forward; the last waggon-load had bees hoisted on the rick.

"Well, Kenneth, don't I deserve som? supper?"

"Yes; but, supposing I had taken your advice, and stayed at home, what would you have got?"

"Oh, well, I supposed you were right all the time; though certainly I never mean to humble myself into confessing it; but I have been working so hard that I am as hungry and thirsty as any of them; s there is no help for it. Do sit down, my men, and let us have something."

rest at heart, and was always trying to do them good. Although so young, he was invariably consulted where any new place was to be begun; and there was not a villager that would do the slightest thing he objected to; but even in their private concerns, his advice was always asked, because they knew it would be always given. He was naturally of a serious cast of mind. which was increased by the early death of his father, and the responsibility he felt had fallen upon him at the time. He had had many trials for one so young to keep himself in the right path, and had suc ceeded so well that the struggles he now They were hardly seated before half of had, though felt by himself, were seldom them were up again, and a cry arose of, discernible to others. His greatest difficulty "There is Miss Alice!" and they bent was to keep himself calm when he heard their steps towards a party who were enter others spoken against: he could bear any-ing the field. Alice Vernon ran towards thing said to himself, but had often lost his self-control when anyone slandered a fellowcreature. Besides his sister, he had another care in Norman Anteegar. His father was a great friend of Colonel McAlpine, and belonged to the same regiment. He fell on the field of battle, with his dying breath committing his infant son to the care of his friend. Norman was an orphan, for his mother had died a year after his birth. Colonel McAlpine Ead him brought to Lauderdale as soon as possible, where he lived from his infancy, and was almost looked upon as one of the family. He was liked for his good temper and lively disposition; but at times he was a little too thoughtless.

But to return.

In the cool of the evening Annie and Norman went to the hayfield, which, indeed, was a pretty sight. All but one waggon-load of hay was housed, towards which Norman (after taking Annie to Kenneth) ran, took up a prong, and was soon as busy as any man in the field. Kenneth was superintending the arrangements for the harvest supper: the men had asked to have it in the field. The table was already spread, and Kenneth, at the head of it, was only waiting for the men to sit down, for the pleasure would have been greatly lessened if he were not among them.

Opposite the table was a group of men, who, on seeing Annie enter the field, begged Kenneth to lead her towards them, for they had fitted up a kind of harbour of flowers, with two seats, in one of which Annie was seated. She asked who was to occupy the other place, and the men said, "little Miss

Vernon-she was sure to come."

The men, headed by Norman, now came

them, and by shaking hands with one, nodding to another, plainly showed she was at home with them. She was led by five or six of the men to the harbour, and her exclamations of surprise and pleasure filled some of the men's eyes with tears, for she was a favourite with them all; and although she was sixteen she was always looked upon as little Miss Alice.

While the haymakers were surrounding the arbour, Kenneth and Norman had gone to meet Edith Vernon and her brother Harry-a perfect specimen of a schoolboy, fifteen years old. Edith Vernon was a pleasing-looking girl, with agreeable manners; she was twenty, and her womanly deportment contrasted strangely with her sister's playfulness.

"Mr. Kenneth," she said, "I think we had better go and remind the men they have not had their supper; for they do not seem to be able to leave their two little queens."

Accordingly they now sat down, and did full justice to the meal. While they were thus engaged

"Alice," said Annie, "how is it everyone is so fond of you?"

"I am sure I don't know; they are not more fond of me than I of them; it seems very natural. I do not know what I should do if people did not love me; and they like you too, Annie. You are very kind to them, and you see they have seated you in this arbour as well as me."

"Oh, but they did not run towards me, and lead me to it; they merely asked Kenneth to place me here. I am not envious; hope you do not think I am; but I wish to know what they would like me to do for them."

I

"Why you have plenty to do at home,

because you are housekeeper; but I have | year, I should certainly advise her to have a candle to see that she gets out of bed the right side, for it's more than she did this morning."

time to myself, which I occupy in working for them; and as to their leading you here, as they do not see you so often as they do me, they perhaps thought you might not

like it.'

I wish they did not. I hope they do not think me proud."

Now, Annie, I have brought some shirts that I have finished, and you shall help me to give them away."

Harry, please be quiet. I do not like you to speak so."

"Harry," said Norman, "do tell me what you call being in the dumps?"

Why, first of all, she wanted to come here, but papa wished her to stay and read the paper to him. So Alice goes and begs Oh, but it won't be my work." him to allow her to stay at home in her They were here interrupted by two cheers sister's place. Having gained his consent, for Miss McAlpine and Miss Alice. They she hastens to Miss Matilda, who thanks stood up and thanked the men; it was a her by saying that if she wished to go she pretty sight: they were both dressed in could ask for herself, and tells her never to white, which stood out in relief against the beg any favour for her without consulting scarlet flowers surrounding them-they her. She then told her to go and dress. looked the picture of innocence. Alice had Alice, as usual, put on her white dress, but thrown off her hat, and her face was almost her sensible sister, saying she wished to the reverse of her companion's: it was make herself conspicuous, insisted on her more beautiful; she had the same com- changing for a coloured one; but on seeing plexion, but her dark eyes and black hair Alice ready to do so, as if she had wished it set forth the whiteness of, her skin; her herself, finished the scene by saying she features were small, and there was an un-need not change. She hated to see people usual expression of countenance, which so indifferent. "Twas quite put on. might have belonged to an older person- could never make out Alice, for she believed an expression which conveyed an idea of a she tried to make herself unlike her comdepth of feeling in all she did not gene- panions.' It was a little behind, as they rally to be found in one so young. Her went out of the garden, and heard this hair was drawn in bands on each side of specimen of perfection come back, if you her face, and she wore a wreath of real will believe it, and say, 'Matilda, I am lilies, in the middle of which was a single sorry I spoke to papa without asking you. "forget-me-not"- her favourite flower. I will not do so again.' Now, for the She now distributed her work, and heard life of me, I can't see that she need have Annie saying, "This is not my work: it is done that. I should have addressed her, Miss Alice's." She wished to tell her she 'Amiable Matilda, you shall not have occaneed not have said so, but she thought, "I sion to thank me again for seeking your should have told them so myself; I sup- pleasure.' And I advise you, Alice if you pose it is right:" so she let it pass. wish to keep the peace between me and my beloved half-sister, not to come apologising for nothing close to bushes which might conceal my corpus.'

By this time it was getting late; they proposed going home; and before Kenneth could offer his assistance, Annie asked an old man standing near to help her down; Ler cheerful "thank you!" pleased the old servant, and made him say, "God bless you!" She told him to come to the Hall in a few days, when he received a shirt of her making; and from that evening much of her time was given to the work.

As they were returning, Kenneth, who had not had time to speak to Alice, said, How did you leave your father and sister,

Alice

"Pretty well, thank you, Mr. McAlpine."

"Ah, Alice," said Harry, "how can you say so Papa was well enough, Mr. Kenneth, but Matilda was in the dumps; and although I should have thought it was light at seven o'clock at this time of the

VOL. VIL-NEW SERIES.

She

Alice, who during this recital (which was delivered with a schoolboy's Huency of speech) had frequently endeavoured to interrupt Harry, could bear it no longer, but burst into tears.

Kenneth, who, not knowing much of Harry, had not liked to dictate to him, quietly said, "Harry, I think you should try and repeat good of people instead of evil, and even if you were asked to give your opinion of your sister, she is so much older than you that I do not think you should give it quite so freely; and you must remember she had no mother, like you had, to bring her up. Forgive me for saying so much; but as I am the eldest of the party I hardly think it is right to listen to this as if I approved of it. Do not think me

unkind, Harry. I so often commit faults myself that I know I had no right on that score to speak to you, but I fear I should be committing one now were I to listen any longer to what you do not mean to be harm, but what is not kind."

Harry held down his head and said, "You have no Matilda to contend with at

the Hall."

"No; but don't you know that you ought to overcome evil with good, and if there is anything unpleasant, although I know it is hard to bear, try if you cannot by your example make it all straight again. Self denial, cheerfulness, and love united bring happiness and peace to a house, and will even restore it if once lost. Will you try to be this sunbeam, Harry, my boy !"

A tear glistened in Harry's eyes as he answered, "The sunbeam is there already!"

Kenneth felt that it was; "But," said he, "it's ray should be reflected from those who feel them, Harry."

Harry understood him, but said nothing, and turned to join Alice, who, as usual, was behind, gathering forget-me-nots. Her tears were wiped away, and Kenneth went back to help her to arrange her flowers, and as she liked to hear them admired, he did so highly.

"Now, Mr. Kenneth, here is a beauty; you shall have it!" and in her childish way stuck it in his coat.

Norman begged Edith to walk a little in front of the others, "for," said he, "I was the originator of this mischief, and if any one were there but Kenneth I would bear all the blame, and the lecture. I don't dislike a person storming at me-I think it rather fun; but when it comes to gentle words it's all up with me. So do, Miss Edith, take pity on me and leave them to themselves; for they will all be in tears before he's done with them."

After seeing Edith, Alice, and Harry safely at home, Kenneth and Norman turned towards Allington Hall, whither Annie had repaired before.

When Kenneth went to bed that evening, and took the forget-me-not out of his coat, a strange feeling came over him. It seemed that the little flower possessed some magic influence; for he stood gazing at it for some minutes, then wrapped it in silver paper, and locked it in his desk.

CHAPTER III.

IT is now due to my readers to speak to them a little of the inmates of Heathfield

House. Mr. Vernon was a lawyer, at this period about fifty years of age. He was a shrewd, intelligent man, combining with a mirthful and apparently indifferent disposition a firmness of character, of which he was sometimes vain. From his general conduct he might have been cer sidered an unobserving man, but Mr. Vernon was quite the contrary. He sa into everything, and was often at the depth of a person's secret before the person himself was aware that he had one. He had married twice. His first wife died soon after Matilda's birth; consequently, she grew up under the care of servants until she was old enough to go to school. She was always a spiteful child, and labouring under these disadvantages, her dispe sition did not improve; she had been taugh to think so much of the follies of the world that Mr. Vernon, as a last resource, resolved to marry again. He did so, but Matilda was now too old to submit to he step-mother. She behaved most unduti fully to her, and caused her father much grief; for, always quarrelling either with the children or her step-mother, she kept the house in continual disagreement, and in about ten years after Mr. Vernon again found himself a widower, with Matilda at the head of the house. He now told her plainly that she was to obey him, and to leave him to manage the children. He had a governess for them for two or three years, and now Edith assisted Alice in her studies. Matilda had never liked the children; she saw they came between her and her father. But when Edith had grown up to womanhood she quietly told Matilda that she did not wish to be interfered with she should do nothing at all to provoke a quarrel between them, and that whatever was wrong in her she wished her father to correct. This quiet way of speaking had a much greater effect on Matilda than a violent outbreak would have had; for, by reasoning so quietly, and yet so firmly, she thought that Edith must have received authority from her father, and from this time she ceased to control her. As Harry now spent most of his time at school, she did not trouble herself to annoy him during his vacation, so that it was with Alice she had most to do, and it seemed that she resolved to make up for the deficiency in the others by exerting a twofold power over Alice. One might have supposed that seeing her such a sweet-tempered little thing she would have had a natural feeling of kindness towards her; but she tried to think Alice in the wrong, because she took

things so quietly; she, however, knew she was a good child, and felt the contrast between them. This made her jealous, and she did her utmost to make her appear at fault before others.

It was about a fortnight after the events that took place in the last chapter that Kenneth and Norman prepared to walk to Heathfield. They fixed Saturday; for this was the only day that Mr. Vernon spent at home. It was intensely hot, and they had not been in the house any length of time before Alice, who had been in the village, entered the room, and throwing herself into a chair, exclaimed, "I am glad I am home, for I am tired, and it is so warm out of doors""

will allow me. I should like to take a few cuttings from the garden, if Miss Edith will be so kind as to show me them."

Alice now came down equipped for the ride, and as she and Kenneth mounted their horses a smile came across Mr. Vernon's face. Matilda's expression was anger.

In most cases the propriety of the ride might be questioned; but Alice, as I have said before, was considered a mere child, and to have seen her in her riding dress, which made her look still slighter, her little face beaming with innocence and delight, would have dispelled all scruples on this point.

"Oh, Mr. Kenneth," said she, as they rode along, "it was very kind of you to offer to come with me, for I fear you wanted to go home, as I know your time is always valuable.

Matilda now came in and said, “Alice, did you get my skein of silk for me?" "No, I did not know you asked me." But you have heard me wish for it for the last two or three days. I wanted it so Indeed, Alice, this is quite a pleasure. much that I think you might have remem-I am foni of riding, and am glad I have bered it. But," said she, turning to done some good to-day, for I should have Kenneth, children are forgetful, and been sorry if, for want of a companion, never think of a thing after it is men- you had been obliged to walk again to the village."

tioned."

"Alice," said Mr. Vernon, "where are you going?"

"I am going out, papa." "Out! Out where;" "To the village, papa." "What, and just come in complaining of the heat? Alice, you are a good child; bat I shall not allow you to injure you health for a trumpery piece of silk. Matilda, you are not generally so anxious for work; it is a new feature in your character" (for he saw that it was only for the sake of finding fault with Alice).

Matilda was just going to answer when Alice, fearful of a scene, exclaimed, "Dear papa, do please let me go! I am rested now. I shall like the walk, and it will make me more thoughtful for the future. Come, papa, do say yes!" and she sealed the entreaty with a kiss.

"No, Alice, you must not walk any more to-day. Matilda, order round a couple of the horses. By-the-bye, though, Harry is out shooting with James, and I am so busy to-day that I cannot go."

I shall enjoy a ride, if you have no objection, Mr. Vernon, and if Alice likes it," said Kenneth.

"Thank you, Kenneth! I shall be much obliged; and Norman can stay here until your return, or go back to the Hall, whichever he may choose."

"I should prefer staying here, if you

Oh, Mr. Kenneth, one never loses anything by self-denial. I must say I should have preferred staying in to walking; but by denying myself that pleasure, see what a treat I have gained!"

"Yes; but, Alice, this is not the greatest treat it gives you, is it? This is not the greatest treat of self-denial; this is more earthly happiness, all very well for the time, but it brings no peace of mind. I am sure you must find that."

"Oh, yes, Mr. Kenneth; I am so happy after doing what is right, although I often do wrong. When I deny myself anything I never think I am doing it for an earthly person. It always comes into my head, in

much as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me,' and I think it is beautiful to fancy you can do anything for

Him!"

"Indeed it is, Alice; and after once or twice we can hardly imagine our ever hesitating to do so, it is such a privilege!"

"Yes, Mr. Kenneth; but it is hard sometimes, is it not? I often find it difficult to do what I ought, and it makes me very unhappy at the time; but the happiness is so great after it is over that I think it compensates for the trial."

"Yes, Alice; and what is that compensation compared with the eternal reward?"

They cantered on for some time without speaking. At last Alice broke the silence.

had gone to-day we should have been bothered with nothing but your regrets that the dear and everlasting' Miss Smith was not of the party; and now that interesting young lady is going, that won't do. I must say I think you are the capricious one of the two. 'Pon my word, it's a good thing I go to school, or we should soon see Lauderdale stuck up in history on account of the civil wars at Heathfield House. Edith," continued he, "I was thinking of telling you last night to put on your dark blue instead of your green habit to-day, it is much more becoming; but, on second thoughts, I considered the hint unnecessary, and you see I am right," glancing, at the same time, at the beautiful habit that was sweeping the ground. "There, now, go and put on your hat, while you have that colour. Nor-I mean the others will be here soon. Ah! here comes my father, just in time to stop a mighty oration," said he in a whisper, looking towards the angry Matilda.

The morning was fine, the day promised to be very warm; there was a slight breeze in the air accompanied by a mist, which generally betokens heat.

Mr. Vernon had just finished his breakfast when Kenneth and Norman made their appearance.

Annie will not dismount, thank you, Sir, as I presume you are ready to start. "Good morning, Alice! Is it not time to dress ?"

"Alice," said her father, "is not going, she prefers staying at home to call on her six old women, as she calls them; can you fancy it ?"

"Indeed I can fancy it of Alice;" but his face showed disappointment at her fancy. The three girls now came downstairs, and Harry, by a little manoeuvering, acted so that Norman was the only one who could assist Edith to mount.

"Now," said he, "we are not going in this clump through the village. Mr. Kenneth, will you join Matilda? Norman, Miss McAlpine? Father, perhaps you will ride with Miss Smith, and I and Edith will follow behind. Norman looks wofully disconcerted," said he to Edith, "but never mind; if his heart aches one half of the journey, he will better appreciate the other

half."

Edith never pretended to understand her brother, and they continued their ride without any interruption until they had passed the village, when Harry exclaimed, "Now, papa and Mr. Kenneth, I know your two young ladies wish to talk to each

other, and as I should like to speak to Miss Annie" (if he had been asked what he wanted to say I do not think he could have told), "I must exchange partners with Norman." Norman," said he, approaching, "I am truly sorry to deprive you of so pleasing a companion, but Miss Annie and I have not had much to say to each other for some time; so with her leave, may lask you to accompany my sister for awhile?"

He said this in such a manner that Norman could not help smiling, and merely saying as he passed—

"Always ready to accommodate myself," he rejoined the blushing Edith.

Mr. Vernon, when he had joined Kenneth, after some trifling conversation began

66

Kenneth, my boy, what does Norman Anteeger intend to do? what profession does he think of entering? It is high time he should settle; don't you think so?" 'Why, Mr. Vernon, I have not thought of it; I am not aware that he intends doing anything of the sort."

"How can he live-I mean maintain, himself? He cannot always hang on your hands; I remember your father telling me he had no property of his own.'

"To be sure!" said Kenneth. "How very neglectful I have been! It has all along been so natural to have him with us that I never dreamt of his leaving; indeed, I never thought about his money affairs. Poor boy, what a guardian I am!"

"I thought, perhaps, it might not have entered your head, and I think it is time for something to be done; besides," said he, "I have another reason in speaking, which I daresay you can see.'

"No, Mr. Vernon, I see nothing but your disinterested kindness."

"Not quite disinterested either. Look at him now; you don't mean to say, Kenneth, that you have not noticed--"

Kenneth looked towards Norman. He was laughing and talking in the highest spirits to Edith, whose heightening colour and gay laugh, showed it was not entirely disagreeable to her. They seemed a happy and handsome couple-the strong well-made man, and the young girl, whose riding-dress was particularly becoming to her. A sudden thought rushed through Kenneth's mind; he could not but comprehend Mr. Vernon's meaning, and it flashed across him that Norman had lately been very absent after he had been at the Vernon's.

"How stupid I have been !" said he, half

aloud.

"Indeed I cannot compliment you on