Year: 1873

We WcIe SOIuS W Ouy Wuue VIC WdACou'


"That was your business, not mine;
and Jack, if you look at me like that
I'll box your ears"


"No, you won't! I think you're all
in very bad temper this morning.


"Do you? Now I tell you what it
is, Mr.. Jack. Till you find out hov
we're going to get money to live on I
won't have anything more to say or do
with you at all. Don't come near me
now. don't love you bit; never
shall, and I never did! And, Jack,
when you have found out ho,v, you'll
come and tell me first, won't you?"
And away dashed Jessie, leaving me
at the garden gate, to which we had
walked during our conversation.


1t was lovely spring morning. All
nature seemed in ecstasy at the pros
pect of approaching summer. I alone
was sad. I could not help feeling that
I had made mistake, and that I must
have lowered myself considerably in
the estimation of old Mr.. Clavering
by appearing SO thoughtless and in
consideratc. True, 1 was but nine
teen, and having lost my father early,
had been brought up and educated
by my mother alone, and SO perhaps
had rather less knowledge of the world
than l should have acquired had 1 been
sent to public school or to the univer-
sity. Ny position was by no means
bad one. The only son of distin-
guished military officer, who was not
wealthy, but left what little he had to
his widow during her lifetime. Imight
be said to have possessed good edu-
cation, and what was perhaps better,
fair prospects. 1 had been invited by
Mr.. Clavering, who was an old military
comrade of my fathers, to spend a
month with him mt his residence at
Morecome Bay. During my stay had
learned first to like and then to love his
daughter Jessie, and when my visit
approached its termination had not
only declared my love, but had asked
permission to marry, with what result
is known. Having been always toll
erably we'll supplied with money, l
had never yet been brought face to
face with the great educator of human
ity-the necessity of earning ones
bread-and was, therefore, IA ther ig
norant of some of the principal duties
of life than unmndful of them. The
bluff, common sense of Jessie's father
had compelled me to consider matters
from practical point of view, and l
perhaps was more angry with myself
than with any one else. I walked on,
but finally resolved to return to the
cottage and saddle Moro for ride
Moro had been my fathers charger,
and had been left me, with particular
instructions as to his care. He was
splendid horse of jet-black color and
enormous strength. By the kindness
of my host had been allowed to bring
him with me, and many pleasant ride
had I had on his back with Jessie Clay
erins.


AS l entered the pleasant garden
attached to the cottage I strove in vain
to catch a glimpse of Jessie, and reached
the stable without having met anybody
but the old gardener, who saluted me
with the usual How zee do Surf
was soon by the side of Moro, who
gave a neigh of delight as I catered.
1t did not take me long to put on his
saddle, and as left the yard I learned
from the old groom that Miss Clavering
had ridden out alone about a quarter
of an hour before me. was certainly
much chagrined at this, and made sew
eral mental resolves to be fully re-
venged as soon as I could get con-
venient opportunity. I turned down
lane that led to the bridle-path along
the top of the cliffs, and letting the
reins fall over Moro's neck, abandoned
myself to building castles in the air,
in which Jessie took very prominent
part. The spot was admirably adapted
to meditation. To my left small
wood, through the breaks in which
glimpses of the rising upland were
caught every now and then, straight
ahead broad expanse of purple heath
er, and to my right the rugged steep
cliffs, at the foot Of which lay a vas
tract OF saaa; as the sea. owing to the
fiat shore, retires distance of nearly
four miles; far away in the distance
the bright dancing waters, with sail
kxyo in c;rrhk o~.l 1,,a. Al