the eyelid fell as quietly; the forehead above it was as unruífled; and if the mouth had a subdued gravity that it had taken years to teach, it had neither lost any of the sweetness nor any of the simplicity of childhood. It was a strange picture that Mr Carleton was looking at-strange for its rareness. In this very matter of simplicity, that the world will never leave those who belong to it. Half sitting and half reclining, she had given herself to rest with the abandonment and self-forgetfulness of a child; her attitude had the very grace of a child's unconsciousness; and her face shewed that even in placing herself there she had lost all thought of any other presence or any other eyes than her own; even of what her hand and cheek lay upon, and what it betokened. It meant something to Mr Carleton too; and if Fleda could have opened her eyes she would have seen in those that were fixed upon her a happy promise for her future life. She was beyond making any such observations; and Mrs Renney gave no interruption to his till the breakfast bell rang.

room.

Mr Carleton had desired the meal to be served in a private But he was met with a speech in which such a confusion of arguments endeavoured to persuade him to be of another mind, that he had at last given way. It was asserted that the ladies would have their breakfast a great deal quicker and a great deal hotter with the rest of the company; and in the same breath that it would be a very great favour to the house if the gentleman would not put them to the inconvenience of setting a separate table; the reasons of which inconvenience were set forth in detail, or would have been if the gentleman would have heard them; and desirous especially of haste, on Fleda's account, Mr Carleton signified his willingness to let the house accommodate itself. Following the bell, a waiter now came to announce and conduct them to their breakfast.

Down the stairs, through sundry narrow turning passages, they went to a long low room at one corner of the house; where a table was spread for a very nondescript company, as it soon proved, many of their last night's companions having found their way thither. The two ladies, however, were given the chief posts at the head, as near as possible to a fiery hot stove, and served with tea and coffee from a neighbouring table by a young lady in long ringlets, who was there probably for their express honour. But, alas for the breakfast! They might as good have had the comfort of a private room, for there was

none other to be had. Of the tea and coffee, it might be said as once it was said of two bad roads—" whichever one you take, you will wish you had taken the other;" the beefsteak was a problem of impracticability; and the chickens-Fleda could not help thinking, that a well-to-do rooster which she saw flapping his wings in the yard, must, in all probability, be at that very moment endeavouring to account for a sudden breach in his social circle; and if the oysters had been some very fine ladies, they could hardly have retained less recollection of their original circumstances. It was in vain to try to eat or to drink; and Fleda returned to her sofa with even an increased appetite for rest, the more that her head began to take its revenge for the trials to which it had been put the past day and night.

She had closed her eyes again in her old position. Mrs Renney was tying her bonnet-strings. Mr Carleton was pacing and down.

up

"Aren't you going to get ready, Miss Ringgan?" said the

former.

"How soon will the cars be here ?" exclaimed Fleda, starting up.

66

Presently," said Mr Carleton; "but," said he, coming up to her and taking her hands-"I am going to prescribe for you again-will you let me ?"

Fleda's face gave small promise of opposition. "You are not fit to travel now.

quiet rest before we go any further."

You need some hours of

"But when shall we get home?" said Fleda.

"In good time-not by the railroad-there is a nearer way that will take us to Queechy without going through Greenfield. I have ordered a room to be made ready for you-will you try if it be habitable?"

Fleda submitted; and indeed there was in his manner a sort of gentle determination to which few women would have opposed themselves; besides, that her head threatened to make a journey a miserable business.

"Cannot you induce

"You are ill now," said Mr Carleton. your companion to stay and attend you ?" "I don't want her," said Fleda. Mr Carleton, however, mooted the question himself with Mrs Renney, but she represented to him, though with much deference, that the care of her property must oblige her to go

where and when it went. He rang, and ordered the housekeeper to be sent.

Presently after, a young lady in ringlets entered the room, and first taking a somewhat leisurely survey of the company, walked to the window, and stood there looking out. A dim recollection of her figure and air made Fleda query whether she were not the person sent for; but it was several minutes before it came into Mr Carleton's head to ask if she belonged to the house.

"I do, sir," was the dignified answer.

66 Will you shew this lady the room prepared for her. And take care that she wants nothing."

The owner of the ringlets answered not, but turning the front view of them full upon Fleda, seemed to intimate that she was ready to act as her guide. She hinted, however, that the rooms were very airy in winter, and that Fleda would stand a better chance of comfort where she was. But this Fleda would not listen to, and followed her adviser to the half-warmed, and certainly very airy apartment which had been got ready for her. It was probably more owing to something in her own appearance, than to Mr Carleton's word of admonition on the subject, that her attendant was really assiduous and kind.

"Be you of this country?" she said abruptly, after her good offices, as Fleda thought, were ended, and she had just closed her eyes.

She opened them again, and said, "Yes."

“Well, that ain't in the parlour, is he?" "What?" said Fleda.

"One of our folks?"

"An American, you mean?-No."

'I thought he wa'n't-What is he?"

"He is English."

"Is he your brother?"

"No."

The young lady gave her a good look out of her large dark eyes, and, remarking that "she thought they didn't look much like," left the room.

The day was spent by poor Fleda between pain and stupor, each of which acted in some measure to check the other-too much exhausted for nervous pain, to reach the height it sometimes did, while yet that was sufficient to prevent stupor from

sinking into sleep. Beyond any power of thought, or even fancy, with only a dreamy succession of images flitting across her mind, the hours passed, she knew not how; that they did pass, she knew from her handmaid in the long curls, who was every now and then coming in to look at her, and give her fresh water; it needed no ice. Her handmaid told her that the cars were gone by-that it was near noon-then, that it was past noon. There was no help for it; she could only lie still and wait; it was long past noon before she was able to move; and she was looking ill enough yet, when she at last opened the door of the parlour and slowly presented herself.

Mr Carleton was there alone, Mrs Renney having long since accompanied her baggage. He came forward instantly, and led Fleda to the sofa, with such gentle, grave kindness, that she could hardly bear it; her nerves had been in an unsteady state all day. A table was set, and partially spread with evidently much more care than the one of the morning, and Fleda sat looking at it, afraid to trust herself to look anywhere else. For years she had been taking care of others, and now there was something so strange in this feeling of being cared for, that her heart was full. Whatever Mr Carleton saw or suspected of this, it did not appear. On the contrary, his manner and his talk on different matters was as cool, as quiet, as graceful, as if neither he nor Fleda had anything particular to think of; avoiding even an allusion to whatever might in the least distress her. Fleda thought she had a great many reasons to be grateful to him, but she never thanked him for anything more than at that moment she thanked him for the delicacy which so regarded her delicacy, and put her in a few minutes completely at her ease as she could be.

The refreshments were presently brought, and Fleda was served with them in a way that went, as far as possible, towards making them satisfactory; but though a great improvement upon the morning, they furnished still but a substitute for a meal. There was a little pause then, after the horses were ordered.

"I am afraid you have wanted my former prescription today," said Mr Carleton, after considering the little-improved

colour of Fleda's face.

"I have, indeed." "Where is it?"

Fleda hesitated, and then, in a little confusion, said she supposed it was lying on Mrs Evelyn's centre-table.

"How happens that?" said he, smiling.

"Because I could not help it, Mr Carleton," said Fleda, with no little difficulty; "I was foolish-I could not bring it away."

He understood and was silent.

"Are you fit to bear a long ride in the cold?" he said, compassionately, a few minutes after.

"O yes; it will do me good."

"You have had a miserable day, have you not ?"

"My head has been pretty bad," said Fleda, a little evasively.

Well, what would you have?" said he, lightly; "doesn't that make a miserable day of it ?”

Fleda hesitated and coloured, and then, conscious that her cheeks were answering for her, coloured so exceedingly, that she was fain to put both her hands up to hide what they only served the more plainly to shew. No advantage was taken. Mr Carleton said nothing; she could not see what answer might be in his face. It was only by a peculiar quietness in his tone whenever he spoke to her afterwards that Fleda knew she had been thoroughly understood. She dared not lift her eyes.

It

They had soon employment enough around her. A sleigh and horses, better than anything else Quarrenton had been known to furnish, were carrying her rapidly towards home; the weather had perfectly cleared off, and in full brightness and fairness, the sun was shining upon a brilliant world. was cold indeed, though the only wind was that made by their progress; but Fleda had been again unresistingly wrapped in the furs, and was, for the time, beyond the reach of that or any other annoyance. She sat silently and quietly enjoying; so quietly that a stranger might have questioned there being any enjoyment in the case. It was a very picturesque, broken country, fresh covered with snow; and at that hour, late in the day, the lights and shadows were a constantly varying charm to the eye. Clumps of evergreens stood out in full disclosure against the white ground; the bare branches of neighbouring trees, in all their barrenness, had a wild prospective or retrospective beauty peculiar to themselves. On the wavy white surface of the meadow-land, or the steep hill-sides, lay every variety of shadow in blue and neutral tint; where they lay not, the snow was too brilliant to be borne. And afar off, through a heaven. bright and cold enough to hold the canopy