the event would be, and was in a state of some considerable perturbation. Oh, for Miss Georgina Browne to have been there present-she, who still cherishes the idiotic idea, that a person must ever remain in the position wherein they were born-and to have seen this rich planter, laying his title, wealth, name, homage, and a wedding ring at the feet of the handsome housemaid of Umberhurst !

Very graciously my Phillis received Mons. Dwanee's marriage proposals, and very delicately but very firmly declined their acceptance. She could not for any cause leave her young friend and companion, the Princess de Hastings.

"Not now, indeed; well, would she not take time to consider two months, four, five, six, and then accept?"

She would consider-yes, but the time could not be less than one year. Yes, at the close of one year from the present date she would give her unprejudiced answer.

And then nothing could move her from her decision or her womanly grace. When Mons. Dwanee had made his elaborate adieu, I flew to my Phillis, threw my arms around her neck in the very excess of grateful joy, and quite smothered her with my caresses. Papa was very grateful to her, so was dearest Leonora, who has found an able coadjutor in the beautiful La Philegra.

I was greatly interested in this little incident, but most in that Haidee had determined upon a thorough education of her dear friend; for from this great good must accrue. It was now two years since it was commenced upon, and lively as had been my expectations, my surprise, as Haidee had predicted, was very great when I met the quondam Phillis, of Umberhurst-now the clegant and very handsome Miss Williams. The good done was two-fold; for every advancing step made by Phillis, also advanced Haidee.

Leonora believed her cousin to be capable of high attain. ments, if she could only be won to feel an interest in each lesson, as separately given. She had most competent mas ters, and when their task for the hour was done, then would

Leonora divide the lesson up into poetic parcels, paint in glowing colors, or sing or explain it in most pleasing language, and so draw upon every point of interest until Haidee had mastered the whole.

This done, the little lady seemed lost in a storm of delight -springing upon Leonora's neck, covering her face with kisses, squeezing her round and dimpled arms, sometimes concluding her ecstacies by a gay frolic with Bettine, her maid.

Miss Georgina Browne would never have made of Haidee the progressive pupil, as did her fond and judicious cousin Leonora. Of this fact, our uncle Hastings was in time fully aware. It was not her English habit--not one of her highborn pupils ever had such vagaries-she could not depart from popular measures, that had hitherto been the rule of her life-no, no! Simply-Miss Browne had never struck the key note.

Captain Stanly Hastings had no definite plan for Haidee's future, was content that she should slowly progress in her studies and accomplishments, enjoy her daily life with its allotted measure of happiness, and be his constant companion and friend.

Early in the summer, my father and uncle removed with us to the city of Munich, leaving us there to extract and receive whatever good we might from its literary institutions, its paintings and sculpture, its palaces and churches, by sailing upon the Isar and the Danube, to live and enjoy all the good we could possibly receive into our souls, while they, papa and uncle, went away off to Norway and Sweden, to see the copper mines of Fahlun, and to catch a passing glimpse of those twilight countries, where there is a low civilization-few virtues and few vices. * * * It did not enter into my plan at the beginning, to write my 'Travels,”—I have not done it. It only remains to be said, that they ended one year after our arrival at Munich, by our return to our own country, and our arrival at eventide at Glenelvan.

CHAPTER XIII.

"The dearest spot on earth to me,

Is home, sweet home."

Now, indeed, we were at home, at home amid all its great joys, its duties and its interests.

I had brought letters from Leoncra to her mother, Fan and Belle, to an almost incredible amount, a few from uncle Hastings and Haidee and "La Philegra."

Miss Standish was still at our house and most happy to receive us, but all in a calm orderly way.

I gave Susan one whole week to stay with her mother to relate the wonders she had seen across the water, meantime having Polly up with me occasionally, to learn her ways and character.

We had been absent, my father and I, three full years. I would make no premature efforts to show what I had seen and learned, I could not. These must be lived out in the deeds and suggestions of my future life. There was little change in my own home. Hans and Monica appeared precisely as they did three years before. John was somewhat sturdier. Yoppa, a good natured lad of nineteen, bashful and ruddy. Meta, an inch and a half taller, obliging and good natured, the keenness of the sorrow for her sister's death having slowly faded from out her fair face, and leaving in it an expression which was gentle and subdued, a kind of summer twilight air, which pleased and satisfied me entirely.

Fan and Belle came over from Umberhurst in a twinkling. They had certainly made good improvement under the auspices of their most competent teacher. But Miss Georgina Browne was now married to a Mr. Felix Morceou, a wealthy widower, the father of several young children, and now liv

ing in Fifth Avenue, New York city. He, Morceou, had met Miss Browne about a year before, when she was on a visit to the Metropolis, whither she had gone in company with aunt Frances, Fan and Belle.

The Morceou was perfectly enamored of these many charms. She was certainly in many ways an estimable lady, and aunt Frances bestowed upon her high praise.

Miss Browne would not consent to have a wedding, nothing above an elegant breakfast-not a single guest. Plain Mr. Shaw, the village minister, was called to pronounce the marriage ceremony, with only the family present, and the now sublime Mrs. Felix Morceou stept into her husband's elegant carriage, and left Umberhurst upon a fashionable wedding tour. It was evident that when this young lady received her last quarter's salary from aunt Frances, their relations to each other ceased.

The parting was perfectly elegant, on aunt Frances's side, it was kind, on that of the bride, very graceful—her manner said "Good morning, friends. If our acquaintance is ever renewed, do not forget that I am Mrs. F. Morceou, No. 0000 Fifth Avenue, N. Y."

And that was the end. Another marriage had more interest for me! When dear Edith told me this, I lingered over a slip of paper, and found I had written abstractedly"Married, during my absence abroad, and to a stranger, Albertine Gunnison, aged 18. Lovely in life-Pshaw ! What nonsense! John, send round the ponies; I am going to take Miss Standish out for a drive-I think she is getting rather gloomy."

"I would have chosen, rather, that we leap into our saddles and take the bridle-path among the hills, but that-I have yet farther communications to make, which are better suited to a quiet drive."

We were soon seated in the light carriage, and bowling along the green lanes of Glenelvan, choosing at this time to avoid the high-road. Those farther communications being

made, joined to much pleasant talk, there ensued a pause, which I ended by saying

"Dear Edith, I am quite sure you have something of more interest than all this, yet to tell me !"

"Your conjecture is not groundless. A few weeks before your return, a friend, whom I think you have not forgotten, called with her husband to ascertain when you were to be expected home, and also left a request, to be informed of your arrival."

"That was kind. Pray who was the lady ?"

"Her name was Maria Grant, but she is now married toah, guess, for I think the gentleman is a friend of yours!"

"Impossible! Maria was receiving some attention from a Mr. Andrews, a young and very handsome man, but surely no friend of mine."

"That is not the name of the gentleman who is now her husband; but a very plain man-a Mr. Edward Marvin Noyes."

"Marvin Noyes ! my old playmate. Now, indeed, this is a very great surprise."

"Your playmate-yes-for he said, that you taught him to read, afterwards to write, and gave him his first lesson in elocution he repeating as instructed—' You'd scarce expect one of my age,' &c."

Ha, ha! how well I remember it.

Marvin's father was

a tenant of papa's, and lived in the third cottage, next to Patrick; was poor and improvident, somewhat intemperate too. There was a large number of children, but none of them were sent to school. Marvin, then an eccentric little fellow, was often up at the house for he often amused mamma, and was exceedingly fond of her-was always looking into books, and asking what they talked about. This led me to read to him, and then the idea struck me of teaching him to read; and, although he was several years older than I was, as my pupil, he was docile, and my task was light."