Year: 1867

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ing, pitying, loving gaze,and tine
strong hand in which hers lay folded
grasped it until, but for the counter ex.
citement, she must have cried aloud
with pain; but Nelly forgot the pain
when she heard him say that the pres
ent was nothing to the love with which
he loved her; and then he called her his
pet and child, and Nelly's heart sank,
for she remembered what her aunt had
said, and that, after all, he might not
care for her, because of the likeness to
his daughter, and almost involuntarily
the little hand stole up to his shoulder.
Nelly's eyes, swimming in tears, rose to
his, and the sweet voice, tremulOns in
its earnestness, said: 'You are unhap-
DIV, Mr.. Considine, and you have been
so very kind to me. wish l could do
anything to please You. L want to
thank YOU, to show YOU (the hand
dropped and the voice sank into whis-
per, for voices were heard in the hall)
that | really am not such child, but
that / can be wise sometimes; and then,
with a miserable little attempt ut q
smile, Nelly turned away to play her
first part in the act Of hfe-tO feel that
which every woman has felt some time,
that smiles must come to call.


Nelly was young, and nature III \
young, untried heart cannot look long
at bright things without rejecting their
light; so before the night was over Nell
iy was the happiest and gayest there:
ready to accept in good part the incense
offered, and believe the world that had
such bright hours must also have stores
of JOY to come.


At last the guests were gone; all good
nights said, the house dark and silent.
Nelly was in bed, but not asleep; her
face was resting upon the arm round
which the bracelet was clasped. Nelly
was thinking of the grave and sad face
that from time to time during the night
had come in amongst the mirsh and
mesic like q memory Of some lost happi-
ness. She was thinking of what he had
said by the fireside before the Others ar
rived, and so thinking she fell asleep,
and was still sleeping when Mrs. Penn
broke came in on her way down stairs,
and tender happy smile was on the old
lady's face. "She's only child yet,
Mark" she said as she poured out her
husbands coffee. "You remember how
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her, and how you found the new box of
ninepins under her pillow; well, she
has the bracelet on, poor little thing;
and then how | used to vex myself
whenever saw man near her, think
ing they wanted to rob us of our dar-
lingw


But Mrs. Pembroke was wrong, as ell
derly ladies very frequently are when
they begin to account for the actions or
motives of the second generation. Poor
Nelly had said farewell to her child
hood.


Mr.. Considine had gone on circuit the
day after the ball, much, let it be said,
to Mark and Mrs. Pembroke's relief,
both these worthy people being secretly
jealous of this unexpected claimant up
on Nelly's love and exceedingly doubt
ful and perplexed as to the possibility
of keeping a secret.


About fortnight after this Mark told
his wife he thought Nelly was looking
pale. "She's tagged with all this gad-
ding and heat, wife; You must take her
down to the farm. I'll write or tele-
graph to Mr. Brown to get the old home
ready; you and she can run down on
Tuesday; Michael Considine and will
follow on Friday"


Nelly was delighted, and owned her
self tired of dancing and croquet. The
"old Home" was the place of all others
she liked best; rambling farm house,
with an old fashioned garden, where
was a wilderness of flowers, blooming
as no London flowers ever do bloom,
filling the air with perfume, and suffer
ing themselves to be gathered every day
without any visible diminution in beau
ty or fragrance.


The great wide porch was shaded
with jessamine and honeysuckle, and
the old walls were clustered with month
ly roses and vines; under the broad
caves colony of swallows were always
twittering, always stirring about, al
ways in hurry, and always delight
| to watch.


Beyond the garden lay green mea-
dow, at the foot of which ran the mill
stream, damned back to form the pond,
a long, deep, silent pool, draped with
the largest willow trees in the country,
in which lay the biggest trout, and
along the banks of which grew car
pet of bright-eyed forget-me-nots; n
lovely, quiet place was the mill-pool,
the mill-wheel, killed by distance,
waking the silence by soft, slumberous
sound A tavOrite haunt of Nelly's was
the pool; she was there every day, gen.
orally towards 5ening, when the red
lights from the setting sun were CLINT
ing through the trees, throwing strong
ly defined shadows upon the brown
water, and the trout rose lazily to suck
down the unsuspicious flies or moths,
taking their evening meal as it were
under protest.


To be continued ia our merit.