and that the other might be a confirmed invalid, disinherited them, and left his estate to a natural son with a strict proviso against his marrying either of his cousins.  In that case the property was to go to a benevolent institution named.  Jane Melville applied for the situation of housekeeper to this institution at 30 pounds a year, but was refused because she was too young and inexperienced.  After all sorts of disappointments she took a situation to go out to Australia, and her sister accompanied her as a lady’s maid in the same family.  You may wonder how I brought in proportional representation, but I managed it.  I think, on the whole, it is a stronger book than either of the others.  The volume has two interesting associations, one which connects it with Mrs. Oliphant.  My friend Mrs. Graham knew I had sent it to England for publication, and when she read the anonymous “Doctor’s Family” she was sure it was mine, and was delighted with it.  When I read of the brave Australian girl Nettie, taking on herself the burden of the flabby sister and her worthless husband and their children, I wished that I had written such a capital story.  In a subsequent tale of Mrs. Oliphant’s, “In Trust,” a father disinherits the elder girl from a fear of an unworthy marriage, but he leaves a letter to be opened when Rosy is 21, which—­should Anne not marry Cosmo Douglas—­restores her to her own mother’s fortune, which was in his power.  There was no saving clause in my book.  The nieces were left only 20 pounds a year each.  Mr. Williams did not think “Uphill Work” as good as “Tender and True,” and it was hung up till circumstances most unexpectedly brought me to England, and I tried Bentley, and found that his reader approved, but wished me to change the name, as the first critic would say it was uphill work to read it.  Then let it be “Mr. Haliburton’s Will.”  That would clash with “Mrs Haliburton’s Troubles.”  So the name was changed to Hogarth, and the title became “Mr. Hogarth’s Will.”  It was well reviewed, and I got 35 pounds as my half-share of the profits on a three-volume edition, besides 50 pounds from The Telegraph.  But the book was to have more effect in unexpected quarters than I could imagine.  When staying with my aunts in Scotland I had a letter from Mr. Edward Wilson’s secretary, saying that he had wished to write an article for The Fortnightly on “The Representation of Classes,” which was his cure for the excesses of democracy; but, as he could not see, and his doctor had forbidden him even to dictate, he had reluctantly abandoned the idea.  He had, however, heard that I was in Scotland, and, though my idea was different from his, he believed that I could write the article from some letters reprinted from The Argus and a few hints from himself, and that I could adapt them to English conditions.  I gladly undertook the work, and satisfied Mr. Wilson.  Just before I left for Australia I went to Mr. Wilson’s, and we went through the proofs together.  Mr. Wilson, being