you, and I can only amuse you sometimes, so you would be tired of me if I stayed very long."

"Winifred is not. I don't know what she would do without you. Geraldine is so little, and now Herbert is at school, Winifred would be quite lonely if you were not there, so of course it is all right. What a good thing you were in London, to come here now." "We came to London on purpose."

"Did you? All the way from Wales? Mamma did not tell me that; she only said you were coming if you were in London soon enough. Why did you not come to London last year and the year before? Did you and Winifred like being left ?”

"We did not mind it at all. Oh, Bessie, you cannot imagine how lovely last summer was at Pentyre. We were out nearly all day; the woods are so large, and so thick and dark, we used to wander about and almost lose ourselves, and tell our adventures when we met. Herbert and Winifred used to go together, and I went another way alone; or we made friends with some of the grand old trees, and had stories about them, and—” "What sort of stories ?" said Bessie.

"Oh, stories of what they look like.”

"But what do they look like except trees ?"

"Oh, all sorts of things I can't explain. But there is one tall pine that grows all by itself on a hill, and all the high winds sweep over it, and once the lightning struck it, but it is not bent, only torn, and broken in some parts, and it still has some dark boughs to wave, for there is always wind up there. And that tree has a story.”

"Will you tell it me?" said Bessie, deeply interested; "but did you make the story ?"

"No, Winifred told it to me.

She made it. We

were looking at the bright sunlight on a larch that was quite young and light green, and then I turned to look at the tall pine, and said, that has borne many storms; and Winifred said, 'Yes; it is like a person who has gone through many stormy troubles, and can now bear everything calmly, except being separated for ever from his country.'

"Then do you think," said Bessie, "that having gone through many troubles makes it easier to bear calmly those that may follow ?"

"Yes; and that is what Winifred said, because he knows by experience that it is of no use to fret and be impatient about them; he did all he possibly could to prevent the great trouble, and then when it came he was calm."

"But what was the great trouble ?"

"I don't know."

"Was that all the story?"

"She said he could bear all except being separated from his country, or from people he loved; separated for ever she meant."

"But suppose he had to bear that too?”

"Yes, I asked Winifred what he would do then, and she said he would be resigned to it if it must be but she did not think he would ever be happy."

"What! always gloomy?"

"No, not gloomy, but very sad.

his friend, Winifred said."

"Is Winifred sad ?"

"Oh, no! so merry."

;

Sadness would be

"I like the story very much; I should like to hear Winifred talk like that. Does she do it often?"

"Yes, out of doors. I think trees, and mountains, and the sea make people clever in a sort of way."

"Then she does not do it in London ?"

"No, how could she; it is all dull, and ugly, and full of shops and people."

"But, Minna, ugly and dull! why people always talk of London being gay."

"Yes, I know; but I can never feel it so.

It may

be gay, at least the people may, not the place; and Winifred and I do not know them, so it is not very gay to us."

"But there may be stories about shops; I am sure I have read some, and very pretty ones too."

"Oh yes, so have I; only we could not make them, you know."

"No. Will you write down Winifred's tree-story for me, Minna? Not now, there is Margaret calling you, but when you have time."

"Yes, I will. I suppose Captain Maitland is gone, and now at last I shall have a talk with Margaret ;" and away ran Minna, leaving Bessie to reflect on the, to her, very singular tastes and talents of her cousin and sister.

CHAPTER IV.

BEATRICE

If thou shouldst never see my face again

Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer
Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice
Rise like a fountain for me night and day.
For what are men better than sheep or goats,
That nourish a blind life within the brain,

If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer

Both for themselves and those who call them friend.

A word, a look of shame or sadness

May check a sin ere sin be wrought;

A kinder tone, a purer gladness

TENNYSON.

May lure to Heaven a wanderer's thought.

SEWELL.

THE quiet country wedding was over. Margaret was gone, and the few guests who had been present, respecting the feelings of the family to whom the customary congratulations seemed to bring sorrowful thoughts, had quickly dispersed, all but the Fortrose family. Lord and Lady Fortrose and Winifred had come from London early, and Minna was to return with them.

Bessie had looked forward eagerly to Winifred's coming, but had not been able to see much of her, though they walked side by side in the bridal procession, following Rhoda and Minna up the aisle. Bessie looked at Winifred's bright sunny face, and wondered

why she thought of such sad things as Minna had talked about, but when she saw how very fond of Minna Winifred was, and heard her say how lonely she had felt all the week without her, the thought of keeping Minna at King's Holm, which had still haunted Bessie's heart, seemed too selfish, and she quite pitied Winifred for the week's privation.

The parting with Margaret once over, the four young bridesmaids spent a very happy afternoon.

Bessie was lying on the sofa, somewhat tired with the excitement of the day, but quite able to enjoy the liveliness of the others. Minna indeed was rather grave and silent as she sat at the foot of Bessie's sofa, but Harry and Frank, who were charmed with Winifred's brightness and good-nature, kept up with her an untiring flow of merry talk, in which Rhoda sometimes joined. Harry's ship being fortunately in port, he had got a few days' leave for his sister's marriage; he had much to tell that was amusing, and Winifred was a capital listener.

If she sometimes checked the young sailor's ready wit, and invention, by a grave "is that true ?" the implied reproach was completely softened by the intense appreciation of fun that danced in her eyes, and Harry felt flattered, and reproved, at the same time.

Bessie admired Winifred's powers, for Harry had never seemed more pleasant, and she hoped Rhoda, who never could bear anything like exaggeration, would learn to check it as cleverly as Winifred did, without offending Harry; but Winifred had in truth no idea she was effecting so desirable an object, by her simple expressions of half-wondering remonstrance.

The time seemed only too short when the evening