INTERNATIONAL PRESS ASSOCIATION. CHAPTER VII. R. LORRAINE was now long past the great climaterie, and breaking last; indeed, so infirm had he become that he had more than once thought of re tiring from the ministry altogeth er. Though his body • was frail, however, his intellect was as bright as ever, and when Marjorie entered the * ' study he was busily engaged in read ing one of his favorite books. ■ r He looked up with his kindly smile as his foster-daughter appeared. “Is it you, my bairn?” he said, as he came over and kissed her. “Wel come home again! Though you have ^ been scarcely a week away, I have -I missed you sorely, and have been counting the days till your return.” For some months past, I should now explain, Marjorie had been -accustomed to stay at a ladies’ school in the neigh boring town from Monday till Friday of every week, returning each Friday afternoon, and remaining till the fol lowing Monday. This arrangement had been found necessary, as it was im possible for the girl to complete her simple education at home, and as the distance was too great for her to go to an-1 fro daily without inconvenience. “And what news have you got from the town?” continued the minister, as Marjorie, holding his hand in hers, sank into a chair at his side. “How is Mis3 Carruthers? and how do you get along with your studies?” “Miss Carruthers sends her compli ments, and as she is called away to Edinburgh to see her sick sister I am to bide at home for a week. A whole week, Mr. Lorraine, and in May-time! Oh, I am so glad!” “So am I, jny bairn,” said the min ister, “A week’s rest will do me good, too, I hope, for I have been far from well since you went away. I had one of my old attacks on Tuesday, and have been obliged to keep in ine house.” “You will be better now,” said Mar jorie. “I will nurse you!” “Ay, ay; and the sight of your face nnd the sound of your voice will do me more good than the doctor. By the k way, my bairn, I had one here today * Inquiring after you, and she will be .( here again this evening.” “I know! Miss Hetherington, of the Castle?” “Yes, Miss Hetherington. It is strange, my bairn, how much interest 1he good lady takes in you—she who cares so little for any other living thing; and yet, after all, it is not strange, for my Marjorie is a favorite With high and low.” The girl’s face grew troubled as she answered: “I hope, Mr. Lorraine, she won’t bo asking me up to the Castle; I feel so lonely there, and she—she frightens me sometimes! She has such strange ways, and the house is an awful place.” “Well, well, you must be careful not to offend her, for she is a true friend." "I know she is very rich and good, too. .but for all that I cannot bear to be alone in her company. I wonder why she likes to have me! She sits in her arm-chair looking at me for hours to gether, tiil sometimes I feel as if I could scream out and run away!” c. “She is a strange woman,” said the minister, thoughtfully; “but you have no reason to fear her. She takes a great interest in you, and in all that concerns you.” “I know that, but—” "Her eccentricities are only put on, I think, to conceal a heart that is truly kindly. You must try. to humor her, my bairn. Not that I would have you shape your conduct toward her by any sordid hope of future gain; no, no, that would be unworthy; but it is well, after all to have so powerful a friend, should anything happen to me.” "Oh, don’t speak like that!” ex claimed Marjorie, her eyes filling with tears. “I cannot bear it.” Solomon here interrupted the con versation by bringing in the tea. Marjorie took off her hat and shawl, and, sitting at the table, began to pour out the tea, while Mr. Lorraine, forget ting his recent train of thought, ques tioned her anew about her doings in the town. Thus far they chatted cheer fully together and shared the simple meal. “And how about the French, Mar jorie?” asked Mr. Lorraine presently. “Ard you coming on?” “Very slowly,” was her reply. “I find it hard to pronounce, and the verbs are a dreadful trouble—and the gen ders. It’s so hard to tell whether a thing is masculine or feminine, and I wonder how the French folks them selves can tell.. I’m afraid I’ll never learn the French rightly.” “I could never master it myself, though, after all, maybe, I never fairly tried; it’s a queer kind of tongue, like the chirping of birds. I’m thinking. What like is your teacher?” “Monsieur Caussidiere? A handsome gentleman, with black hair and black eyes.” “A young man, Marjorie?” “Not old, but very grave and sad as if he had had much .trouble; and I think he has, for he is an exile and