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One night, n IK >ioca, a* I went to the closot, 1 ToaA iu iu place to deposit, A Karinemo I board bu helvei, Wharehii tbuouolv That I pu- ' And Immd, I talking. Raid one, iu How uioly I Hut now, "i quMr uoiae U|<ou one of the I buoka all stood in a row by 1)10 door, ai in I was walking, . wonder, lhx> ubool book* were i : ;b. 1 am sure you ronituibur 'luyi'ir since iu September, tod out. in the wildest of rages, .' 1 cover, " j uut look at my pages ! "I do It is roally a mystery, Maltr. aim;; its a ' L'uito I States Hlntorv.' " Xheaabo k side bowed low, ai to please her, And said, -J -.-.viupathiEo ; I'uiTom'i'Cwaar,' 1'iu ueariy w - it. aud ho never truuslatea mo roundly lio 'perfectly haul , Atltflungb And bow bo < K Without M An 1 wiuhi". tnrable by writing in by tbet rtuu thwack.-. '. 'C bai saved biin the I could nl Olllrll And uow I d Then said tlm "My luti-ri' ! Be pays uo rv suras, My (not* a tTfUhllll' And uiyaelt u Btata, If we obox-, Tbi-n the K In tbe very KIT Torn U m , I weku bun And be prom .liab.' I'm nearly bentdoublo i gives wo, tbe thumping!, the apped down upon little boys' rn tbo year through oue good ' 'c" aaid tbe noble old Komaii. . iin.-ti..-, >i>uaking null* griui i of inioretl to him. : i to mjr Weighti and my Moa- : juaro roots and the rest of uiy lycoiaradoiu arms thin good i . could a sail itory relate." tho urmmumr, ami all, tcitined y. 'Twas a blow lomv pride, y, butasnoLinM'twaaniurulng M bim thli talc for a warnti .it unco, wlR-u hi board of their That be nun . uid treat thorn so rode aeaba. PHYLLIS. . TUI UCCI1KM. Author of , i.awi:.' "Tbe liaby." "Airy y Lilian," etc , etc. ClUrTLB XI At lavi 1 . >w late you are I I thought you were coining," in Mr. Carring- (OQ'H nor .. impaueut greeting next evening, u .uoes to nieot ma (rom under thi oak-tree. My obeeku are flashed v.i i rapidity o! tuy walk; my breath ru >in uie in Bborl, >j oiok, little iuy I could not come a mo- ment noon would not be here at all but that I lined, and was afraid yon would th i. . jus of my senses yester- day," I H. ii A aud panting. " I oeri . . .nought you rather tragical, and have i -n puz/.:iui: my brain ever since to di .c: the oauMo. Now, tell it to me." " If I d vill think uio horribly can ceiled." I t*te aud blush uneasily. For the h-; 5 li'jie it occ jrs to me that I have a verj . iiiifortable Htory to relate. " I will ; i, says Mr. Carrington, ami- ably. " Well t i, .10 fact it down at the trout- riv<ir, the" . !-fore yesterday, somebody saw you k .. . picture io a lookel, and I feared if > .. ulioned having my portrait they migbi-~lijey take up euob ridiculous fancies at ..> they might think II was mine. " Is il pu ,:i i< they would imagine any- thing SO Uu-;iu;.> ?" "Otcou-t,' - *ith eager baste "/know il was nui, b d -ley might choose te think differeutl. . . besides, something has whispered to .. -, two or three times since that perb*v*> '- was wrong in giving my photograph to yon at all. Wau I ?" wist- fnlly. " That I hard question to ask me, Phyllis, wb - ,1 so happy in the possession of it. Ice- ..J> do uot think yon were." " Theu *ould see no barm in my giving my i.. re to any one?" Ot oou. i .) not say it would be right of you to gi . . ut giving it to every man you meet. " No? T'. ; why should I give it to yon in particul. . After all, I believe I was wrong." " Ob, th* i. quite another thing alto- gether," ka, ir. Carrington, biting bis lip. " You have . .wu me a Icinj time ; I may almost be c aered au old friend. And, besides, y: oaa be quite sore that I will pri/3 it ax . -erves." "That u 'n,mg very little," I return, gloomily. reason ing seems ta ms poor and unsitiM ^ >ry. I begin to wish my wretched 1. >.: HS back again in my nutidy drawer. " Bnt why nr-j you sure it was not yonr picture I w . i tught admiring the other day?" atk . i.-. Oarrington, presently, with anill-supir i Mtmlg. "Noni<e:i: !' I reply angrily. (I hate being laugi :-\ at). " For what possible reason wo. locket? I wben I be* very sorrj to yon at .. " Forgiv offend y i/ . was merrl fool I mti- the act y >u put my face into your c you would think m vain ', but I am not and 1 am .* tbo trouble to explain it ins, Phyllis. I did not mean to . . i do not think you vain. I i&gining what a fastidious ..liv.i looked when discovered in : cribe. But have you no curiosity t . i wbo it really was I was so publicly e I ing?" " I Jknmr ulurn, with a nod ; " It was that little K "' you told me of Home time since tbi . o maiden, you remember, hosefact . HO ilcur to you. Am I not right t" \Vb-t;, a capital guess you 1 Quite r made I" ' May 1 let me get j sure she i I do so like Tou * then you bear to li jy beaut). ' I will n you have I von your Please lei . or?" 1 ask ooaxiu^ly. " Do <uo little peep at bar. lam 1 , from what juu say ; and t-y people?* uly be dhappoioted, and 1 say HO, and I could not d diiparaging word said of to disappointed. Of course ' i tnuoh exparienoo to guide mint bo bxtter than mine. hor." ' You \> i faithfully not to Miorn tbe VM I will w you? Yni will nay no Migbtiog " "I will teed. IIow could you thick would b. i- uie? " Very , ' Be raiaen his watcb-ohain and detao 1 - Trom i', a plain gold locket. I draw ne - 'id gazo at it eagerly. What will she bi :i'.*., ibia rival of Djra's?" " Now, i uber," lie nay attain, while look of i., .i-e amusement crowen hi* (ace, " yen ) ive promised to admiro?" "Yee, >i.'. I answer impatiently; and at be delib-nuely openx tbe trinket I lean forward ei . <re into tbe large gray-blue ayes of Ph) Marinn Vernon. sompanion. lie appeari grave now, anc rather anxious. I know 1 am ai white an " So yon have put me into a lookel too,' say, in a low tone. " Why '.'" "Do not nee tbe word ' too,' Pbyllii. You have no rival ; I keep no woman'* face ear me except yours." " Tben it watt au uotrnth you told me bout thvt girl?" tlo, it wan not. Will you not try to tuderstand? You are that little girl; it <vas your face I kiteed tbe other day down by tho river. There u no face in the world 1 bold so dear an yours." " Tben you had no right to kiss it," I break oat indignantly, tuy surprise and bewilderment making me vehement. did not givo you my picture to put in your locket and treat iu that way. How dare you carry me all over tbe place with yon- making tbmga BO unpleasant everywhere? And, beaidee, you are talking very falsely ; It is impossible that any une could think me beautiful. " / do," says he, gently. " I cannot help it. You kaow we all judge differently. And M to my kianing it, eurely that waa no great harm ? It became mine, you know, when you gave it to me ; aud for me to kiss it now and then cannot injure you or it." He gazes down tenderly upon tbe face lying in lim hand. " The Pbyllu here does not look M il she could be uckicd or unjust," he says, softly. I am impressed by the mildness of bis reproach. looeuhibly, 1 go closer to him, and regard with mingled feelings the inno- cent cause of all tbe duturbanoe. " It certainly looks wonderfully well," I ay, with reluctance. " It never appeared to me so ah paaablt before. 1 1 must be tbe gold frame. Somehow I never thought no until to-day but it seems much too pretty for tne." "Remember your promise," says Mr. Caningtoo, demurely, ' to admire and say no disparaging word." Yon laid a trap for me." I reply, smil- ing in spite of myself, aud bard set to pre- vent tbe smile turning into a merry laugb as I review the situation. I lean my back againitt the old tree, and, clasping my bauds loosely before me, begin to pieoe paat events. I have cot gone far in my meditations wbeu I become aware that Mr. Carrington has closed the locket, has turned, and is steadfastly regarding me. My hat lies on the ground beside me ; tbe wanton wind baa blown a few stray tresses of my hair across my forehead. Involun- tarily I raise my bead until our eyes meet. Something new, inditiuite, in bis, makes my heart beat with a auddeu fear that yet is nameless. "Pbyllii," whispers he, hurriedly, impul sively, " will you marry me ?" A long, long, pause. I am still alive, then I tbe skies have nor fallen I " What t" cry I, when I recover breath, moving back a step or two, aud staring at him witL (he most open and undisguised amazement. Can I have heard- aright? Is it indeed me be is asking to marry bim? And if so if my senses have not deceived me who is to tell Djra. This thought irinounts all others. " I want you to say you will marry me," repeats be, rather disconcerted by tbe emphatic astonishment at look and tone. As I make no reply tl.ii time, be is embold- ened, and, advancing, takes both my hands. Why do you look ao surprised ?" hs says. " Why will you not answer me? Horely for weeks you must have seen I wonld some time ask you this question. Tben why not today'.' If I waited for years I could uo! love you more utterly, more madly if you like, than now. And you, Phyllis say you will be my wife .'" "I cannot indeed," I reply earnestly; it is out of tbe question. I never knew yon you oared for me in this way I always thought that ID, we all thought you - " "Yes?" " We are all quite sure I mean none of us imagined you were in love with mr." With whom, then? with IJora?" Well" nervously " I am sure mamma and papa thought so, and so did I." What an atwurd mistake ! Ten thous- and Dora's would not make one Phyllis. De you know ever since that Mrst day I saw you in tbe wood I loved you ? Do you remember it?" Yes," I say blushing furiously. " I was banging from tbe unt tree and nearly went mad with i-hauie and rage when I found I oould not escape. Il puzzlee me to think what you oould have Heeu to admire about me that day, unless my boots." I laugh rather hysterically. " Nevertheless I aid love yon then, and hare gone on nursing the feeling ever since, until I can keep it to myself no longer. But you are silent, Phyllis. Why do yon not speak ? I vill not remember what you said just now ; I will not take a refuoal from you. Darling, darling, surely yon love me, it only a little 7" No, I do uat Icve yon," I answer with downcast lids and flaming cheeks. Silence falls upon my cruel words. Hit hand-olasp looeui>, but still be does not let me altogether go ; aud, giant-ing up timidly, I see a face like and yet unlike the faeo I know a face that m still and white, with lips that tremble slightly beneath tbe heavy fair mustache. A world of disappointed animish darkeos bis blue eyes. Seeing all thin, and knowing myself its cause, my heart IH touched aud a keen pang darta through my breant. I press his hands with reasinrlng force ax I go on hastily : But I likf you, you will understand. I may not lore, you, but I like yon very muoh indeed better than any other man I ever met, exotpt Holand aud Billy, and he is inly a boy." This is not a very clear or ogioal speech, but it does just as well ; it wrings the blood back to bis face, and a to his lips tbe light and fire to bis eyen. " Are you sure of that '.'" be asks, eagerly. ' Are you certain, Pbyllm ?" " Quite sure. But tbu I bavo never seen any men eioept Mr. MangaD, you know, aud tbe curate, and Boboy De Vere, and one or two otherx." " And these one or two oMiers" jealously " have I nothing to fear from tbrm ? Have yon Riven tli, m none of your thoughts?" "Not one," return I, entiling up at him. Tbe untile does more tban I intended. Then yeu mil marry me, Phyllis?" cries be, wilb renewed hope. " If you like me as yon say, I will make you love me ben once you are my own. No man could love as I do without creating someanwer- ing affection. Phyllis," he goes on passion "IK it"jnuu. x Hymn, ne goes on passion- Slowly 1 : use my head and look at my/ately. " look at me and say you believe all this. Ob, my lite, my darling, bow 1 have longed for you I tlow I have watched tbe hours that would bring me lo your aide I How I have bated the evening* that parted you from ms I Say one little kind word to me to make me happy." Hie tone is so full of hope and joy that almost I feel myself drifting with the our- reut of bis passion. But Dora's face riuiug before me checks tbe ooming words. I draw back. Phyllis, pnt me out of pain," be says, entreatingly. I bugin to find the situation trying, being a mere novice in tbe art of receiving and refuHiug proposals with pro- priety. I I don't think I want to get married yet," I say at length, with nervous gentle- near. I am very fearful of hurting bim again. " At home, when 1 auk ton) any where, they tell me I am still a child, and yon are runeh older than me. I don't mean that you are rid," I added anxiously, " only a good deal older than I am ; and perhapi when it ia too late you would repent the step you had taken and wish you had chosen a wife older s>ud wiser." I stop, amazed at my own eloquence and rather proud of myself. Never before have I made so long and HO connected a speech. Heally tbe " older and wiser" oould scarcely have done better. The marrying m haute and repenting at leisure allusion appears to me very neat, and ought to be tffeotive. All is going on very well indeed, aud I feel I oould continue with dignity to the end, bat just at this moment I become oon- acious 1 am going to nuet/.e. Ob, horrible, unromantio thought I Will Hotiiing put it baok for ten minutes for even jivtt I feel myself turning oniunou, and certain admonitory twitebings in my nose warn me the catastrophe is close at hand. "Of coarse." saya Mr. Carrington, in a low tone, " I know you are very young, (it is ooming) -" only seventeen. And, and," (turely ooming)" I suppose twenty- eight appears quite old to yon." (In another instant I shall be dicgraced for- ever.) " 1 look even older tban I am. But good gracious PhylliH, is anything tbe mat- ter with you ?" " Nothing, nothing," I murmur, with a last frantic effort at pride and dignity, only a enee eezs atchn atohn atchu I" There is a most awful pause, and then Mr. Carrington, after a vain endeavor to sop press il, bunt inl > an unrestrained tit of laughter, iu which without hesitation I join him. " Bnt, 1'hy HIM, all this time yon are keep- ing me in suspense," says Mr. Carrington. presently, iu an anxious tone : " and I will not leave you again wilbont a decided answer. This uncertainty kills me. Darling, I feel glad and tbaukful when Irsmemberhow happy I can make your life, if you will only lei ma. You shall uever have a wish uugratifled that is in my power to grant. StratiKemore nball be yours, and yon shall make what alterations there you choose. Yon shall have your own rooms, and furuisb them as yonr own taste directs. You i-hall reign there as tbe very sweetest queen that ever oame within its walli." He has passed bis arm lightly round my waist, and is keenly uotmg the eflicl of bis words. " I remember tbe other day you told me bow you longed to visit foreign lands. I will take yon abroad, aid you shall may there as long as you wiih until you b na everything your fancy bai pictured to you. You will like all this, Phyllis ; il pleases yon." There if no denying it. All this </<". please ms. Nay, more ; it intoxicatee me. I am heart-whole, and therefore can freely yield myself up to the enjoyment of tbe visions be has conjured up before me. I feel I am giving io swiftly and surely. My refusing to marry bim will not make him a whit more aniioos to marry Dora ; and instinct tells me now she IB utterly uniuited to him. Ktill I am reluctant. II Would yon let me have Billy and maroms and Dora with me very often ?" I ak faintly. His arm round me tightens suddenly. "As often as ever yon wish," be says, with strange calmness. "1 tell jou you shall be my queen at Strangemore, and yonr wishes shall be law." II And" here I blush crimson, and my voice sinks to a whisper " there is some- thing else I want very, very much. Will yon do it for me .'" I will. Tell me what it ie." His tone is so quiet, so kind, I am enoonr- aged ; yst I know by tbe trembling of the hand that holds mine tbat the quiet is enforced. "Will yon send Billy to Eton for me?" I say, my voice shaking terribly. " 1 know it is a very great thing to ask, but he so '.on in to go." II 1 will do better tban tbat," be answers softly, drawing me oloeer to bim as be sees bow soon I shall be his by my own consent. " I will settle on you any money you wish, and you shall send Billy to Eton, and after- wards to Oxford or Cambridge." This assurance, given at any other time, would have driven me half mad with delight. Now, though my heart feels a strong throb of pleaaure, it is largely nun (led with what I know in pain. Am I sell- ing myself? Some finer instinot within me whispers to me to pause before giving myself irrevo- cably to a man whom I certainly do not ove as a woman should love the one with whom she elects to buffet all the storms and trials of life. A horrible thought lines to me and grows on my lips. I feel 1 must give it utterance. " Suppose," I say, suddenly, " suppose afterwards wben I hava married you, 1 see some one to love with all my heart and mind ; what then ?" He sbiverr. He draws me passionately, almost fiercely to him, <A though defying my miserable words to come true. ' What put such a deteatable idea into .our head '.'" ,he asks hoarsely, with pale ips. "Are you trying to frighten me? Shall I tell you bow that would end ? You would be in v murderess u iturely as though .011 drove a knife into my beart. What au ml thought ! But I dely it," be says, Arcing a smile. " Once you ars mioe, once ou belong to me altogether, I will bold n against yourself against tbe world. )n. Phyllis, my child, my lovt " He pauses, and, puttiog bis band under my chin, tarns up my f>09 until my head eans against his r.n and my eyes look straight into In*. Bis face is dangerously close to mine ; il comes closer, eioeer, until suddenly, without a word of warning, his lips meet mioe in a long, eager, passionate kiss. It U tbe first tims a lover's kiss has been laid upon my lips. I do not struggle or seek to free myself. I only burst into a storm of tears. 1 am frightened, troubled, and lie trembling and sobbing in bis arms, hardly knowing what I feel, hardly conscious of an) thing but a sense of shame aud fear. I know, too, thai Marmaduke'e beart is Dealing wildly against my obeek. "Phyllis, what is it? what have I done?" be asks, very anxiously. " My darling, was I too abrupt ? Did I frighten you ? Forgive me, sweet; I forgot what a sweet timid child you are." I aob on bitterly. " It shall not happen again ; I promise you tbat, Phyllis. I will never kiss you again until yon give me permission. Now eurely you will forgive me. My darling, why should it grieve yon so terribly '.'" " I don't know," I whisper, " only I do not want to be married, or have a lover, or anything " Maroiaduke lays his obeek very gently against mine, and for a long time there is mleuoe between us. After a while my sob* oease, and he onoe more breaks tbe silence by saying: "You will marry me, Phyllis?" aud I answer, " Yee," very quietly, somehow feeling as if that kiss had sealed my fate, and pot it oat of my power to answer No." " Then look at me," says Marmaduke, ten derly. " Will yon not let me see my dear wife's face?" I raise a face flashed and tear-stained and glmnoe at bim abyly for a moment. Evidently its dimmed appearance makes DO difference to him, as there is unmistak able rapture aud triumph in his gsze as he regards il. I hide it again with a sigh, though now the Rubicon being actually passed, I feel a sense of reft I bad not known before. " Wbo is to tell them at home ?" I ask presently. I will. Shall I go back with yon now and tell them at onoe "" " No, no," I cry, hastily shrinking from tbe contemplation of tbe scene that will inevitably follow nis announcement. II is too late uow. To-morrow about four o'clock yon oau come and get it ever. And, Mr. Carrington, will, will you please be lure to tell them I knew nothing of it never suspected, I mean, that yon cared for ms " That I loved you ? It wonld be a pity to suppress so evident a fact. Though how you oould have been so blind, my pet, puz- zles me. Well, then, to-morrow let it be Aud now I will walk home with you, lest any hobgoblin, jealous of my joy, should vpirit you away from me." Together and rather itilently we go tbrongh the wood and out into the road beyond. I am conscious that every now and Iben Marmaduke's eye* seek my face and dwell there with a smile in them that betrays his extreme and utter satisfaction. AH for me, I am neither glad nor sorry, nor anything, but rather fearful of the oonse ijuenoe wben my engagement shall be made public in tbe home circle. As yet my mar hags is a thing so faint, so far away in tbe dim distance, tbat it causes me little or no annoyance. Suddenly I stop short in tbe middle of tbe road and burst into irrepressible laughter. What is it? " asks Mr. Carrington, wbo is smiling ia sympathy. "Oh, that sneeze!" I say ben I can speak "ooming just in the middle of your proposal. Could anything have been so unsuitable, so utterly out of place ? Tbat odious little convulsion ! I shall always think of the whole scene with abhorrence. " Sappose I propose to yon all over again ?" suggests Mr. Carrington. " II is impossible you can bring it in so unforta nately a second time ; and }on osn then recollect tbe important event with more oomplaisanae." " No, no. A second edition wonld be flat, stale, and unprofitable ; and betides, it does not really matter, does it? Only I suppose it would be more correct to feel grave and tearful, instead of comical, on snob occasions." Nothing matters," exclaims Marmaduke, fervently, seizing my band and kissing it, " sinoe you have promised to be my wife. And toon, Phyllis is it not so?" ' Ob, no, certainly not MOM," I return, decidedly. " There is plenty of time. There is no hurry ; ard I do not want to be married for n-er so long." My lover's countenance falls. " What do you mean by ' ever so long?' " he asks. " Two or three years, perhaps." "Pbyllis! bow can you be so unreason- able, so abiurd .'" says he, his faoe flushing. " 'lie" yean t II is an eternity. Bay six mouths, if you will ; though even that is a ridiculous delay." " If you talk like tbat," I sa/, stopping to stare fixedly at bim, " I will not marry you at all. We bad better decide the ques- lion ot onoe. If you mean to say you think enously I will marry yon in tit monthi, all I can say is you are very much mistaken. I would not marry tbe Prince of Wales in MIX months ; there I If you onoe mention the subject to papa, and be discovers I do not wish to be hurried into the marriage, I have no donbt he will insist on my becom- ing a bride iu six day$. But rather tban lubmit to any tyranny in tbe matter I would run away and drown myself." I utter this appalling threat with every mtward demonstration of seriousness. Really the last hour has developed in a won- derful manner my powers of conversation. " Do you suppose," cried Marmaduke. with indignation, "I have any desire to (one you into anything 7 You may rest aiwured I will never mention the subject to yonr father. What do you take me for 7 You shall do juit as you think fit. Bur, Phyllis, darling" very tenderly, " won't vou consider me a little ? Remember how I shall be longing for you, and how unhappy will be wary day upent away from you. Ob, darling, you cannot comprehend bow every thouubt of my beart is wrapped up in yon how passionate and devoted is my love." He looks so handsome, HO muoh in ear- nest, as bs says thm, with hit fsoe llunhed and bis dark eyes alight, that I feel myself relenting. He sees his advantage and presses It. " You won't be oruel, darling, will yon ? Remember you bars all the power in your own hands. I would not, if I oould, compel you to marry me a day sooner tban you wish. And, Pbyllis, will you not try to think it Is for your happiness as well as for mine T In time you will learn lo love me as well no, (tat would be iuipui-nible bat almost as well as I love you 1'be entire devotion of a man's life mu*t meet with some return ; and I swsar u Him I not be my fault if every hour you n is not happier than the last. Bpeak, Pu)ii>~, and say you will come lo me in" "A year," I interrupt, hastily. "Yes, that is a grea. concession ; 1 >aid three years first, and now by a word 1 take off two. Tbat in twenty-four long luoi.ibs. 'Hunk of it. Yon oanuot expect more.' " It will never pass," says Marmauuke, desperately. " It will pass all too soon," say I, with a heavy aigb. CKUTKB XII. All that evening and all the next day I creep about as one oppressed with sin. As the hour approaches tbat shall lay bare my secret I feel positively faint, and heartily wish myself io my grave. Almost as the ball-clock, with its cus- tomary unoouthness, clangs out tour strokes, Mr. Carrington rides up to the door. As I sit iu an upper chamber like Elaine, but with what different emotions! watching my lover's commit, I oau see he in looking oppressively radiant, aud is actu- ally wbisthng. I begin to hate kim. How detestable a man looks wben whintiiDg ! He knocks a loud, determined, aud, as it seems to ms in my morbid fright, a trium- phant knock at tbe door, and rings tbe bell until it sends forth a merry peal tbat echoes through tbe passages. Now he is in the hall, and Billy and bs are laughing at some etupid j >ke, no doubt. Now he ia io tbe library ; now he has told papa it is a line day ; aud now it must be all over I I am too frightened to cry. Half an hour, an hour, go by. I long, yet fear, to open tbe door. Another quarter o( au hour elapses, and then mother's utep comes slowly along tbe aorridor outid,e. " Pbyllis.are you within ? open tbe door." It is mother's voiee, but iiaouudmitraugely cold. I open to her, and prtment a woebe- gone face to ber inspection. She co--nes in and comforts me tor a moment Hilently. Tben she speaks. v " Pbyllii 1 , 1 uever thought you deceit- ful," she says as severely as it is iu ber to say anything. "Mother,"! cry passionately, 'don't look at me like that. Indeed, indeed I am not deceitful. I knew notbiug about it when be asked me yesterday to marry bim. I was a great deal more surprised than even you are uow. I always thought it was Dora (and I wish with all my heart it WM Dors) ; but, though I refused bim at first, be said so much afterwards that I was induced to give in. Ob, mother, won't you believe me?" " But you must have met bim many times, Phyllis, before be asked you in mar- riagemany times of which we know nothing " " I did not, indeed. Whenever I saw him I told you except onoe, a long time ago wben we met in tut wood, with Billy. Bnt I was climbing a nut-tree tbat day, and was afraid to say anything of it, lest I should get into disgrsoe. Aud when we went for that drive ; and two or three times we met here ; and that was all. I am sure I do not know what made bim fall in love with nw, aud Dora so muoh prettier and more charming in every way. I don't believe he knows himself." " It is certainly most extraordinary," savs my mother, " and, I must add, very unfortunate. You will ackuowledge it looks suspicious. Your father is much dis- turbed about it ; and I really think Dora's heart must be broken, she is crying so bit- terly. If wo bad not all mads up our minds so securely about Dura it would not be eo bad ; but she was ure of it. And bis visits here were so frequent. I really do think be has behaved very badly." " It was a mistake altogether," 1 murmur feebly. " Yee, and a most unhappy one. I am sure I doL't know what it to be done about Dora. She insists upon it thai you secretly encouraged and took him away from ber ; and your father appears to sympathize with ker. " Tbat goes without telling," kreply bit- terly. Tben there follows a pauie, during which mother sighs heavily onoe or twice, and I do severe battle with my conscience. At tbe end of it I cry, suddenly " Mother, there is ons thing for which I do blame myself, but at flret it did not occur to me that it might be wrong. Ons day we were talking of photographs, Mr. Carringlon and I, and two days after- wards I gave bim mine. He put it in bis locket, and when Dora saw him down by the river it was it he was kissing. I never dreamed it could be mine until he showed it to me yesterday." " I kad forgotten to ask about tbat, Dora and your father were diwussing it just now, and Dora declared she was certain it had happened as you have now stated. Phyllis, if there has not been actual duplicity in your conduct, there has at least been much imprudence." " I know tbat, mother," I return discon- solately " This will greatly add to your discredit in the affair ; you must see that. Really," says mother, sinking into a chair, and sigh- ing again. ' this engagement, tbat should cause us all such pride and joy, is only a source of annoyance and pain." Tben I wont marry bim at all, mother," I cry, reoklesaly. I don't want to one bit ; and probably if I tell bim to-morrow I bate aud despise him he will not want to either. Or shall I write? A letter w,ll go far -jnioker." But mother ie aghast at this daring pro- posal. Because be has disappointed ber bopes in one quarter is no reason why she should lose bim altogether as a son-in-law. ' No, uo," she says in a slightly altered tone. " Let things remain as they now are. It is a good match for you io every sense of bbe word ; aud setting bim free would give Dora no satisfaction. But I wish il had all come about differently." With that flu- tarns from me and goes towards tbe door. My beart feels breaking. 11 Ob, mother, you are not going to leave me like tbm, are you ?" I burst out mise- rably. " Wben other girls get engaged, people are kind a id say nice things to them ; but nobody seems to oars about me, nobody wishes me joy. Am I nnthnnj to yon ? Am I to get only bard and ernsl words ?" Piteous sobs interrupt me. I cover my faoe with my bands. (To bs continued