Year: 1873

 think that he was not to be that bold man.

 Eleanor was very busy upon Hugh's outfit he had been at the Naval School, and now had conspired with Haviland to sail in tho same ship.

 The Winona was under repairs at St. Bo's, and MT. Eustace and Eleanor went there with Hugh, stopping at the hotel for a week to buy the last things and say the last words.

 Eleanor came home so wan and hag- gard that for many weeks there might as we'll have been ghost in the house. It was very difficult to offer consolation when none was asked or expected, but could not altogether refrain.

 "I had no idea you loved that boy so much," said awkwardly.

 "You are very good, but I'm afraid I cannot talk about it, was the discour- aging reply.

 eff you can love brother so much, how you would worship husband" I said, trembling at my own bravery in thus walking over her boundaries.

 Eleanor actually laughed.

 "Do you know" went on, "I think Haviland was just ready to fall in love with you if you had given him the least crumb of encouragement"

 "Did he tell you SOP"

 "No, but one could see it with half an eye"

 "You are very olear-sighted in such matters, perhaps"

 "I have lived longer than you, Flea nor, and I know that man cannot go all the way to Q woman she ought to take the least little step toward him."

 "I could not do that," said Eleanor.

 "Oh, I know it, and so you have let the best fellow on earth slip away from you!"

 "' Mature made him and then broke the mould,'" said Eleanor with smile,

 "You did not know him as did,"

 "I dare say I did not. D

 "But when he comes home again, if he is in the same mind, will you try to like him ?"

 "Yes, I think may safely promise that"

 The tears came to my eyes in my ear nestness, and all at once I found Eleanor crying too, like any other woman.

 "My dear little stepmother," she said, "you have my fathers worries an and your own to bear j, i; will nat trou-

 Then she left me, and I could not help thinking that she might love Havi- land after all.

 Eleanor came slowly out of her sor- row for Hugh's departure and we set tied into the quiet routine which seem- ed likely to last forever. The Winona was spoken of at sea occasionally, and very thick letters came for Eleanor, of which she would read page or two aloud and keep all the rest for her own hunger. Nearly two years went by, and we began to speak of Hugh's return. A sweet cheerfulness that had never seen be- fore in Eleanor seemed to crop out of her glad heart. I was very happy with my stepdaughter. There was not @ cloud as big as mans hand in our sky when Eleanor pointed out to me with trembling finger q line in the newspaper. Her eyes besought me to tell her that she had read it wrong. It was telegram; the Winona had been struck in the night by an English steamer, and sunk with all on board.

 As Sine rose up and fled away with her grief like a wounded animal, the lines of her face were drawn and settled like those of middled-aged woman.

 "How does Eleanor bear it ?" was Mir. Eustace's first question, his own grief fading out beside hers.

 "Come and see, I said, leading him into her room, where she lay, pale and quiet, and unable to speak of her loss without tears.

 I left them together, but it was use- less to hope that they could comfort each other.

 "She bears it better thanI expected, ]" said my husband, rejoining me after Q few minutes.

 : eff she would only rave and tear her hair, it would be a great relief to my mind, but the calmness is unnatural" /" said.

 "Not with her. She is not warm hearted; she does not feel things as we do."

 I did not contradict him. Where would have been the use But it struck me all at once that the first Mrs. Eustace, who was said to resemble her daughter, must of had a very lonely life of it.

 The ill news was soon verified, but Eleanor had believed it from the first. She went about the house at first as she had always done, but loss of appetite and disturbed sleep gradually told upon her strength. She learned to hold her hand tight on her heart as she mounted the stairs. One little industry after another dropped from her weak hands, and without comment on my side or hers she soon lay every day and all day on sofa.

 She never called herself i'll, and would lie for hours in silence, with far-away look in her eyes as if she were gazing seaward. My face must have expressed a little of the yearning pity that over looked my heart.

 els it for me you are unhappy ?" she asked doubtfully one day.

 Yes; l find I have not fortitude enough to bear other peoples misfor. tunes."

 "You may easily bear mine. have been very happy since knew that my waiting would be short.

 You have had but dull, lonely life, Eleanor. l cannot wonder at you indifference to it."

 A sudden rosy brightness transfgur ed Eleanors face, and for the momen she was more lovely than I can tell.

 '' You are wrong, believe me-" sh' said. {" I have had my share of happi ness no woman could have more. I was like some great tropical bloom long in coming and soon gone, but i was unutterably perfect.

 looked at her with wide eyes, ant the drawbridge of her reserve fell in stantly. She lay still for long time and 1 cauld hear the thud of her heart beats.

 When was leaving her, she showed me key on chain that she alway wore about her neck.

 Some time you will use this to un lock my desk," she said, and fnt there what I cannot sav tn vo1l now