Year: 1872

NlidSo-pTetty, HVeiy, ana, ike
all pets, very self.willed; but the
effects of this latter quality were
softened down and rendered quite
lovable by her open, generous dis.
position, which would not allow
her to injure another, even to
crafty that ruling passion. Some
said that Grace thought herself
sufficiently handsome, and termed
it vanity. True, perhaps, when
each Sabbath morning found her
ready decked for the sunny walk
to the parish church Oh the hill
side, or the weekdays evening
saw her in her little chamber win.
dow plying her needle-yes, per-
haps then, as she caught a sides
long glance at herself In the little
mirror, she might think it no such
great wonder that the young men
gazed as they passed her, or that
they looked SO curiously at the
bow.pcts and towering geraniums
perched on the sill Of her case.
ment-perhaps, too, she might
think they cast a glance beyond.
But was this vanity9 No; Grace
was as free from that hateful quail.
ity as the bird which carolled so
joyously in his bright cage on the
cottage wall. Vanity cannot be
justly attributed to those only con.
scious of possessing the qualities
which are theirs in reality, but to
those alone who boast to them.
selves of projections which they
can never hope to possess. Such
was the case with those who term.
ed Grace vain. ...... ......,


One fine autumn evening she
sat, as usual, beside her gerani
ums, over which was hung her
little bird Pet; but the leaves of
the former hung droopingly. as
though to ask of their sweet mis-.
tress the usual drop of spring wa
ter, and poor Pet chirruped and
hoped from perch to perch, and
ruffied his yellow feathers to at


tract her attention, but in vain.-
No cooling drop greeted the sick.
ly leaf--no tiny finger placed a


bit of sugar between Pets cage
wires. And how was this? Was
Grace ill9 No; but her thoughts
were wandering, and although
her eyes were fixed full on poor
Pet and his companion plants, she
neither saw one nor the other
And whittier were her thoughts
wandering2 Only into a neigh.
boring lane, up which she strolIed
when the sun was beginning to
dip his bright head meath the
blue tops of the neighboring hill.
1t was a very pleasant lane, but
as its sides were bounded by high
hawthorn and wild rose. e.bushcs, it
may be supposed Grace did not
60 there for the sake of any beau.
titul prospect, for her whole
height was not more than the top
of the banks on which the bushes
grew. For what, then, could it
be2 In truth it was that there
generally accompanied her thither
a very pleasant companion-not
her mother-not one of the neigh
boris daughters. No; bur a
young man, the son of farmer
not far distant. $50.


Yes, the truth may as we'll be
told. Grace had given, or
thought she had given, her little
heart to the companion of her
strolls; and, indeed, any one to
look OIL him, might imagine a
better choice could not he made.
Tall, handsome and athletic he
was, and his eye beamed when he
looked on her. But they who
knew him better than Grace, said
that he was wild and tickle =
Neither did they scruple to warn
her of that knowledge. But
Grace would not believe. How
could she, when she saw that, al.
though they spoke against him,
they were always ready to wei.
come him to their own homes 2
Besides there was an eloauence
far more powerful to the heart and
understanding of Grace--more
eloquent; more easily believed
than aught they could utter. Yes,
the eye and tongue of William
Clively were the monitors most
eagerly sought, and most willingly
listened to when found. How
could she think he was deceiving
hers there was no falsehood iH
his deep gaze on her no harsh.
ness in his ,v.S voice. Bat there
was one who did not like him, to
whom Grace had ever vet been
accustomed to pay the most pro
found submission, because that hu.
mility had never been forced, but
even won from her by love. That
being was her mother.


She had now been sitting in