to help And yet, if helping in one- way were to put a stumbling-block in your pi-th 1 Derry boy—do you understand what I mean ? I think I begin to catch on. You are one of the sort to want to clear away ob- stacles and play fairy godmother to less- favoured mortals as yau ego through life. And you think that perhaps Mks Masham and her quandom love might be brought together and made happy by a wave of some magic wand, if only the fairy knew juet.how to wave it—that oo.? I suppose in a way it is. If they do care for one another it would be beautiful to see them made happy together. Indyet —there is you and your love. Dermot sat suddenly very upright in the deck-chair in which he had been lazily re- clining whilst be and his sister exchanged confidences in one the many garden nooks of Penstock Priory. (To be continued.)

LIFE AND LIBERTY. THE Congress et the Life and Liberty Movement adjourned, owing to the'rail- way strike, from October 1-3, will be held on November 5-7, at the Church House, Westminster. The programme for October holds good for November. CORN AVERAGES. THE figures for 1919 show the quantities and average price of British corn per quarter for the week ending last Saturday :— WHSAT. BARLEY. OATS. s. d. Qra. t. d. Qrs. ». d. Qrs. 1912..82 2 68,256"30 11 142.018.19 9 24.806 1913 ..30 11 f4.,64..28 8 163.S-50..17 9 18.188 1914..86 7 73.306..2H 8193.6.6..i2 4 88, 97 1915..45 9 73,139..42 3 124,9!9..27 1 40.582 1916 ..59 7 76,325..63 10 88,362..81 6 29868 1917 ..71 0 57..529..58 5 77,304..44 5 lft.S(4 18I8..72 6 71,877. 60 3 6g,183..51 6 18,916 1919..73 1 .43.96(3..95 6 117,566..58 10 li!,991 II5IP' Church Congress, Leicester. 0 BARNARDUA'K HOMES I CINEMA AND LANTERN MEETING g in Y.M.C.A. Hall, 21, Lcndcn Rfcad, Leicester. g To-day FRIDAY, 17th October, at 8 p.m. Admission Free* w j ECCLESIASTICAL ART EXHIBITION. Barn ardo Boys will be at work during the if day and evening at the following trades:— I 8 Tailors Carpenters Woodworkers Printers Bootmakers Tinsmiths Basketmakers I. Brushmakers I I sYBHea.oe MHrmnt.ehAaICaat re s.TvdA.dieqs bo n. uHohuayaoHes rE npts ed eaead r2 t ds twqthaBhoue onaf ard At rk Ettyhxe3 Rioe rh.i s u iBNbHtclaihootaAt ci3 mn ok Cn REekosxFinD, Bnhgdi1uiO n rbl8 ieli* dtsttismiho on.e nagB2, ks6E.e aA, xnahSd Nn itbeeiiD pntfniftooeenrry t eW; stCt o aaoluIastp sLhteteewL arns t ad yti, n htPe hLDe oLOnrffM. AdioBceYneeas t, r.innEoag f .rldat.ohn'eds JJu. -¿ ,&'I->o:"L:i.> Jõ.L. "tara¡; i:.a Indian CI*urchJlid Association (THE OFFICIAL ORGAN OF THE INDIAN EPISCOPATE). WE ASK YOUR HELP IMMEDIATELY to assist the BOMISllEO EK6LISH-SP5M6 CBMMUfiiTY IH INDIA In procuring a Sound Education in Church Schools to fit them to hold their o. n in the new conditions. Not Less than £50,000 is asked for BY THE BISHOPS. The Problem is Pressing and the Time is Short. PLEASE SEND A CHEQUE, made out toth Indian Church Aid Ass ciation, to H. P. K. SKIPTON Secy, Indian Oh .reh Aid Assocn., Church House, Wes min ter,S.W. 1 a all ft c IESSBS. lONGMANS fi CI.'S LIST. FROM THEOSOPHY TO CHRISTIAN FAITH. A (kmparison of Christianity. By E.R.IVICNEILE. With a Preface. by the Right Rev. CHARLES GORE, D.D., late Bishop of Oxford. Crown 8o., 4s. 6d. net. THE REDEMPTION OF RELIGION. By ( H ARIxES GARDNER, Author of Visions and Vesture," &c. 8vo., 7s. 6d. not* DOCTRINAL UNITY. Letstg ar* Es qis-irj into the Rules of Interpretation. By NARTHEX. 8vo., 2s. 6d. net. A KINGLY GRAVE IN FRANCE. by the Author of Especially," The Cup of War," &c. With Two Illustrations. Feap. 8vo., 8d. net. "The story of a mother's journey to France to see her son's grave. Written for the guidance of others who may follow, and giving the most practical details, it is at the same time a little Gospel" in its resignation and tender exultation. "-Saturday Review.. MUSINGS ON FAITH AND PRACTICE. by the Right Rev. H..H. iaO^NTCOMERS, D.D., D.C.L., sometime Bishop -of Tasmania, Author of Visions," Life's Journey," &c. Feap. Svo., 3s. 6d. not. (LOKCMANS' I-OCKET LIBRARY.) BENEDICTINE MONACHISM. Studies in benedictino Life and hula. by the Right Rev. CUTHBERT BUTLER, O..s.B., D.Litt., Abbot of Downside Abbey. 8vo., 18s. A most interesting and scholarly book.The Spectator. 1919 ED ) T ION, JVSa PUBLISHED. ANNUAL CHARITIES REGISTER AND DIGEST. being a Classined Register of Charities in or available fur the Metropolis. 8vo. 5s. net. I LONGM NS GREEN & CO., 39, Paternoster Row, London, E.C. 4 OYZRY rim vqk in mr so "The STRATAGEM." Granny knows how to "Mind" the Terrible Twins. At all times when pacification is desirable, frictiofi is imminent, amusement is lacking—and, in fact, whenever it's possible to do so—bring out the Family Tin of Mackintosh's. Anyone's Granny knows how toifee used to be made—and knows its uses. And in Mackintosh's Toffee-treat is contained all the old, art, with more besides; Mackintosh's Tofree-de-Luxe contains heaps and heaps of very good things. You can now readily obtain anywhere Mackintosh's Toffee de Luxe also Mint-de-Luxe, Cafe-de-Luxe and Chocoiate-de-Luxe. Take some home to-day a qlb. Family Tin for preference, so that others may share this toothsome delight. Sold loose by weight and in 4lb. Faiizily Tins. -4 I ;A