Year: 1869

"Aud so you have truly enjoyed thi


month in the country, cousin Give 7"


81 have, indeed, Florence; and th
lonly thing that takes the sting from re


gret at leaving this dear old place, is th


thought that you are to return with me


and that l may try my utmost to max


you enjoy the next month as l hsv


done this


TO introduce me into society, t,


bring me out, ] supposeP said Florence


But don't you think l am too old 70


that sort of a thing !? | have seen TWEEN
lty, cousin Give


Without one season in London, sale


be; without one admirer save tn


clownish young men Of the neighbor


hood--without a single offer of marriage


if mistake not, Floy. 1t is really shock
ing to bury your beauty for so long il
such a remote place as this or


'As to offers of marriage, you are


wrong replied the young lady, laugh
ing; 4 have been honored by two; ont
from Mr.. Sam Gregory, who, with
great deal of bashfulness and fidgeting
about, asked me to consent to be Mrs
Sam; and the other from the Reverend
Westrop Deane, a poor curate who
couldn't sound his rs. l didn't accept
either


Mr.. Give Hardinge lifted his hand
with gesture of disgust, and shaking
his head replied dolefully, (Which it
will eventually come to, perhaps, if you
are not quickly lifted out of this medic
ere class into that higher grade of so
ciety to which YOU are entitled by birth
and position. am very glad you are
going to my mother for a little time /;
for although there is not my dear
cousin, a more perfect lady in all Lon
don than you, yet the constant COM
panioDship of this so-called upper-class
of the village might in time cause you to
forget that your superiority precludes
the possibility of your ever choosing a
husband from among the families you
are in the habit of visiting; for it would
i'll beseem the blood of Hardinge to
mate with one beneath her.


The hot blood flew up in torrent to
the girls face as her cousin uttered
these words, for she knew that her
mother had been so considered to de-
mean herself, when two and-twenty
years before, she disobeyed the COM
msnds Of a stern parent and sterp
brother, and proudly placed her hand
in the strong, warm grasp of man who
had no sin against him but his poverty,
his ambitious dsy-dreams and his love
for her. She remembered how, in this
obscure spot, they had eked out his
meagre pittance; how the glorious pro-
ductions of art, that his glowing imagi-
nation had vivified into the noble face,
drawn and sad, and large eloquent eyes,
that had fought SO bravely for them, a
closed volume of blindness and Death
Then the struggle for life, for existence
the long years of suffering and sorrow
of her early life, and subsequent the
two hundred pounds a year that some
unknown relative, dying, had left them.


She had never seen a single mem
Der Of her mothers family until few
months before, when Give Hardinge, +,
son Of that brother who had sealed up
his fathers heart sgainst his sister all
the days of his life, came suddenly
upon them in their quiet country
home, was struck with the refinement
that pervaded the atmosphere M which
his aunt and cousin lived, and charmed
with the rare grace and fresh beauty of
the young girl. He hastened to create
an amicable understanding between his
mother and Mrs. Lysle, which being
eatily effected, as Mrs. Hardinge enter
tanned no feelings of resentment against
a woman she had never seen, he sud
denly fancied that the cool, fresh breez-
es of Hillside might have a beneficial
influence on his town-bred constitution
and therefore without much circumlocu-
ton, he gave broad hint to that effect.
His aunt took the hint and invited him.
During his stay he and Florence had
been a great deal thrown together, and,
with a constant interchange of thought
and opinion passing between them, grew
in a month pretty well to know and ap-
preciate each other.


Give Hardinge was neither hand
some nor young; but he possessed that
which English people, and English
women especially, value more in men
than correctness of features, or even
youth-strengtb, courage and manli-
ness. Five-and-thirty years had rolled
over his brown head, and left the wavy
hair still brown and the gray eyes un-
in the fire of their boyhood.
He considered himself middle-aged
man now and if any midsummer day
dream had ever tinged with transient
brightness the even tenor of bis life, it
was long since rolled up in the past
He took an interest in Florence, by rea-
son of her beauty, her innocence, and
her unprotection Man of the world,
as he was, thoroughly understanding
all the ins and outs of society, he felt
that his cousin was no common girl
that she was adapted to fill higher
position than that in which she had yet
moved. He took this interest to heart
and acted rather vaguely upon ii.


In tie pause that succeeded his last
remark, bis keen discernment instantly
detected the insult be had unintention-
ally offered her, and, with a slight en-
barrassment in his face, be bent forward,
and said, earnestly:


Forgive me, Floy; do not misunder-
stand my meaning, lam referring to
yourself. You will be engaged before
you leave London, mark my words


The flush at once died out of her face,
and a merry sparkle danced in her eyes,
as she said gaily:


What, in a MONTH Ny good cousin,
how quickly you are going to dispose of
me! Make no such rash prophecy, thou
,racle of evil


But l do said Give. Let me bet
you dozen of gloves that my predic-
ion becomes true


Against wbatP she asked.


Against a kiss, he replied.


Sir, you surprise me- said Florence.
But you would lose your bet.'


But if lose will pay said he, 'and
f you lose you must pay


But | shall not lose, cousin CliYe.'l |