The door between the two rooms had been left ajar, and Mrs. Finchley, hearing her veracity impugned, emphatically exclaimed from the dining-room— "Truth I've spoken, and true it is, Mrs. Nugent, as becomes a member of a Christian Church these forty year; and fifty year girl and woman in old Mr. Nugent's service, and never had a harsh word until this hour! Though I say it, as ought not to say it!" Mrs. Finchley blew her nose. rassed, then said to Nugent Gertrude looked embar "The poor woman makes a mistake. There's no crucifix there. She mistakes. Send her to bed, dear.” Something in Nugent's expression of countenance caught Gertrude's eye, which she did not like. It denoted a transient feeling of incredulity. In fact, the idea would start up in his mind though he resisted it-then, why would you not let me into the boudoir just now? "Oh! Oliver, what do you mean? Can you mistrust me?" exclaimed Gertrude. "Here, take the candle, and come to the boudoir at once. Judge for yourself." So saying, she seized his arm, and drew him out of the room. Can you you show Have you any "My dear," answered Nugent, "I believe you. suppose I would doubt your word? But why did so much dislike to my entering your room? thing there you are doubtful I should like?" "Come with me!" exclaimed Gertrude. have no crucifix. The old woman is ignorant. The room was in a dreadful mess, as I was changing the books. That was all." "You will see I They went upstairs, and heard behind them another of Mrs. Finchley's sepulchral groans, followed as before by an explosion of coughing. Gertrude had a slight misgiving as she threw open her boudoir, but it was too late to draw back. The room was certainly in disorder; of that there was no doubt. All Nugent's little arrangements had been altered. Of course this was nothing very extraordinary. Ladies have a right to arrange their own sitting-room as they think best. But he was nevertheless somewhat disturbed at what he saw. The theological works he had ranged so neatly in a convenient part of the bookshelves had been summarily ejected. Some of them high up out of reach, evidently intended for ornament rather than use. Some of them altogether missing. The remainder had been flung into the coal-box with apparent contempt. "I have been altering the arrangement of the books," Gertrude hastened to say, "but had not time to finish before dinner." "So I see," said Nugent, drily, as his eye wandered towards the coal-box. "Oh! my maid has been using the coal-box to carry the books in. We placed plenty of old newspaper to keep them clean. It answered very well." "But pray, where are you moving the books to?" "To the spare bedroom, dear, in the bookcase with the glass doors to it. I had not room for all my books here, so I moved some I found here. I hope you don't mind, dear?" asked Gertrude, looking up into Nugent's face with her eyes again brimming over. "Don't mention it, dear," he answered; "but what has become of the map ?" "What, the Gospel map?" asked Gertrude, colouring; "I thought you would not mind, and I-I-I took it down." "Where is it, then?" persisted Nugent. "Oh! there it is in the corner!" And so saying he picked it up, unrolled it, and found all the light portions indicating the prevalence of Protestant Christianity shaded jet black by a lead-pencil. "What's the meaning of this?" asked Nugent, rather shocked. "Oh, I'm very sorry! It was that tiresome Agatha. She was here with Miss Beverley and Mr. Lovell, and they all abused the map for treating Turks and Roman Catholics alike, and then Agatha scribbled over the white parts to tease me." It was unfortunate at such a juncture. Nugent, however, only said quietly,-" Well, now, what about this crucifix ?" "It's only an ebony cross," answered Gertrude, "it's not a crucifix at all. Here it is, over the mantelpiece." It was certainly only a plain cross, but of unusual size, and doubtless Mrs. Finchley had been profoundly taken aback by it. 66 'Well, dear," continued Gertrude, as her husband stood gazing at it with a rather sorrowful countenance; "well-it's only a cross. Are you not satisfied now, dear?" M "Dearest, I know there was no crucifix here. I know it because said so. But I do not like crosses for ornament, you and to use them for a religious purpose seems to savourmind, I only say to savour-of idolatry." "I thought there was no harm in a cross! of our faith. Why, Agatha has a crucifix!" แ It's a symbol My dear, follow your own judgment and inclination in this matter. I have merely expressed my own feelings. If it had been a crucifix, I should have spoken more strongly." "But what," he suddenly exclaimed, "have we here? An engraving of the 'Ascension of the Virgin!' This is really wrong, dearest Gertrude. A representation of a superstitious fiction hanging up in my house I cannot suffer! I cannot, dearest, indeed I cannot!" He spoke with warmth; and Gertrude, worn out by the fatigue and excitement of the evening, yielded to a sudden impulse, and more, we fear, in anger than in a spirit of obedience, snatched the print from the wall, and tore it into a dozen pieces. She then, before Nugent could stop her, seized the cross, and was about to fling it out of the window, when he gently detained her with "My dear child, I beg your pardon for vexing you so. It is all my fault. Here, I will take the cross and give it to Lovell. Do not fling it away." Gertrude said nothing; but, sinking into a chair, burst into tears. Nugent sat down beside her, and after a time she brushed away her tears, and they were once more friends. The next morning Gertrude found that the books she had been employed the day before in shifting were all carefully removed from the boudoir, and stowed away in the bookcase in the spare room. The odious map, too, had disappeared, and she felt relieved and gratified; but her pleasure was impaired by a little note placed upon her boudoir table' by Nugent just before he started on his rounds for the day "DARLING GERTRUDE,-You will see that I have anticipated your wishes relative to the books. You shall never see them again unless you wish to do so of your own free-will; for, earnestly as I desire and pray you may appreciate works of this character, and much as I have laboured to select for you those I thought peculiarly likely to suit you, I would not on any account force them upon you. I hope your eyes may be opened in due time, and that you may learn to put away childish things, which I am sure in your heart you despise. "Believe me to be, till death, your affectionate husband, "OLIVER NUGENT. "P.S.-Let me draw your attention, dearest, to Ephesians v. 22, 23." "Oh, this is dreadfully solemn !" exclaimed poor Gertrude, as the note dropped from her hand. Here there came a sharp knock at the door. It was Mrs. Finchley, anxious to know about dinner. She looked uncommonly gratified and complacent. She had seen Nugent wrap up the cross in paper, and afterwards despatch it to the parsonage. She had triumphed, as she supposed, over the young misguided wife, and was highly elated with the victory. She endeavoured to modify her air of triumph by a graciousness of demeanour that rather aggravated than diminished the mischief; and Gertrude could not but feel some natural indignation when the old lady glanced to the mantelpiece where the cross so lately stood, and then, with a distortion of countenance meant for a smile, approached her mistress, and inquired whether she wouldn't like something dainty and out of the common for dinner to-day, the weather being so uncommon hot? Gertrude's abrupt reply was simply "Oh, Mrs. Finchley, is that you? My maid Lucy will order dinner. Leave the room." She then sat down to her writing-table, and wrote as follows: "MY DEAREST OLIVER,—I am very much vexed at having given you annoyance, but I really did not know there was any harm in a plain cross. It never entered my head I should be suspected of any leaning to Popery! The reason I wished you not to see the boudoir was that the books you so kindly gave me were scattered about, and I feared it looked as if I did not value them. If my arrangements had been completed you would not have thought them amiss. Mamma made me promise I would put the Waverley Novels, which she gave me, in my boudoir, and there was not room without removing some of the books I found there. Again I say I am very sorry, and hope to please you better, and not to become an excruciating torment to you, as I fear I am beginning to be. "P.S.-I must say I think Mrs. Finchley's behaviour most presumptuous, not to say insolent.” They met that day at dinner, and passed a tolerably pleasant evening, no allusion being made to the boudoir, or the books, or the notes that had passed between them. Nevertheless, next day another little note was placed on Gertrude's table to this effect: "MY OWN GERTRUDE,-Do not for a moment imagine that I am displeased with you. But another time be open with me. There is nothing so miserable as only a half-confidence between man and wife. That you have any conscious leaning towards the dark, impurities of apostate Rome I do not believe. But it is wise, love, to draw the line plainly and firmly. Accustom yourself to regard the doctrines of that Church with detestation, and its unhappy victims with cautious repugnance. I have put a few marks in Dr. Going's last new work, The Whispers of the Zodiac, where you will find some passages bearing on this question. Also in an article of the Quarterly Controversial Review, entitled Rome Pagan, and Rome Papal. Which was which ?' However, I will not dwell on this matter further. In good time we shall understand each other better. And now believe me to be ever your affectionate friend and husband, "O. N." CHAPTER XV. COPPICE-ON-SHINGLE. THE casual visitor at the fashionable watering-place of Coppice-on-Shingle, when fatigued with the glare and heat of the esplanade, may turn his steps with advantage towards the suburbs of the town. Here in a street composed of inferior shops and second-rate lodging-houses adjoining some of those squalid lanes and alleys to which, with all our wealth and boasted civilization, we consign the vast majority of the poorer classes |