A FEW years after my father's death the old minister of our parish died, and a preacher, who had been tutor in the patron's family, came to us in his place. The new minister was a strong, athletic, handsome, dark man, of perhaps five-and-thirty, with an aspect very severe, stern, and knotty in the pulpit, but out of it, as we soon had occasion to see, capable of being considerably softened. When he spoke with his full voice the effect was harsh; but he had a whispering undertone that was rather mild and engaging; and, when he smiled, a set of fine large white teeth shewed to much advantage beside his close-shaven black beard. There was something of the commanding in the air and manner of this divine, and a great deal of the coarse.

He soon became a great favourite with my aunt. She was charmed with his sermons first, and afterwards with his company; and it was proposed, that he should come over to Blackford three times a-week to give me my lessons, as I was now getting rather too old for the village school. He agreed to this, and Katharine became his pupil also.

He was a good scholar; and, whatever his natural temper might be, he managed it so that we liked him very well as our preceptor. During the winter, he slept much oftener at our house than at the Manse, and, in short, was almost a part of the family. My aunt's black bombazeen made way for a grey gown about this time; and, ere that was quite worn out, she chose to change her name also, and became Mrs Mather.

This event, strange but true, produced at the time no unpleasant feelings in my mind, nor I believe in my cousin’s. The fact of the matter is, that Mr Mather had made himself highly agreeable to us both. He gave us our lessons in a pleasant manner; and often, when we had committed any little offence, he had interfered with my aunt in our behalf.