It is called--rather prettily, I think--'a love child' and the nicer the grandparents are, the better they treat it.

Mrs.Gracey, the wife of our rector at Mowbray Wells told me a few days ago that she and her husband were quite in despair over the excited, almost lawless, holiday air of the village girls.

There are so many young men about and uniforms have what she calls 'such a dreadful effect.' Giddy and unreliable young women are wandering about the lanes and fields with stranger sweethearts at all hours.

Even girls who have been good Sunday-school scholars are becoming insubordinate.

She did not in the least mean to be improperly humorous--in fact she was quite tragic when she said that the rector felt that he ought to marry, on the spot, every rambling couple he met.