CHAPTER THE SECOND. AFTER TEN YEARS. Ten years are past, life is no more Pleasures have proved but falling stars, And many a sweetest spell untrue.-L. E. L. I. IT was the twenty-second of April. Mrs. Sara Grandage was profoundly intent on her Times for a long while that morning, and when she laid it down at last and took off her spectacles, she gave vent to a genuine sigh, which caused Rachel Withers to look up in much amazement; for a sound of this nature did not escape the old lady more than once in a twelvemonth. On raising her head Rachel found her godmamma contemplating her with a comical, lachrymose expression to match the sigh, and on her asking what was the matter, she replied in the most irrelevant way, "Dumpling, you are still a young woman-still a young woman, you know." 66 Comparatively," rejoined Rachel, marvelling what Bittersweet would discover next-reviving that ugly old name too, which had been abolished by common consent ages ago! 66 Comparatively, of course, You are not a girl, but your powers of enjoyment are as keen and quick as ever." "Oh, yes! I am ready for any little pleasure that comes opportunely in my way." Here a pause, then Bittersweet again, "Dumpling, it begins to occur to me that I have perhaps been rather selfish about you, and that some day you may reproach my memory for it." (What can have put that nonsense into her head? thought Rachel). "It is pretty here; Prior's Bank is very pleasant, but this is a dull life we lead for a woman who is still young." (Rather late in the day to find that out, thought Rachel again, but she only said she did not often feel it so.) "An occasional variety does us all good. You enjoyed our Paris excursion amazingly, I remember." "Yes; that is nine, no, ten years ago." "Ten years, is it? How short they seem! Ten years! And we went to Claymire afterwards, did we not? That was at the time poor Betsy Briggs died. I recollect it all now ! " And then she again took up her newspaper, and was absorbed for another half hour, at the end of which she threw it from her, exclaiming with a gasp, "No, it is impossible to picture it, quite impossible! Rachel, do come and talk; you are scribbling letters for ever!" Down immediately went Rachel's pen, and “What is the text?" said she, ensconcing herself in her favourite easy-chair, with a bit of idlework in her fingers, ready for one of those interminable talks with which Bittersweet now wore out half the day. "This Great Exhibition-should you not like to go to it?" was the answer, and in an instant she was wide awake. "Like to go? Of course, I should like to go! John and Katherine are going, and the Hills, and all the rest of the world!" She would have added, "Let us go, too," but she remembered her godmamma's seventy-six years, and refrained herself. But the old lady, who was as vivacious and not much less active than formerly, said it for her without demur. "Let us go, Rachel-we will go!" cried she; and from that moment it was decided. They did not discuss the matter, they settled it. Hanson and Clip would accompany them, and take all trouble and care off their hands. Rachel felt as jubilant as a child setting off to the sea for the first timea very healthful frame of mind to be in at the advanced date when her godmamma good-naturedly spoke of her as still a young woman. "As we are going, let us go to the opening!", was the next proposal. "It will be a fine spectacle, and I always liked a crowd." When Bittersweet undertook anything, she did not undertake it by halves. "And we will stay a month or six weeks in town, and see everything there is to be seen." It was very far from Rachel's mind to gainsay anything so charmingly desirable. "And we shall meet everybody we know. Even cousin Delia has discovered that it is her pious duty to go, since the object is the furtherance of peace and goodwill amongst men; and Flora and the doctor will be there, of course; and Sinclair, and probably that little girl who has gone to school to your friend, Mary Cornwell. You will be glad to see Mary Cornwell again, Rachel.” 66 "Of course I shall. She is the only one of my peculiar set who remains unmarried like myself except Carrie Martin." "And can you fancy this magnified glass-house roofing in two elms as big as any about here, as easily as our conservatory roofs in a couple of camellias? And the jewels, Dumpling, and the laces, and the china! I always had a passion for lace and curious china;" and so she went on, exciting her own and her goddaughter's anticipations to the utmost over this famous gathering of wonders of the world. The same afternoon, full of impatience to spread her report, Rachel went up to the rectory to communicate with Katherine about the journey to town, stating her godmamma's queer preamble and all; when to her utter astonishment, her sister-in-law fully acquiesced in Bittersweet's self-accusation; if she could have anticipated such a tirade as followed Rachel would certainly never have told her. "So she has been selfish, very selfish!" cried Katherine. "John and I have often thought so, and regretted that we ever allowed you to live at Prior's Bank. It is nobody else who has prevented your marrying and settling in life, as it is every woman's duty to do—yes, Rachel, every woman's duty!" Katherine was so serious and impressive that Rachel could not help laughing as she protested, and truly, that nobody had ever made her an offer but Mr. Gilsland-and who could say it was her fault she had not married him? "Of course, no one ever made you an offer-how should they when you gave yourself airs of being a |