Year: 1861

anybody could take up with such a lowborn
cur. Often, very often, | have seen her
exactly as in that picture before you, stand
ing behind and looking down with sort Of
contempt on Miss Cicely and her dog Pin
cher. 1t is mystery to me up to this day
how she ever came by the odd notions she
had 1 suppose she took them from her
mothers country, where, I've heard, that
they are women full grown at sixteen years
old. Once, indeed. when Miss Ciccly was
taken very bad with some sickness Ga sick
ness that came once more in her little life,
and took the sweet child along with it),
once, I say, when she was lying i'll, and
everybody going around with blank faces,
and dead weight on their breasts, [ think
lady Alice took it to her heart. saw her
at the end of the long gallery, when she
thought no one could see her, crying bit
terly.


l think she would have died sooner than
let any one see her cry, and l rccollect she
had picked up some old story out of the old
history books, about boy who had stolen
fox under his cloak, and let it cat his flesh
sooner than cry out-which she said was a
fine thing, noble thing, of the boy. Hea-
thcnish, thought it, and what you might
expect of unchristian people. But the way
the poor dumb brute Pinchcr took on and
grieved was enough to shame christian men
with souls. To sec him-that we had taken
for a lazy, sleeping creature, with no thought
but his meals-moping, and scratching,
and turning up his long face to everybody,
whining dismally in corners, and refusing
his food, would have touched heart of
stone, and made me heartily repent having
so misjudged the poor animal


There was much jubilee, you may be sure,
when Miss Cicely got over that attack
Poor Squire had nearly gone distracted, and
in his trouble, do believe, vowed to build
church if she got we'll. Whether this was
SO or not, church was commenced immc
diately, and there it stands on the southern
half of the estate some five miles away 1t
might be year after that coming on to
Novembcr-it was hard by November, for
All Hallow's Eve was only a few days off
that young Mr.. Richard came down to the
Grange for the shooting. A fine bold spo-
ken, checry fellow, full of life and spirits,
with an off-hand manner which took every
body that came near him. Hc was full of
dash and spirit, aud vas s5suaa for the
French wars then being fought. So he
came down and shot and ranged over the
fells, and every keeper and follower about
the place, and Squire himself, thought they
never met with so fine fellow. As I said,
he was so ready and off hand with the men,
and indoors as you may we'll guess, the two
little girls thought there was nobody far Or
near to match with Cousin Richard only
each liked him in way of her own.


It was pleasant when the long evenings
came on, aud the lamp lighted, and the fire
we'll raked up, and they were all sitting in
this room-the Squire weary with his days
hunting, and young Richard having ridden
perhaps to and from Arbour Court, where
he was fond of visiting-it was pleasant to
see how he would draw up his chair, and
set to work amusing himself with the two
little things. He would have them on each
side Of him, and very often Miss Cicely, his
pct, upon his knee and there she would
laugh and chatter, and ask questions the
whole evening. It was enough to make one
laugh to see Alice's little airs, and the way
she tried him with her dignity looks, all to
let him know what a great lady she was
Then she would dress herself up in all man.
ner of queer ways. and come in and walk
up and down the room, with her head back !,
trying to attract Richards attention, of
which he would purposely take no heed, but
talk and laugh with the little creature on
his knee, telling her that he loved simplci-
ty, and to be simple and natural, until the
latter, having fouted to no purpose, would
be ready to sit down in the corner and cry.
Not that she would do such thing. She
would not give him that satisfaction, but
would sit and sulk the whole evening Then
he would speak to her with kind Of mock
pcct-calling her the grand Spanish lady,
the Donna, the dark haired Donna who had
a right to queen it there on account of her
high blood. ''Poor little Cicely," he would
say, ''you have no blue blood in your veins. D


Blue blood that was his word, on which
she would stamp her foot and fire up saying
she had great Don in Spain for her uncle,
who had long, long sword, and would pro-
tect her and kill any one that insulted one
of his family. At which terrible threat Mr.
Richard would nearly drop off his chair with
laughter, and the Squire would lift his eyes
from his newspaper and laugh, too, and then
she would step away out of the room, look
ing around on them all very wickcdly -
Then Miss Cicely, with tears in her eyes
and putting up her hands, would beg and
pray-o of Cousin Richard not to be so very
cruel to Cousin Alice; and it would all end
in Mr.. Richards going out and bringing
her in with much difficulty, finding her out
side the long corridors like a scared deer
She would tell him that she hated him, and
always would hate him. and talk again of
her Spanish uncle and his long rapicr, which
only made Mr. Richard laugh more and
more. and say he would be proud to meet
the old Don


Pretty much the same scene used to go
forward every night, but the fact was that
for all her pettishucss and talk of hating
him, she was very fond of Mr.. Richard. =
Whenever he would pretend to be angcrcd
at ut her .,,at..l.,, ,nl l.,