the residence of his mother, Mildred, and the children. Mrs. Grey and her son left the farm, which Colonel Aicheson now owned, and came to live at Glen-Beck, where Robert Grey's presence was needed, since Walworth was obliged to be absent nearly the whole day at the University in M. Mildred was to take my place as governess for the children, but she entreated me so earnestly to remain with her a part of the summer at least, that I consented, though reluctantly, to do so, for Madame Merillat had already offered me a situation as teacher in her establishment. "Only think, Bessie," said Mildred one day, as she and I were together in my room, "how often the furniture of this apartment has changed ownership. What once belonged to your father, and to mine in turn, is now another's." "Yes," I said, "and I am reminded now, Mildred, that you never told me how its purchase by you came about." "Oh, it was all Walworth's doing," she returned. "When it was decided about your coming to us, Bessie, he suggested my going to 358 UPON THEMSELVES. the auction sale with him, in order to discover if possible the furniture of your own room. We found it just as you had left it, ready for the sale; not a single article had been removed. I assure you I was quite delighted when it all came home, and I had the pleasure of superintending its arrangement in the order I remembered to have been that of your apartment." At this moment Donald Ray, who had taken Poulett's place in the household, announced the presence of a gentleman in the drawing room. "Did he give you no name, Donald?" asked Mildred. "He bade me gie ye a bit card, but I ha' lost it," said Donald, fumbling in the pocket of his coat. "Here it is," I said, picking up a card from the floor of the hall, just outside the threshold. It had Dana Poinsett's name engraved on it. As I gave it to Mildred I covered the letters a moment from sight. "Be calm, Mildred," I said, as I removed my fingers from the name. Reading it at + once, she sank trembling upon a chair, covering her face with her hands. 'I cannot see him," she exclaimed; "Bessie, tell him. I cannot ;" and urging me again and again, I at length reluctantly de scended the stairs to meet Mr. Poinsett. The look of disappointment in his face was very apparent, as he beheld me enter. a polite but forced greeting, he asked, After "She sent me to you," I returned, “and Mrs. Forrester does not yet see any visitors." "Miss Wilmerton," he said with slight embarrassment, "may I beg you to return to Mildred and give her this?" As he spoke, he drew from his finger a small gold ring. 'Long ago, when she was a mere child, Mildred promised to refuse me nothing, so long as I kept this ring, which was to be a pledge of good-will between us. I urge her to keep faith with me, and meet me now." Taking the ring, I repaired to Mildred. She listened to the message I brought, but still refused to go. Then I dealt with her as I would with a refractory child. I made her + 360 UPON THEMSELVES. bathe her flushed face, arranged her disordered curls, and conducted her to the door of the drawing-room, waited to see her enter, and then withdrew to my own apartment. She came to me ere sunset, Dana Poinsett's promised bride. 66 CHAPTER XXIII. LONG LOOKED FOR, COME AT LAST. “ My friend, my friend, where art thou? Day by day Glideth like some dark, mournful stream away." ARABELLA STUART. ANA POINSETT'S resolve to marry Mildred had cost him a struggle. Beautiful as she was, and gifted beyond most women, the obstacle that presented itself in the fact that she was the daughter of a man who had disgraced himself by conduct that could admit of no excuse or extenuation, seemed for a time almost impossible to be overcome. But during her illness, when she was thought to be in the very grasp of the King of Terrors, he was taught how more than dear she was to him; how utterly beyond life he prized what seemed about to be snatched away; and then he made the resolu |