Year: 1874

time, for | can have my little ramble round
by the mill in peace, and he be none the wiser
for it. He'll not be back for couple OF
hours, if he is going to climb that hill. Let
me see-I wonder if it is time for my village
beauty to be ON her homeward way yet"
He drew out his watch and consulted it.
"Hallo! it's not as early as l thought" he en-
claimed. "I must be off at once, or | shall
have my walk for nothing, and that won'tpay,
as the Yankees say. am going on fools
erraud at best, but do not feel inclined to
discard the folly yet-Tll listen to Wisdoms
preaching on some future day. Any diversion
which serves to enliven the tedium of exist
ence is too acceptable not to be taken advan-
tage Of"


With this reflection, he lit another cigar,
then walked off at quick pace in the oppo-
site direction to the one Horace had taken.
His path lay along the brink of little
stream, that prattled merrily in front of the
inn door, widening and deepening as he fol-
lowed its course, until it came to place where
it foamed noisely over rock and plunged
into low, broad pool in a hollow below. On
the opposite bank, amid cluster of venerable
trees, stood an old dilapidated mill, long dis
used and falling to decay; over its stained
walls and idle wheel grew creeping plants and
vines, and through its gaping lower windows
gaily-colored wild flowers thrust their nod
ding heads, contrasting strangely in their
bloom and freshness with the darkness and
gloom of the dusty rooms, and casting charm
over the ruin upon which they smiled. A belt
of low, broken hills in the background, and
clumps of oak and chestnut trees on either
side, shut in the little hollow, as it were, from
the intrusion of the outer world. 1t was a
quaint and lovely picture, lying peacefully in
the mellow light of the evening sky, with the
long shadow stealing over the dancing water
and the emerald grass, and no sound to dis
turb the stiffness but the rush Of the swift cas-
cade. Charles was very good amateur ar
tist, butit was not his object at present to stu
dy picturesque effects with scarcely glance
at the scene before him he seated himself on
one end of a rude bridge that spanned the
lower portion of the mill-stream, and strained
his vision earnestly along the read, that led
past the mill and through the woods to lit
tie village about half a mile beyond. From
his expectant air it was evident that he was
looking for the approach of some one; nor did
he have to wait long. Presently the figure of
a girl came in view, tripping lightly down the
woodland road, slight, youthful little figure,
clad in brown dress, with straw hat on
her head and basket on her arm quite in
keeping with the character of the place, and
adding greatly to its attractiveness- all
events in the eyes of the young gentleman on
the bridge, whose face frightened with un.
mistakable satisfaction at her approach. The
girls way lay across the stream, and he sprang
up from his seat and advanced to meet her as
she drew near.


"Good evening, Miss Else!" he exclaimed,
smilingly dof6ng his hat. "On your way
home from your errand Of charity, as usual ?"


eyes, sir," was the reply, in sweet silvery
voice, as a pair of dove-like eyes were raised
for an instant to his face, then shyly dropped
again. The look of admiration they encoun-
tered was sufficiently unmistakable to call
forth a rosy blush, which added fresh beauty
to a face already lovely enough to satisfy a
critics eye. 1t was not simply its oval COLI
tour and delicate features, large, lustrous eyes,
wild-rose complexion, and framework of clus'
tering, silky chestnut curls, falling loosely
from beneath the brim Of her shady hat, and
lightly blown by the evening wind; but also
the purity and refinement Of expression, cer-
tain winsome grace and charm pervading the
whole, that placed it, in an artistic point of
view, far above the level of the ordinary type
of rustic prettiness, and laid claim to more
than passing tribute of praise.


"Isn't it lovely evening2" said Charles,
placing himself at her side with the evident
intention of accompanying her on her way.
II was beginning to be afraid you were not
coming. Let me carry your basket for you;
it looks too heavy for your slight arm."


"Oh no sir, it is not heavy at all, )" rejoined
Elsie, smiling, however, as sheyielded itup to
him. "It was full when | went out, but it is
empty now"


"Full of nice things for the poor old sick
dame, I suppose" said Charles. "How is she
this evening ?"


"Very poorly, sir; she's suffering great
deal," said the girl, her bright face clouding
over as she spoke. "She does nothing but
groan and complain, all the time"


"Poor SOUL" said Charles, in sympathetic
tone; while Elsie thought it very kind in
such handsome well-dressed gentleman to
take so much interest in old granny Dixon
and her rheumatic pains "But l am sure
she must feel the better of your visit"


ri don't know abopi. that, sir"


swell, she ought to, I'm sure," said
Charles. "Thc sight of your face alone is
enough to do any one good, I think, and
make one forget everything disagreeable. l
know if l were sick, and you should come to
see me, it would cure me at once"


81 think the doctor would cure you much
more easily sir, said Elsie, with an arch little
smile. 81 never heard that looking at any
body could make a sick person we'll


Il am afraid you would not be willing to let
ME try the experiment. Would you come
and see me, Elsie-Miss Elsie, mean-if
were very ill?"


81 don't know, sir, I'm sure,' was the de-
mure reply. II am not good sick nurse. "
Col, | hut shnnld lilo tn hnun un,, to L %