thomas à kempis was right in saying that next morning would be a sad one—not on account of previous merriment; but, as i drove home alone, the separation from father letheby affected me keenly. he had, to use a homely phrase, grown into my heart. analyzing my own feelings, as i jogged along the country road, i found that it was not his attractive and polished manners, nor his splendid abilities, nor his sociability that had impressed me, but his open, manly character, forever bending to the weak, and scorning everything dishonorable. it was quite true that he "wore the white flower of a blameless life"; but that is expected and found in every priest; it was something else,—his manliness, his truth, that made him

"—my own ideal knight,

who reverenced his conscience as his king,

whose glory was redressing human wrongs;

who spake no slander, no, nor listened to it.

... we have lost him; he is gone;

we know him now; all narrow jealousies

are silent; and we see him as he moved,

how modest, kindly, all-accomplished, wise,

with what sublime repression of himself,

and in what limits, and how tenderly!"

my poor boy! my poor boy! i thought he would be over me in my last hour to hear my last confession, and place the sacred oils on my old limbs, and compose me decently for my grave; but it was not to be. vale, vale, longum vale!

there was a letter from the bishop, and a large brown parcel before me when i reached my home. i opened the letter first. it ran thus:—

my dear father dan:—the prebendary stall, vacated by the death of the late canon jones, i now have much pleasure in offering for your acceptance. i suppose, if the το πρεπον always had force in this world, you would have been canon for the last twenty or thirty years; but at least it is my privilege now to make compensation; and i sincerely hope i may have the benefit of your wise counsel in the meetings of the cathedral chapter. it will also give you a chance of seeing sometimes your young friend, whom i have so suddenly removed; and this will weigh with you in accepting an honor which, if it has come tardily, may it be your privilege to wear for many years

i am, my dear father dan,

yours in christ,

——

"kind, my lord, always kind and thoughtful," i murmured.

then i cut the strings of the parcel. it contained the rochet, mozzetta, and biretta of a canon, and was a present from some excellent franciscan nuns, to whom i had been formerly chaplain, and who were charitable enough not to have forgotten me. so there they were at last, the dream of half a lifetime. god help us! what children we are! old and young, it's all the same. i suppose that is why god so loves us.

i took up the dainty purpled and ermined mozzetta. it was soft, and beautiful, and fluffy. i could fold the entire rochet in the palms of my hands, the lace work was so fine and exquisite. i put them down with a sigh. my mind was fully made up.

hannah came in, and took in the situation at a glance.

"did he give 'em to ye at last?"

"he did, hannah. how do you like them?"

"'twas time for him! lor', they're beautiful!"

"hannah," i said, "have you any camphor or lavender in the house?"

she looked at me suspiciously.

"i have," she said. "what for? aren't you going to wear them?"

"they are not intended to form the everyday walking-suit of a country parish priest," i replied. "they must be carefully put by for the present."

i took my hat and strolled down to see alice. after telling her all the news, and father letheby's triumphs, i said:—

"the bishop wants me to change my name, too!"

"you are not going?" she said in alarm.

"no; but his lordship thinks i have been called father dan long enough; he wants me now to be known as the very rev. canon hanrahan."

"it's like as if you were going away to a strange country," she said.

"do you think the people will take kindly to it?" i said.

"no! no! no!" she cried, shaking her head; "you will be father dan and daddy dan to the end."

"so be it!" i replied.

i returned home, and just before dinner i penned two letters—one to my good nuns, thanking them for their kindness and generosity; the other to the bishop, thanking his lordship ex imo corde also, but declining the honor. i was too old, et detur digniori. then i got my camphor and lavender, and laid the fragrant powder between the folds of the mozzetta. and then i took a sheet of paper and wrote:—

to the

very reverend edward canon letheby, b.a., p.p.,

a gift from the grave

of his old friend and pastor,

the rev. daniel hanrahan, p.p.,

more affectionately and familiarly known as

"daddy dan."

then the old temptation came back to wind up with a lecture or quotation. i ransacked all my classics, and met with many a wise and pithy saying, but not one pleased me. i was about to give up the search in despair, when, taking up a certain book, my eye caught a familiar red pencil-mark. "eureka!" i cried, and i wrote in large letters, beneath the above:—

"amico, io vivendo cercava conforto

nel monte parnasso;

tu, meglio consigliato, cercalo

nel calvario."i placed this last testament in the folds of the lace, tied the parcel carefully, carefully put it away, and, after the untasted dinner had been removed, i lowered the lamp-flame, and sat, god only knows how lonely! as i had sat twelve months before, in my arm-chair, listening for the patter of the horse's hoofs, and the knock at the door, and the sounds of alighting, that were to mark the advent of my new curate.