.

MADONNA'S MOTHER.
It is a quarter to twelve by the hall clock at the Rectory, and one of the finest autumn mornings of the whole season.

Vance, Doctor Joyce's middle-aged man servant, or "Bishop" Vance, as the small wits of Rubbleford call him, in allusion to his sleek and solemn appearance, his respectable manner, his clerical cravat, and his speckless black garments, is placing the cake and cowslip wine on the dining-table, with as much formality and precision as if his master expected an archbishop to lunch, instead of a clown's wife and a little child of ten years old.
It is quite a sight to see Vance retiring and looking at the general effect of each knife and fork as he lays it down; or solemnly strutting about the room, with a spotless napkin waving gently in his hand; or patronisingly confronting the pretty housemaid at the door, and taking plates and dishes from her with the air of a kitchen Sultan who can never afford to lose his dignity for a moment in the presence of the female slaves.
The dining-room window opens into the Rectory garden.

The morning shadows cast by the noble old elm-trees that grow all round, are fading from the bright lawn.

The rich flower-beds gleam like beds of jewels in the radiant sunshine.