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Un des symboles suivants apparattra sur la dernidrf) image de cheque microfiche, selon le cas: le symbols — ► signifie "A SUIVRE", le symbols V signifie "FIN". Maps, plates, charts, etc.. may be filmed at different reduction ratios. Those too large to be entirely included in one exposure are filmed beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to right and top to bottom, as many frames as required. The following diagrams illustrate the method: Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc.. peuvent Atre film6s d des taux de reduction diffirents. Lorsque le document est trop grand pour Atre reproduit en un seul clich6. il est filmi A partir de Tangle supirieur gauche, de gauche d droite. et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images n6cessaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la mdthode. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 1 TWO STORIES OP TWO GIRLS OC/T IN LIFE'S STORM. By IRIS. i gtontreal : WILSON'S PRINTING HOUSE. 1873. A :T r 4 MARA HOLMES. " What Is life ?" 'tis a delicate sliell, Flung up with eternity's flow, On time's bank of quicksand to dwell, And a moment its loveliness show. Gone back to its element, grand Is the billow that brought it on shore ; See, another is dashing the strand. And the beautiful shell is no more* MONTGOMBBY. a I %*4' |iKC(f, .-<*.- ^^ I h }l g P m bi MARA HOLMES; OR, WRECKED ON PASSION, i i1 In the chamber of a cottage, in a village on the bank of the St, Lawrence, Edward Holmes lay dying; by his side sat his eldest child, she held one of his emaciated hands in hers, and her swollen blue eyes rested sadly on his pale face j presently the door opened quietly, and a girl of fifteen years stepped softly to the bedside, and, before the gentle watcher could prevent it, stooped and pressed her crimson lips to the hollow cheek of the sick man ; at the touch he opened his eyes, and seeing that bright face bending over him he threw his arms around her and pressed her to his heart. 6 MARA holmes; " My darling, my precious one " he murmured while the tears fell quickly from his eyes. ** What is the matter Pa ? are you in pain or do I worry you?" <* No, no my child, I am pleased to have you here, sit down by me, I wish to speak to you." She obeyed, and in a low faltering voice he said, *' Mara, five years ago your mother left us, and went to a better land, and do you remember the last time she held you in her arms, you promised to be a good and dutiful child ?" ** Yes, Pa, I remember, and am I not good ?" *• You are indeed, ray dear, as much so as we can ex- pect you to be with such poor feeble ones to guide you; but T wish you to repeat that promise here to me, you are older now, and can understand and feel the solemnity of such a promise better; your sister Mary has since then been a mother to you ; I know you are grateful, and I hope that through all your life you will express your gratitude by trusting to her love and mature judgment; do you understand, do you promise ?" " I do. Pa, I know she is a good kind sister. OR, WRECKED ON PASSION. I will alwaya try to do as she wishes me ; but wait until you are well, you shall then see how good it is possible for a naughty girl like me to be." As she spoke she wound her arms round his neck and laid her soft cheek against his. ** There you must go now, and come again some other time," said her sister, gently disengaging her arms and leading her to the door, then returning she once more took her seat by the bedside. "Mary," said her father, " this is a great trust, but take courage, do not faint by the way, you have a friend in Him who hath promised to temper the winds to the shorn lamb, place all your trust in Him, He will never leave nor forsake you." As he ppoke his pale face grew paler, and his voice sunk to a whisper ; at that moment there was a knock at the door, and while Mary stood in speechless agony bending over her father their pastor, the Rev. Mr. Hurst, and his sister, entered ; the moment they saw Mr. Holmes they knew he was dying, and in- stantly summoned the doctor, but medical skill was of no avail ; he calmly bade them farewell, and clasping Mara's hand his spirit took its flight. Mary and Emma 8 MARA HOLMES ; f his second child) were prepared for this, but Mara, who had not known of her father's dan<^cr, could not realize that ho was dead, threw herself on his inanimate form and begged him to speak to her once more ; but those pale lips were sealed for ever, and orphan Mara begged in vain. There was a quiet funeral, and another hillock raised beside the one that had been formed five yea^s before. Three weeks passed, mourning li;id been purchased and made up, and in these few weeks, short as they were, time had in a measure soothed the anguish in the hearts of the bereaved ones, and on this beautiful September night Mary, after breathing a prayer to heaven for strength, sat down with her face buried in her hands to think ; she saw herself floating out on life's stormy ocean buffeting with the waves that broke and lashed round her, while feeble hands clutched her for support, and pleading eyes gazed into her's for re assurance ; her own inability caused her heart to tremble, and she felt she must sink, when her father's dying words recurred, recalling her courage and strengthening her faith. 'cs, and the color folded from her cheeks, as she received this unexpected intelligence ; but there was no alternative, go they must ; so putting on their cloaks and hats th. - went; it was just growing dark, the lamps were being lit in the streets. As this was the first time they had been alone in the street after nightfall, they were almost bewildered as thoy tremblingly clung to each other and hurried alono- Notre Dame Street and up Beaver Hall Hill to Mis. Pope's, where Mary lived. Timidly they rang the bell, which was answered by the housemaid, who showed them up to the room in which Mary sat sewing. Emma threw herself into her sister's arms and burst into tears; Mara, feeling guilty and wretched, sank on the floor by her side sobbing hysterically. " What is the matter, my poor children, tell me quickly," said Mary, greatly alarmed. i 'm 14. MARA holmes; " It was I who did it all," burst out Mara. Oh I wish I was dead, I do, I do." " Hush ! hush !" said Mary as she gently smoothed her dark glossy hair and kissed her burning cheek. " Do tell me, Emma, whi t has happened?" Emma checked her sobs, and related all that occurred, lingcringly touching on the affection Mara had shown for her, regardless of its consequences. " Well I am glad it is no worse," said Mary, endeavouring to sooth them. ** I thought something dreadful had happened ; however it is quite bad enough. I am very much puzzled what to do. Mara, my dear girl, if you could but crush that temper/' Raising her from the floor she continued, " it has pleased our heavenly father to place us in a very humble position in this life, and we must be reconciled to it ; it was very provoking to Mrs. Wells to have her silk stained, and although it was very wrong in her to act as she did, yet it was much more so for you ; you should respect those that are older than yourself, and the bible says that *' A soft answer turneth away wrath," and no doubt had you spoken gently to her in behalf of your sister she OR, WRECKED ON PASSION. 15 would have forgiven her, and all would have been well. I do not say this to reprove you, it is to caution you for the future ; but dear 3Iara you should pray constantly that heaven may help you to conquer that fiend that nestles in your breast. Now stop crying my child, and T will go and speak to Mrs. Pope about you." She left tiie room for a few minutes, then returned with Mrs. Pope's permission for them to remain with her until situations could be found for them. The following day they succeeded in getting Emma employment in a mil- linery establishment, where she was to act as saleswoman and learn the trade ; it was more difficult to get A" ara settled, as she shranlt from entering a work-room alone, for Mary had concluded to separate them, for fear of a repetition of what had already occurred. At last Mrs, Pope thought oi an old friend of her's who kept school, so calling on her one day, she spoke of Mara, the old lady agreed to take her as an assistant ; this quite delighted Mara, and in due time she entered upon her new duties. Thus a year passed away ; Emma's term of apprentice- ship expired with it, and having made satisfactory arrangements with her employer she remained with her. 5" It ' ,1 I; t \t VI I ; VI ' 16 MAUA liOLMKS ; AJara too had progressed considerably, but now the old lady's health had declined, so she was necessitated to ,.oars to have a special interest 5> 111. .' What do you mean. Alice ? why do you speak so to me?" said Mara, drawing hack, deeply hurt by the tone and gesture. " 1 mean exactly what 1 s;iy. „ ,;,u why do you say so? you know he has no interest whatever in me." .. And I know also you would like him to have, you sat in a bad place last night, I saw all in the narror opposite, you .looping your head so pe.Mvely, and he passing his hand over it so caressingly." " You know, Alice, that hymn you sang always makes me sad." . « Sad ! Bah ! a trick to excite sympathy, for pity is akin to love," sneered Alice. .< Alice Christie, how dare you say so," burst out Mara, " I am above dissimulation, whatever you kv.o^v Of ■9^ OK, WRECKFJ) ON PASSION. 35 about trickery, [ oaro rjot, l)ut do not dare to accuj^o me of it." *'IIusli! husl) ! Mara, liere comes Walter," said Alice, laying l.er hand on Mara's shoulder. " Goawav, I care not," said Marn, pushing her forcibly from her, just as Walter entered the room ; as she turned to oo out, Walter held out his hand to detain her, but she brushed past him with haughty step and ilaming ehe(;k ; he then turned to Aliee, who had dropped pouting into a seat with tearful eves. *' What is the matter, Alice," he said. " Nothing worth speaking about, but Mara is so hasty tempered." " Yes, she seems to be rather hot, but surely ; n outburst such as that is of rare occurrence, for I have never seen it before." ** You have not, but I iiave." A look of pain crossed his face, but as he saw her bright blue eyes bent intently on liim he (piickly smiled, and drawing a new book from his poeket, he turned the conversation, and by dinner time, Alice had resumed her usual gayety ; but poor Mara, who ■i I ■■If ! ii: I' Mil; 36 MARA HOLMES ; had spent the intervening hour alono, appeared at the table with swollen eyelids and pale sad face. After this time did not pass so pleasantly, Mara grew more and more reserved and silent ; Alice frequently fret- ful, and Walter, ignorant of the cause of the breach between them, was more assidous than ever to both. Mara often thought of leaving, for her feelings revolted at the thought of being ever watched with suspicion by Alice, but still she lingered. One beautiful even- ing in autumn, Alice having a headache retired after dinner, and Mara went alone into the parlor, opened the window, drew a cushion to it and seated herself to watch the undulations of the broad expanse of water before her ; an object on its surface caught her eye, and after watching it long and earnet-tiv, with a weary sigh she dropped her head on her arm, and bright tears fell from her eyes. •* Mara, Mara," said Walter, who had quietly ap- proached her. ** Bitterness, bitterness," she replied, half laughing, half crying, as she dashed the tears away. *' But why bitterness?" r OR, WRECKED ON 1»ASSI0N. 37 *' I5eoauso thcro is nothing that could bo n.ore suit- a»'lc>, I think ; those who named me must have had a prescience of what my Iifo was to be." - Nonsense ! Mara, your life will yet be so sweet that Mara will be changed into Myrrh; you must look at the bright side/' " There is no bright side ; see, there is an object floating on the water, emblematic of myself; look how it is dashed about from one wave to another ; now sub- merged, again appearing, now caught in an eddy to be whirled round and round without rest, no matter how wearv.'* With a quivering sigh, she sank back on the cushion, and again laid her head wearily down on her arm.' Wishing to divert her, he spoke of himself, recounting his life ; he went on rapidly and earnestly, she followed ; her face glowing with pleasure as he related incidents pleasurable to hiuiself, or clouding, when his life clouded. " And the future, Mara," he said, drawing closer to her with a warmer pressure of the hand, as he gazed into her upturned face, <* a great measure of its happi- ness depends on you." % i m 1: I -. 38 MARA HOLMES *, iL '' Mv dear children, what are you thinking of, sit- ting there with that cold wind blowing in upon you ; enough to give you your death," said Mrs. Christie as opening tlie door she caught sight, of them ; and the words that wouM have turned Mara into Myrrh were never spoken. If Alice had cause for suspicion before, there was none after this, for Walter's preference for Mara was quits marked ; she did not cliaiige her man- ner toward either, but her thoughts were ever buLny with how bho would supplant her ; she finally con- cluded that Mara herself should work out her ends, and now she only watched the opportunity. One afternoon, r3 the two girls sat together, Alice by the window, busy with some fancy work, Mara near her by the table, with pencil in h^md, idly sketching a.- she talked ; presently there was a pause in the conversr tion. Alice went steadly on witi) her work, until looking up she saw Mara bending over the paper before her with an earnest smiling face, she leaned slightly towards her and saw she h.ad traced a dit^tinct outline of Walter's features ; she drew back, Ldanced at the clock, then along the road, then back to OR, WRCKED ON PASSION. 39 her work alternately until Mjira laid her ])encil down and sat contemplatively with her eyes on her work. Alice did not disturb her, until the sound of an ap proaching carriage reached her ear, then quickly leaving her seat, she caught the paper ; with an exclamation Mara caught her hand, but Alice dexterously transfer- red it to her other hand, as looking at it she burst into a loud, derisive laugh ; Mara colored deeply and 1 it her lips in vexation. " My drar Mara, this is splendid, I must show it to Walter; how highly flattered he will feel to think that j/o?/,...," and she curled her lip scornfully, '* treasure his image so carefully that you can transfer it with perfection at will to paper ; is this, may I ask, the inspiration of love ? And a^ain she broke into a mocking laugh. Fighting bravely with the storm within, Mara, still silent, rose to go, but Alice held her ; she heard the carriage stop, and a footstep in the hall; so she con{inue<), " vou nuu,^htv p^'rl are von never going to give me your confidence umI I take such an interest in you ; come, tell me now, after all the trouble you have taken to entrap him, have you any prospect of success ?" i*i I ((. m I h ^'t 40 MARA nOLMES; Mara could stand no more ; she caught Alice by the arm and shook her violently, as she burst out, ^* You hateful, mean, suspicious thing, how dare you iosult me in this manner; I feel like crushing... " She stopped suddenly, for there stood Walter in the doorway, apparen tly struck with astonishment. " O Mara, Mara, dc not speak so," said Alice, put- ting her handkerchief to her oyes and dropping into a seat ; Walter casting a cold stern look on Mara apolo- gized for intruding, and turned away, and Mara, heart and soul sick, went to her room, threw herself on the bed, and wept unrestrainedly. *' O Mary ! Mary," she sobbed, " had I listened to you and sought divine aid to conquer this enemy, how happy would I have been to-day ; but trusting to my own strength, what a wretched creature I am." The next day she told Mrs. Christie she was going to leave them ; the old lady all unconscious of what had occurred, urged her to remain, but Mara was invin- cible. On the afternoons previous to the one fixed for her departure, Alice went out alone to walk, while Mara 'II ill OR, WRECKED ON PASSION. 41 ra went to her room, and was soon busily engaged in packing. The afternoon passed quickly away : she did not notice the time nor the change going on out- side, until the room became suddenly darkened ; going to the casement, she opened it and looked out ; the wind blew fiercely and the clouds grew denser each moment, showing strong indications of the rapid ap- proach of a violent storm. ** Where can Alice be " thought she, " she will be drenched through, 1 must go and meet her.'* Hastily equiping herself for her walk, she took Alice's waterproof cloak, and hurried along the beach in the direction she knew Alice had gone, expecting each moment to meet her ; bat she walked on and on, it growing darker each moL^ent, until she could but see a short distance be- fore h )r. Suddenly a scream of terror, sharp and clear, r jached her ; she stopped, looked toward the lake, and saw straight before her, two or three yards from shore, a little boat which the current would have soon carried out, only that the strong wind drove it back to shore, and in it sat Alice with palid face, rras^'ng the side of the boat with mortal fear. ** Save I r II' :if w ' 1 ; 42 MARA HOLMES ; me, save ine," she shrieked, Mara glanced quickly round, no one was near, and the howling wind almost drowned that fast failing voice ; again she turned toward the boat. Alice was leaning far over the side of it, it was in danger of being capsized. " Let her go," whispered the tempter, *' she stands between you and Walter" This t« ^'^^ thought broke the spell that rooted her whfre she i.wod, she now dashed into the icy lake anil waded out just in time to catch it as it floated down ; as she caught it, it whirled round, almost jerking it from her hands ; but with the strength of one who was mad she held it, and with much diffi- culty pushed it to land, then sank to the grounu com* pletely exhausted. Alice sprang from the boat and stooped to raise her, but she dropped that cold stiff hand in affright and sped along the road to the nearest house for assistance. They despatched a messenger to Christie's for the car- riage, and brought Mara to the house and did all they could fo.' her. Walter soon arrived with the carriajre and in a short time Alice was seated cosily by the grate telling how she had walked along without noticing ', *, im OR, WRECKED ON PASSION. 43 ' the change in the sky until it had become alarmingly dark ; then thinking the storm would come down im- mediately, she sought shelter in the boat house, sitting in the boat, which was not fastened ; she was so in- tently watching the lake that she did not notice the boat slipping down until all at once she found herself out on the lake. Mara had been conveyed to bed and every attention given her; but before midnight she was tossing' about in wild delirium ; day after day passed until three weeks had gone, then she opened her eyes in con- sciousness once more. She found the penitent Alice by her side, who tenderly begtred her not to speak, being strictly prohibited by the doctor. ** I must speak, Alice; yes, see and speak to all my friends; I am to be here but a short time ; the end has come at last to a long long life lived in a f^v short years." She lingered a few days lonofer, attended bv her sister, Mr. Hurst and his sister, Al'ciiand W;i!rer, who scarcely ever left her bedside; and thus surrounded by those she loved most dearly, and trusting in Him ivho alone can brinL*" peace to the troubled spirit, she fell asleep. ■ tV I m m I M ii 'ir- pLLY WUNTLEY. il r i, H I I 1*11 .«»«• 1^ I i|.:t.i turn 'iW LIi.LY HUNTLEY. When adverse winds and waves arise, And in my heart despondence sighs ; When life her throng of care reveals. And weakness o'er my spirit steals- Grateful I hear the kind decree, That " as my day my strength shall be." SiGOURNEY. »«fc. ! I !« LILLY HUNTLEY. I CMAl^Tlili r. Lilly had just cleared the tea table, washed, and re- placed the dishes in the cupboard, when she heard a carriage rumbling down the street ; it stopped before the cut stone house which stood opposite her humble home. Instantly she was at the window with her face pressed close to the glass ; she saw a span of beautiful white horses, and an elegant barouche, from which stepped a stout lady dressed in heavy black silk and velvet ; she was followed by a little girl about Lilly's own age, who was also richly dressed ; she bounded up the steps before her mother and rang the door- bell. They were soon admitted, and a few moments # I * )l w 48 LILLY HUNTLKT ; Pi 'lb later Lilly saw through the handsome lace curtains the figure of the child seated at the piano running her fingers lightly over the keys, sweet strains of music faintly reached her; often when tired and hopeless she had been refreshed by these soft notes, often when rebellious been soothed ; but to-night she felt wicked and envious, and as they reached her, she shut her heart and eirs to their, sweetness and bitterly con- trasted the luxury of the home before her with her own. " Lilly," called her mother ; Lilly turned toward her to listen, but a violent fit of coughing checked the words she would have spoken. Lilly went to her, drew her head to her shoulder, where it rested with closed eyes long after the coughing had ceased ; at last, raising her head, she said, " Lilly, dear, light the lamp, I must finish this dress and take it home to- night ; but what is the matter my child ? your cheeks are wet with tears, come, tell your mother, love." Lilly sank to the floor, dropped her face in her mo- ther's lap and sobbed loudly. When the violence of this outburst had passed, her mother lifted her and again gently questioned her ; LILLY HUNTLEY. 49 " It is only this, ma," slie burst out " Why is there such a diflbronce between the N'ewtons and us; they have everything they wish for, horses and carriages, silks and velvets, fine house and servants, and everything, everything, and we nothing but poverty, and you so sick, and while they do nothing but pleasure, you have ever to hurry and work, then carry it home ; yes, carry those great heavy parcels, while their footman carried their parcel from the car- nage, and it was only a tiny thing that a baby wouhl have taken. Ma, is it always to be this way ? are we never to be better off." " Dear Lilly," said her mother, drawing her close to her, '= how strange it is that you should feel so. just when I was wishing we could live this way for years ; yes. my dear, you need not glance around at our poor room and e.tend your great eyes in wonder If I was only just a little better, I could work and car- ry home these great parcels which you dislike so .nuch ; yes. carry them home with pleasure, feeling rich ; yes^ rich my girl, if you were so close to me that I could put my arms around you ; but instead of these great ■ ' t' It I m I ■w 50 TJLLY HTTNTLET. I T, riches, my health and my chiughtcr ; the one las gone, the otlier I am soon to lose," (( Ma !' " Yes, dear, you must know soon, you may as well know now : J am no longer able to work for our main- tenance as I have done, and my sister, your o''.nt Katie, says she will no longer help me if I persist in trying to do so ; so there is nothing else for me to do, but to give up. I am going to live with her in the country ; and you, my child, do you remember your uncle Hubert, you have not seen him since the day of your father's funeral ; he then offered to adopt you, but I could not give you up, knowing that all inter- course between us wouUi be at an end ; but now I am obliged to, we both must try to bear the separation bravely ; I know you will for my sake, and I trust yoa will be happy in your new homo. You have envied Grace Newton, — with your* uncle all ycu have seen lier with, you will then enjoy ; no doubt you will have many trials and you will miss me very much, but I have taught you where to look for comfort, where to go for counsel ; be ever obedient, gentle, kind, for- LILLY HUNTLEY, 5^ giving. I do not know your cousin, Fanny and Helen, but I know they n,ust be very different from you the,r circumstaneea and surroundings are so widely different, but by following my advice. I am sure you will win their confidence and love." " O ma ! I can never live separated from you " "You will grow accustomed to it, my dear, and it ".ll help you to bear it to know I am released from th.3 drudgery, in a comfortable home .mong kind friends." " ^^'''y "="'"0' I go to the country with you ?" " Your aunt has four daughters of her own to dress and educate, and does not feel equal to taking another particularly when she knows your uncle's offer is so much more advantageous." " When do we leave here, ma ?" "Let me see. this is Tuesday, just a week from to- day." " Where does uncle HuoLi't live ?" " In Sherbrooke street." " How I do wish I was going with you. mama, I love the country so much too ; do you remember when i i , IK i!jHf 52 LILLY HUNTLEY. aunty took us to her place, what a nice time we had, walking in the beautiful fields, and resting under the great trees listening to the sweet birds. Oh ! I must go with you, ma, I will ask aunt Kate ;" and the little girl tlirew herself into her mother's arms and sobbed bitterly. Her mother tried to sooth her, telling her of the luxurious home she was going to, but Lilly only sobbed louder and clung closer to her ; her mother then gently released herself from her, placed her in a chair by her side, and wiping the tears from her own eyes, went on with her sewing, — two hours after the dress was finished, neatly folded, and for the last time, the mother and child together carried home the work. The rest of the week was spent in looking over Lilly's wardrobe ; as Mrs Huntlev w^as unable to add any new dresses to it, she took the best of her own that she had laid aside after her husband's death, and made them over for her. The week soon slipped away ; during that tin^e Mrs. Huntley had received a note from her brother-in-law, stating tlie time that he would send his carriage for Lilly ; and now aa it ne/ired the time, the mother s:it holding her child in her LILLY HUNTLEY. 53 arms, counting the n,ome„ls that yet remained. Lilly conscious of the pain hsr tears eau.od her, struc^^Ied' bravely to restrain thea,, and sat leaning her heaTon her mothers shoulder, gazing mutely along the street in the direetion she expected ,he carriage to come in • at about ten o'clock, it came drawn by a sleek span of horses ,n silver n,ounted trappings. With a lon^ embrace, Mr, M„„„oy placed her on the crimson cush.ons, closed the carriage door, it s^-ept awav and left her gazing after it until it turned the corner I-dly strained her eyes to catch a last look at that i>"le loved face, then slipped from the seat to the bot- to.n of the carriage and gave full vent to her pent (^'elings. .-^he forgot her wish of a week ago: the grand house with its brilliant lights, velvet carpets a-d gorgeous furniture, the servants, barouche and horses, all were as nothing ; her only wislrand thought was to bo with her mother. She knew in about an hour her aunt would call for her, and could she but nestle beside her in the market wagon among the rude buffaloes, she would be happy ; this thought alone oc- eupied her during the ride ; she was roused by the car- ;iti ",llf^^ I: 54 LILLY HUNTLEY. m t ' riage stopping : she sprang up and seated herself just as the coachman opened the door. He lifted her out and led her in. As Lilly passed through the hall she saw a little girl leaning over the stairs trying to r^et a glimpse of her, and as her eyes fell on her she exclaim- ed, " What a horrid fright ;" and with a smothered laugh ran up the stairs ; deeply mortified she walked into the room where her aunt sat, and stood before her with downcast eyes. " O dear !" The exclama- tion came from a young lady who sat beside Mrs. Hu- bert Huntley. Mrs. Huntley held out her hand to her and said, " Lilly I am your aunt Clara, and bid you welcome." She touched her fingers as she spoke, then presented her to her cousin Fanny, who also bade her welcome. Lilly raised her eyes first to one face then the other, but she found the young one was but a counterpart of the older, and that was proud and cold; she had not expected a very warm welcome, but had she tried she would have failed to conceive one such as this. Mrs. Huntley bade the man ring for Lucy the maid, and under her charge she was conveyed to her room. Lilly gave a furtive glance at the mirror LILLY HUNTLEY. 55 >n I'sssing, and what a picture met her eye ; her pretty blue ..erino dress soiled and crumpled, the black vel- vet her mother had cut down to fit her and trimmed so mcely, now gray with dust, and her bonnet so bat- tered and crushed that it was scarcely recognizable as an article under that name, while her curls were thrown over it in every direction like so n.any bright auburn feathers, and her face tear-stained and be- grimed, poor Lilly truly a " horrid fright." When tl.ey reached the chamber the maid left her and re- turned to Mrs. Huntley for orders, and Lilly soated her elf in mute despair, mortification and grief, the very last promise to her mother she had violated "Act ladylike Lilly, so that the conduct of the child of a farmer's daughter may not jar rudely against the feelmgs of your refined friends," and she had answered "yes, mother;'- but what had she done instead, and she glanced ruefully at the clothes in which her kind uiother had arrayed her with such pride, and her tears qnietly flowed. Lucy's return soon eff-eeted a change m her appearance, for when she had made a liberal api)lication of water to her face and hands, and a vi- I- \A 56 LILLY HUNTLEY. gorous brushing to hor hair, together with a change of dress, she declared that '* Miss Fanny herself did not look better," then left her. Lilly after carefully inspecting the apartment, which was beautifully fur- nished, and contained two lovely little beds, which she concluded w^as for her cousin Helen and herself^ went to the window and stood there looking out ; being on the third floor she had an excellent view of the citv, and as she was busily engaged in trying lo find the home she had just left, out from among the hundreds before her, she received a violent jerk by her curls and a merry voice said, " Well, fiery locks ;" she turned, and confronted the little girl whom she had seen in the hall. " Are you cousin Helen ?" she asked. *• I have that honor," said Helen with a low cour- tesy. Lilly's face grew very red and her eyes filled with tears ; this softened her cousin, who was natur- ally a warm-hearted little girl, ao she put her arms round Jiilly's neck and said, '* Lill don't you mind me, I am an awful madcap, but I mean to like you. I am real glad you have come ; you see ma is so hor- LILLY HUNTLEV. 57 ridly 8tiff and formal, and Fan is just like l,er, they get on splendidly together, and without n,e, but I „m pa's pet and pride ; but you know he is so much oc- cupied with business that I an. mostly alone ; but by the figure you cut when you arrived this morning "l think your company will suit me better than them, there take (hat as a compliment. Here give us a kiss and let us be Crienda." After the kiss had been given Lilly said, " Why did you call me fiery loeks-my h^jr is not red ?" " My eyes deceive me then ; pray what is it?" " Pa used to call me golden hair." " And what did ma call you ?» a»ked the mischie- vous cousin ?" • " She called it auburn, and used to say my curls were like beautiful floss," answered Lilly, all uncon- scious that her cousin was amusing herself at her ex- pense. " Well after such conclusive proofs as this I mu.^t admit 1 am wrong, and give up the name, but I am sorry, for I rather jiked it ; however I suppose Liil will do as well when I get used to it, mi,ie remember m i i % "ml f|.( I ,» !' hi:;" 58 LILLY HUNTLEY. hero in the room is Nell, out of it it is Nellie or Helen." *' Whv this difference ?" " Because Nell, though all to be desired in the way of being short, blunt and pointed, is rather vulgar, while Nellie is sweet and genteel, and Flelcn is well ; I cannot describe it exactly unless I say it has a touch of Ma and Fan about it ; do vou understand ?" " Yes I think I do, and I would rather call you Nellie all the time ; I think it very sweet and pretty ; I like it verv much." " Very well, that is settled ; now how old are you ?** " Twelve years." " The same age as I am ; Fan is fifteen, she sleeps in the room below this, Lucy our maid in the one next to this. There goes the lunch bell, you will see pa now." Nellie took her hand and led her down. All the family were already there when they entered the din- ing room. Mr. Huntley drew his niece toward him, welcoming her warmly ; he pressed her in his arms, smoothed the hair back from her brow, and kissed her as he repeatedly said, " How like her father." And LILLY HUNTLEY. 59 f» Lilly, looking up into his face with its full forehead, bright brown hair and kind blue eyes, thought " Flow I like pa he is." Lilly, dazzled by the display of silver and china, did not enjoy the meal much, and was glad when Nellie and she were allowed to return to their room. They had not been long there when the sew- ing girl, which Mrs. Huntley always kept, came into the room and asked Lilly for the key of her trunk ; then to her astonishment and dismay the girl opened it and quickly turned its contents out upon the floor. " What are you going to do, Sarah ?" asked Nellie. " I urn going to see what your cousin has fit to wear, and what she needs, and bring the report to your Ma," said the girl, taking a pencil and paper from her pocket. It was with no small pang that Lilly saw the clothes which her mother had made or mended, turned and trimmed with such care and pride, now thrown aside in a heap as useless ; and others that they had thought looked so beautiful and fit for any day or occasion, now eyed half doubtfully and finally pronounced fit for school ; and her trunk, which had been her delight, ^t!| |. ; I m\ w r 60 LILLY HUNTLEY. pushed into the passage, waiting to be carried to the lumber room. Sarah now withdrew, and Lucy name in and commenced to arrange her clothes in the bureau and closet, while Nellie tried to cheer her with visions of much finer ones than those which had been rejected. That afternoon they joined Fanny, who sat in the sit- ting room busy with some fancy work. *' Are you fond of this kind of work, Lilly V^ she asked. ** I have never done much of it ; the only kind of wool work that ma taught me was to knit stockings, do you like that ?' *' I have never tried it," said Fanny dryly. But Nellie's active imagination, ut th^> mention of stocking-knitting, had conjured Lilly in- the form of an old woman working away with the end of a huge stoekinsr tucked under her arm, then to varv the scene she remarked, '* I suppose you darn." To her aston- ishment Lilly said, *' Yes, ma says I darn very nicely.'' " Of course you do housework," went on Nellie as though she was quite an adept in it herself, and ex- pected as much of Lilly. " Yes," answered Lilly, " I she LILLY IIUNTLEl. 61 did the most of ours for the past year, Ma's health was so bad she could not do all." " Do you make nice cuke ?" " I have made very little cake, but I can make real good biscuit." Nellie was about to speak again, but Fanny cheeked lier, saying, *' Helen we have had enough of this ; if there is any more of it T will ask you to go up stairs." ': " I CHAPTER Ii; The next day Lilly went to school with her cousin. Before starting hor aunt strictly charged her to remain perfectly silent on everything connected with her past life. Lilly's time was so much occupied between the school and the many novel things round her at home, that although she talked a great deal about her to Nellie yet she grew accustomed to the separation. Nellie was her bosom friend, and although mischievous and 62 LILLY HUNTLEY. i^ inl'! »^8«i. could enjoy a little sport at Lilly's expense, yet she would not allow another to do it ; so to her Lilly came with all her troubles, and found in her ever a loving and kind friend. Time passed on ; the Christmas holidays were fast approaching. Fanny and Nellie now constantly talked of the pleasant time they anticipated. Nellie often tried to interest Lilly by recapitulating her past plea- sures, but a longing had taken possession of her to spend them with her mother ; so one evening, a week before Christmas, she confided her wish to Nellie, but Nellie shook her head doubtfully and said, ** I am sure I would be real glad if I could help you, but I cannot. I am afraid ma would not consent ; do you remember when you came here first how you used to say, when you heard a name mentioned that was familiar to you, * Is that Mrs. So and So of such a street,' if the an- swer was, * Yes, do you know her V you would then say, * Ma used to sew for her.' Now, my dear girl, this was decidedly unpleasant for iVla and Fan, and it sometimes put me to a great deal of trouble to manage to get a convenient place within reach of your elbow LILLY HUNTLEY. G3 or toes that I might pincli you into silence ; and it is only last week I heard Ma remark to Pa, * Is it not well we took the plan we did with Lilly ; had wo allowed intercouise between herself and friends she never would have fallen so nicely into our ways as she has done.' So you see there is not much hope there ; give up the thought and think of the fun here." ** But Nellie I cannot give it up, and I know you will help me, or at least try to ; do, do, Nellie dear, if it is only to ask your Pa." And Lilly laid her wet cheek against that of her companion's, and wound her arms round her. Nellie sat a few moments with her eyes fixed on a flower in the carpet, as though reading in its delicately colored petals the best plan to adopt. Then passing her hand caressingly over Lilly's head, she said, " There is only one way in which we may succeed in uaininar Ma's consent, if that fails ►pe 'ou are done 9? (( Oh I am sure it will not. Nellie your plans are always good ; what is it ?" " Well, first, I do not think it a good idea for me to ask Pa, for he would say go to your Ma about it, and yi li n 'W^ CA LILLY HUNTLEY. 'I : ^^ Ma would say, * child eo to your room, wo know what is host hoth for you and your cousin, and that we sliall do without being asked.' Do you see, Lill, I know all about that from past exj)erienee ; but here is my ])]an — you ask Ma before Pa; he is impulsive and will at once take sides with you, and most likely the day will be ours." '' When shall I ask V *' Let me see; well to-morrow after dinner when thev are at leisure." Soon after this chat the two girls went to bed ; Nellie's fair curly head had scarcely touched the pil- low when she slept ; but Lilly tossed about wakeful long after, thinking of the great pleasure in store for her, for her confidence in Nellie was unbounded, and now she wondered at herself for not having spoken to her sooner about it ; at last, tired out, she fell asleep thinking of her mother's pale face, and dreamed her own was nestling close against it. The day following was unusually long to Lilly, but finally it ended : and when the family had taken their seats in the parlor after dinner her heart throbbed i^^.-r? LILLY HUNTLEY. G.5 leir )ed painfully, for she stood in awe of her cold, haughty aunt. For some time she sat uneasily in her chair, trying to think of something to say, and how she would say it ; until Nellie began to fear she would let this good opportunity slip, and commenced such a series of pinches and meaning looks, that poor Lilly was driven to her task in spite of herself. She arose, stepped across the room and stood before Mr. and Mrs. Huntley, who sat side by side near the glowing grate ; they both looked at the child, as she stood there twitch- ing her fingers nervously, and her bosom heaving with great sobs that her quivering lips could not keep down. ** What is it, Lilly ?" said Mr. Huntley, holding out his hand to her ; she laid her's timidly in it ; as his fingers closed over her's she gained courage, and look- ing up with tear-filled eyes, she said, " Uncle, Aunt, I am a great trouble to you I know, and you are so kind ; I should not ask anything, but every one is talk- in^ about all the beautiful things they are going to have in the holidays. May I see my poor dear Ma ?" The finger.*- closed tighter over her's, and the owner of them said, " She may go, T suppose, Clara." A look I' f^^^ i^! GG LILLY HUSTLE Y. of intense displeasure crossed the lady's face ; he noticed it and quickly said, *• Of course I know you would not think of keeping her when she wishes so much to go." Then, in a lower tone, " It will be the last holi- days they will spend together here." ** Yes, 1 suppose you may go, Liily," said hei aunt. Lilly gave her uncle one earnest look of gratitude and burst into tears. " I will excuse you, Lilly," said her aunt ; and glad to be alone she hurried to her room. How the inter- vening days passed Lilly did not know ; it seemed like a dream to her ; she was not only going to see her mother, but to spend two weeks with her and Aunt,, Katie, who had been so kind to her, and whom she loved so much, but now did not dare even name ; be- cause on market days she rode into the city in her wagon, which was filled with butter, eggs and fowl. On the morning of Christmas eve, when the great load of turkeys and geese had been disposed of, Lilly, wrapped in a butTiJo, sat beside her aunt and sped over the smooth ice bridge that spanned the St. Lawrence between Montreal and Laprairie ; no word had been^ LILLY HUNTLEY. 67 she be- her )wl. oad iiy. ver nee cert' sent to the poor invalid mother regarding her child's coming, and although she had longed to see her she did not hope to, for she knew what her brother-in-law meant when he said, * if she is sick or in any way need- ful of your presence I shall send for you ;' so, for her child's sake, she could bear it, hard as it was, and she could trust her darling with him, he was so like her late husband ; and although his haughty wife had never called upon her since she had come from her humble country home to the city, yet Hubert had, during her husband's life, and when he died, had offered every help and kindness ; as long as she could do without she had done so, but when no longer able, she resigned herself to what he thought best. When her sister reached home that evening she left Lilly in the sleigh and went in alone; the widow was seaced by the fire with her knitting lying idly in her lap ; she went to her, laid her hand on her shoulder, and said, ** Julia, I have brought something from the city to you.-* Mrs. Huntley grasped her hand and cried *' It is my child, Katie, bring her to me." Another moment and she held her in her arms ; when at last I" rrw 68 LILLY HUNTLEY. she was able to release her she held her at arm's length, and run her eyes over her slender figure, which was draped in fine merino, while glistening jewels sparkled at her ears and throat. ** Can this really be my little one?" " O Ma, this is nothing to what I have," cried Liiiy. " I have everything just like Nellie, and they are all so kind to me, even Aunt Clara, who is so grand and and proud." " Then you are happy in your new home, Lilly ?" "Yes Ma, I should be perfectly so if you were there." ** You must not expect perfect happiness here, my dear, so you must be content knowing I am comfort- able, and well satisfied with your present position. Lilly you may never have an opportunity of showing how sincerely you feel their kindness, but if you do have it, remember, my daughter, you owe them even to the sacrificing of your own comfort and happiness." ** I hope you do not think me ungrateful, Ma," said Lilly, resting her bright head on her mother's shoul- der, and gnzing up into her eyes. " Not the least so, my little warm-ltcarted pet ; but LILLY HUNTLEY. ■5" » C9 ■t IS my duty to charge you thus, even though no sha- dow of a chance is apparent, at present, of you ever being called upon to make a sacrifice, or you failing to do so if required." The two weeks flew quickly by, and although they could not enjoy those delightful walks in the beautiful fields, as they had done on Lilly's last visit, yet they d.d not raiss them, they had so much to tell each other • and when the allotted time had ended Lilly found she had not yet told half, but go she must. " Ma, ma, it is hard, hard," she sobbed, clingin. to her as she stood by the market sleigh in the early grey morning light. " This is your cross, my love." her mother whispered in a trembling voice, " bear it bravely, looking to the crown." They parted, each straining her eyes as the distance widened between them, until they were out of sight. In a day or two Lilly regained her usual lively "spir- its, and everything glided smoothly on as before until spring ; when one day Lilly was called to the parlor where her uncle sat wailing to speak to her ; when she * ^^" iii^ 70 LILLY HUNTLEY. entered the room he held out his hand to her, and in a low compassionate voice said, " I have something sad to tell you, Lilly, my child," and he drew her toward him. She scanned his kind face wonderingly, for she missed his gentle smile as he pressed her closer to him. Her heart stood still ; she put one of her little cold hands up and drew his face close to hers, and her white lips breathed the single word " mother." " She is very ill," he said. She drew a long breath in relief, and the color once more returned to her white face ; he had meant to break the news gently to her, but she had leaped to a conclusion worse than the reality. She was dying, while Lilly thought her already dead. " You are going to her now, the sleigh is at the door, and always remember, I am your father whatever may happen. Tell your mother so ; now go for your wrappings, I will see you at the door." It was a long dull ride for poor Lilly ; she was not acquainted with the man that had been sent for her, but as she had no wish to speak, no matter who he was ; so she drew her veil over \er face and nestled down in the corner of the sleigh, with but one thought -•!■ "* .- ^ LILLY HUNTLEY, tji in her .nind, " If ,heo„Iy lives until I get there" And she did live, for she lay quietly sleeping when Lilly reached her bedside ; by it she kr.olt and laid her cheek to the marble like hand which rested on the coverlet, until the white lids were lifted and the great eyes gleamed with recognition. For the remainder of the night she sat by the bedside ; her mother being very weak was able to speak but little and at long in- tervals. Toward the evening of the next dav she fell asleep with her head resting on Lilly's shoulder, and one of he. hands in he.'s ; sometimes she lay so still that L.lly s heart would beat quickly, and her .ar would be strained to catch the sound of her breathing but again the faint wave of sound would reach h.!' that told her.he still lived. Thus the time passed until ■mcln,ght. then the dying woman opened her eyes took one last look at that dear face bending over her' and closed them forever. ' Soon after the funeral Lilly was taken back to the c.ty, for her kind aunt knew it would be much better 'or her to return at once to her young friends and school, than to stay there brooding over her loss, as i.' I' WW 72 LILLY HUNTLEY. she would undoubtedly have done ; nor did she wish to stay, for now she felt her Uncle Hubert was her only protector, and in no arms but Nellie's could she sob out her grief. She was received with much kind- ness when she returned ; every one did their utmost to divert her mind from her bereavement. Months passed ; Nellie and Lilly grew warmer friends each day, and Lilly has become fully initiated into all the punctilios of the family ; she now seldom requires a friendly pinch from Nellie to recall her. But one summer day, being at home alone, Fanny and Nellie having accompanied their mother to make a few morning calls, Lilly wandered about the house until she was tired, then passed out to the yard at the back of the house ; the kitchen window being opened, she seated herself on the sill to watch the servants as thev bustled round, busy with their work. After a long time she grew weary of the incessant stir, seeing no appearance of it abating, so she said, *' Why, cook, are you not tired ? I dont think you have taken time to draw a good breath since I have been here." " Tired, child, I am most dead," and she dropt in- LILLY nUN'i'LET. 73 to a chair, caught her apron by the two corners, and commenced fanning herself vigorously. « Tired, yes I should think I am, look at all those preserves I have made this morning, and done up since you sat there " and she waved her hand toward the table ladened with jars of all sizes. " But, dear me what am I sitting here for. with half a dozen tarts to bake, some cake besides biscuit for lunch." She arose quickly as she spoke. " O cook, you will never get all that done." " But I must, and indeed I have done quite as much often enough without thinking of it ; but this morning my old head aches so I can scarcely keep it up." " How I should like to bake the biscuit for you ; it is so long since I made any, and I can do them so well ; won't you let me, cook ?" " O dear! no, Miss Lilly, I could not think of such a thing even to please you ; where did you learn to do any thing of the kind ?" The question reminded Lilly that she needed Nellie there to pinch her. so she did not reply ; but her desire to help the cook being greater than her prudence, she slipped through the window m Wl^ 74 LILLY HUNTLEY. to the floor, caught up an apron that lay on a chair and said, " I will give you better proof than words that I can do it,*' and was soon up to her elbows in flour ; nimbly her hands flew, and how brightly her eyes shone as she mixed, rolled out and cut her paste, and now they are finished. Before her lies the hot pan ready to receive them, her left hand is heaped with a snowy load of them, her right quickly transfer- ing them from her hand to the pan. ** Lilly !" said a voice at her back ; a scream escaped her, the biscuit rolled to the floor, and trembling and guilty, she stood before her aunt. ** Take off that apron, and go to your room ; remain there until I send for you." She dared not raise her eyes to encounter those of her aunt, but to clear the cook of all culpa- bility, she felt she must ; yet how could she speak, or what could she say. Thus she thought, as she pulled and twitched at the apron string \ at last off it came, she dropt it on the floor, turned toward the door, then stood there, and without looking up said, " Aunt Clara, the cook did not wish me to, I am alone to blame." Then bursting into tears went out ; that day LILLY HUNTLET. 76 her lunch «ras taken up to her, and Nellie was not allowed to go near her all afternoon, but in the evening she received permission to join the family at dinner. This was about the last feat Lilly performed in re- membrance of old times, for ever after, if an oppor- tunity occurred where she might have betrayed herself, the formidable shade of her frowning aunt, and the pan of biscuit rose before her. f I* CHAPTER in. Three years passed away with little apparent change in the household, but there was an under current at work, which was surely wearing away its foundation. Mr. Huntley's business began to decline, and though he was energetic and clever, he was rather venturesome and after several unfortunate speculations he grew des- perate, made one final effort, risked his all, and lost ; "f^ i '< k 76 LILLY HUNTLEY. ■ 'i and now the assignee's flag hung from the doors of both warehouse and mansion, A small house in a re- tired street was rented and plainly furnished ; the only article that remained of their former furniture was the piano, which a friend bought in for them at the sale, as it was going for a trifle. ** And now," thought Lilly, " I have no right here, for all the money that will be expended on me for the future will be just so much taken from Fanny and Helen ; I am sixteen now, and I am sure many a girl of that age has worked for herself, and so will I." Thus resolved she arose and went to her aunt, whom she knew was sitting alone in her own room ; she tap- ped lightly at the door, Mrs. Huntley bade her enter, she did so, and going to her aunt's side made known her wish to work for herself; tears filled her aunt's eyes, and for the first time in the four years that she had lived with her, she put her arms round her, pressed her to her tosom, and kissed her. •' No, no, Lilly," she said, " you will do something bettor than that, you will stay here and help us ; there are many things about the house we shall be obliged to do our- LILLY HUNTLEY. 77 selves, you know we have only one servant now." So Lilly remained. Mr Huntley took a subordin- ate position in a wholesale warehouse at a moderate salary, but his health and spirits were broken, and in that pale careworn countenance you could scarcely re- cognise the pleasant, kind faced gentleman who wel- comed Lilly so warmly to his luxurious home. What- ever Mrs. Huntley felt by this change she carefully concealed ; with the family she was much the same, with her former friends, when she chanced to meet them, only a shade haughtier. Fanny felt her changed circumstances acutely, but light-hearted Nellie, though for her father's sake she felt it deeply, still the novelty of their new mode of living presented so many in- teresting phases, she had no time to fret over her lost indulgences, but went heartily into the present; some- times, when she would lay her tired limbs down on her bed at night, she would say, *' Well if I am tired, I can rest on a bod my own hands have arranged in the most inviting state." Fanny had chosen, as her share of the work, the family sewing, but she was sadly deficient; so Lilly 11^ '^ 78 LILLY IIUNTLET. '3w had a divided task ; at one time instructing Fanny, at another helping the hired girl. They lived very quietly, had little company, among the few they had to visit them we mention but one, that was a Mr, Ross, a fellow clerk of Mr. Huntley's, to whom he had shown great kindness when he enter- ed the store, and in return for this ho had been invited to call ; this he gladly took the advantage of, as he had caught a glimpse of Nellie's merry face, as she opened the door to admit her father on one occasion that he had walked home with him from the store. His visits were enjoyed very much by every one except Fanny, who on these occasions rarely appeared in the parlor, for she had not yet, and never did become quite recon- ciled to this humble way of living. In this way two years slipped away, then Mr. Ross's employer gave him a better position in a house in Upper Canada, with which he was connected ; so there was a quiet wedding, and Nellie accompanied him to his western home. A month later Mr. Huntley became very ill, and in a few short weeks he was laid in his grave. The night after the funeral, as Lilly sat listen- LILLY nUNTLEV. 79 ing to the fierce December wind as it beat against the window, ji low rap at her door startled her ; the door opened and Mrs. Huntley put her pale sad face in, and said, ** May I come in, Lilly." " Certainly, Aunty, but I thought you had retired long ago." ** So I had, but I could not sleep, and when Fanny fell asleep I slipped out, and seeing your lamp burning I thought I would come and sit with you for a while, and together we could plan the future; what are we to do now, Lilly ?" Lilly remained silent. The lady con- tinued, " Work we must, but what will we do? I have thought and thought, until I am almost mad,^' ** What have you thought of doing ?" asked Lilly. ** I think Fanny, my poor proud Fanny, must teach music, and then I thought along with that, you and I might open a day school ; of course at May we must take a smaller house, we must lighten expenses as much as possible, and I am afraid we will be obliged to change our servant ; we can never manage to pay this one/' *' Do you mean to teach, Aunt ?" (I- "(Ir ( 80 LILLY HUNTLEY. " I certainly will.'* *' Then why not dispense with hired help entirely; I can do the house work." "01 am afraid it will be too much for vou." " I will do it until it has been proved so." She took her aunt's hand, led her to the door saying cheerfully, '* There it is one o'clock you must go to bed now, and do not fret a bit about it, I am sure we will get along nicely." " Lilly, my precious child, what a blessing you have been to us, what could we have done without you ?" They bade each other good night, and, much relieved, Mrs. Huntley lay down and slept. A day or two after the parlor furniture was sold, and a few forms purchased, and a card placed in the window bearing the words, " Music," and Day School. They only succeeded in collecting a few pupils ; this they attributed to the number of schools round them, and were not discouraged ; for as they intended to move in spring they could choose a more favourable locality ; the duty of house- hunting devolved on Lilly, and day after dav she traversed the suburbs, and re- LILLT HUNTLET. 81 turned home at night tired and heartless. A t last one day a ticket on a little eottage eaught I,er eye, quickly she stood before it and read. "Apply at Mr. Greer directly opposite." She crossed the street, rang the door bell, was admitted. As her feet prv«ed the soft carpet a sigh escaped her, she sank into a great easy chair, leaned her head against the cushions and thought "If I could only remain here, no more toil, no more house-hunting, no more poverty, the past could all be forgotten in this beautiful home." The room door opened and Mr. Greer entered, a tall portly gentleman, rather bald and very gray. She ex plained her business, he made some enquiries concern- ing the family, then ruminated, " Family consist, of three ladies." Then to l,i,;y, « a widow and two daughters." " No, sir, a daughter and iieice." "Ah, I beg pardon, you are of course the daughter?" " No sir, the neice," " Wrong again," he laughed. " Well, I hope it wll suit you, and we shall get better acquainted ; I do tlunk it would be a good place for a school ; I know t It ll 82 LILLY HUNTLEY. of no school near liere, besidrs T cj^n send you three music pupih myself. I am a widower, 1 have three da'Aghters, eldest sixteen, next fourteen, youngest twelve." They now went over to look at the house, it was a pleasant little place, on the first floor a parlor and din- ing roorn and back kitchen, in the att'c two bedrooms. " I think it will suit,, and if so 1 will return and let vou know." '* And if vou conclude to take it, I shall have it newly papered and nicely cleaned, and you may come to it as soon as you wish, it being vacant, it v/ill make no difference to me." Lilly hurried home to consult her aunt and cousin ; they decided on taking it, and the next day she return- ed and let him know, and a week before May they moved into it. It was, as Mr Greer had predicted, a good locality for a scliool, for in a short titne they had as many pupilu as they could accoinmodate. Although V was pleasing to have such a fair promise of success, yet each felt she was over tasked, still none spoke of it, f)r each thought, if they are able for their part I will not shrink from mine." LILLY HUNTLEY, 83 Besides they knew it took all they could earn to sup- port thp^rj, so they silently worked on for about a year, then Mrs. Huntley's health gave out, and she was ob- liged to give up school. Mr. Greer had become in- timate with the family and had been very kind to them. Every Saturday afternoon during the summer he sent his own carriage, that they might enjoy a ride in the fresh air, and in fact in every way he could show them a kindness he took advantage of it. Lilly's feelings from ♦he first were strongly adverse toward him, and an ext^iided acquaintance did not alter them, but she never mentioned this to her friends. One evening as she sat alone in the front room, Mrs. Huntley having i-etired and Fanny was engaged with a pupil in the dining room, Mr. Greer came in and tak- ing a seat near chatted awhile in his usual easy manner, drawing from her as he did so, their present unhappy state of affairs. '* What pains me most," she said, " is seeing aunt so ill, and without those comforts that until now she did not know what it was to be without." " It is very sad," he said, and his eyes turned to- ward his own handsome cut stone house opposite ; i »■ m 1 84 LILLY HUNTLEY. IM, Lilly's followed, and a deep sigh parted her lips, for she thought of the one such as that where she had first seen her aunt ; but he could not read her thoughts, and perhaps he supposed they had not waudered far- ther than her eyes, and said, ** Miss livmtley how happy, how unspeakably happy, would I be if your aunt was a perpetual guest there and Miss Fanny : if she would accept the position of governess to my girls, or guest also, until she chose a home for herself, and you, my dear Lilly, mistress of it all." ** I beg pardon," said Lilly, not quite understanding. ** Lilly," he went on, from the first time I saw you I loved you, and resolved to try and win you ; now do hear me ;" for she had risen as though to leave the room, ** I cannot, sir, you must please excuse me." " I will not hurry you, think it over, I will speak to your aunt, and do think kindly of me; remember all that money can buy will be yours." He dared not say more, her face wore a look of such pain ; so taking his hat ho went out. A few days after this, as Lilly sat sewing by her aunt, after a loni? sil- ence, Mrs. Huntley said, "Lilly how old are you dear?'' ■ LILLY HUNTLEY. 85 to ill ** Nineteen, Aunt." " Qh ! yes, tlie same age as Nellie ; dear Nellie how glad I am she was married at the time she was ; she just escaped these hardships ; poor girl how she would grieve if she knew how we were . ituated ; it is well we told her our circumstances when we were doing so well ; for although she is very comfortable herself, she has nothing to spare ; and you are nineteen, nearly two years since Nellie was married, do you not think it is time you were getting settled, Lilly ?" " Fanny is three years older than I." " Yes, but Fanny has not been so fortunate as you, Mr. Greer has told me all about it, Lilly, and he hopes the next time he calls I will have a kind answer for him." ** Then he will be disappointed." " Lilly, my dear girl, do not let any silly romance cheat you out of a luxurious home ; have you not been pinched enough yet by poverty to know that there is something more substantial than the nonsense of a sentimental school girl. W hat can you be think- ing of ? what more do you want than a kind-hearted and wealthy gentleman ?*' «t i 86 LILLY HUNTLEF. ^ ** But he is almost repulsive to me." " You could overcome that if you wished.' " With this feeling toward him would you wish Fanny to marry him ?" *' I would insist on it, were she in your place." Lilly made no answer to this, but folded her work and left the room ; day after day passed, and neither Mrs. Huntley's health nor their circumstances improv- ed ; and Lilly's work, which had been ample before, was now increased, so that an idea which had occur- red to her of finding sewing to do to add a little to their scanty fund, she was obliged to abandon. Though Mr. Greer still continued his visits as before, no further reference was made to his proposal ; the summer faded, and winter, with all its terrors for the poor, was fast approaching, and a very weary prospect it was to them. One evening, as the two girls sat together, Fanny idle and Lilly busily patching up a warm wrapper for Mrs. Huntley, Fanny said, " I cannot conceive, Lilly, how you can toil so incessantly from morning until bed time as you do, in this miserable way, an 1 wretched place, particularly when such a tempting way to escape lies right before you." ■ .. } LILLY HUNT LEY. 87 (» *♦ If thore was a temptins: way, Fanny, I should cer- tainly take advantage of it." "How perverse you are, child ; when it is too late perhaps you will see, and that may be before spring. Only think of the coming winter, with scarcely a stick of wood in the shed, and not enough of clothing to appear even passably respectable, much less to feel comfortable, and ma's constantly declining health, which is just going to kill you both outright. O Lilly I am in despair when I think of it," and Fanny dropt her head to the table and burst into tears. " Fanny, Fanny, do not, oh do not ; I can stand anything but this. The work is nothing, for as it becomes heavier I seem to increase in strength in pro- portion ; do not fear for me, and as for the wood I know how to get a supply of that, so we wont be so bad off after all; and I know our good fairy will give us a call before spring; so don't be down-hearted," said Lilly, making an attempt at pleasantry. " And who knows but before spring you will be mistress your- self of the mansion opposite." As Fanny raised her head and smiled, Lilly in turn !• -!' commenced to cry. It was now Fanny's time to offer consolation, and the unfinished wrapper lay forgotten on the floor. That night before Lilly retired she went to the bureau, opened a drawer, and took from it a little box, seated herself at the table, and opened it with a deep drawn sigh : she took from its velvet cushions her father's watch and chain, her mother's brooch and finger rings, a handsome set of jewelry, pearls set in gold, her uncle's present, then her aunt's emeralds in exquisite gold settings. " It is hard, hard to part with any of them, still I must not falter ; my first thought must be of them, not myself," thought she as she took her two beautiful sets and her mother's brooch, and tying them up she placeti them in her pocket. She then returned the other articles to the box and replaced it in the drawer with tear-dimmed eyes. Next day when Lilly held her precious treasures toward the jeweler, stating her wish to sell them, he scrutinized her pale face keenly, and ran his sharp eyes over her shabby dress. She felt an explanation would not be out of place, and said, " I received these from friends when in good circumstances, but now being needful of money I am obliged to part with them." '• Very well, Miss, I will expose them in the win- ■<■ LILLY HUNTLEY. 89 ,. i dow, and in two weeks you can return and most likely I will buy them from you." Lilly thanked him and hastened on to market, trying to persuade herself, as she wiped her eyes, it was not so hard after all. Two weeks after she called on him and received from him twenty-five dollars, which was about one-third their value, but Lilly thought not of that, but hurried away to a wood yard and ordered the wood, then went home. That winter proved to be a hard one, and the good fairy she had hoped to come and help them failed to appear, and the butcher's and baker's bills grew longer and longer, with no apparent way of paying them. Mr. Greer once more asked her aunt to intercede for him, but she merely mentioned his wish to Lillv, and made no effort to urge her ; but Fanny, who dreaded the thought of losing her mother, as soon as she was alone with Lilly threw her arms round her and begged her to say yes. " Oh ! Lilly," she pleaded, " how can you see her fade before your eyes like this ; this constant dread of star- vation is gnawing out her life. If Nellie were but rich, or if indeed there was the faintest shadow of succour from any other direction, ask you I would not, but there is none, none. O Lilly, you have lost your own mother, have you no pity, no feeling for me," and, trembling and convulsed with emotion, she sank to the 90 LILLY HUNTLEY. !l! floor. Lilly's face grew ashy white, and her voice was husky as she answered, " Fanny, give me one month more, if then there is no change here I will do as you wish me ; say no more about it until that time has expired. Fanny held out her arms toward her, but, with averted faoe, she left the room and passed into her own ; when there she sank into a chair, buried her face in her hands and sobbed convulsively. When the violence of this outburst had completely exhausted she threw herself on her bed and fell asleep. With the morning came the thought of how rashly she had spoken ; however it was too late now, she knew Fanny had not slept until she had told her mother, and it was impossible to disappoint them ; that she could not do. *' There is nothing left for me to do but to redouble my efforts," thought she. " There is, there must be some way of escape. I know there is, and I will find it." i I CHAPTER IV. Day after day and night after night she racked her burning brain for son.e mode by which they might be LILLY HUNTLEY. 91 •• able to earn their livelihood, but all to no purpose, and the time was fast slipping away ; half her time was gone. One blustry morning, having business in No- tre Dame Street, she walked along with a heavy heart and weary step ; it was early, and there were but few people on the street ; directly before her walked a gentleman whose figure caught her eye. " IIow like dear Uncle Hubert," she thought, " even his walk re- sembles his." While she looked at him, ho placed his hand in a pocket in the skirt of his coat, and drew out his handkerchief; as he did so she observed an object drop from his pocket to the ground. She was too far behind him to attract his attention by calling, so she ran forward as fast as she could and picked it up ; it was a pocket book. He being still too far away to call, she kept on running, and when she reached the French Square the wind was so fierce she was obliged to wait for a lull ; so he advanced much further while she waited, than she had gained on him while running, and he soon disappeared round the corner of St. Fran- cois Xavier Street. Again she commenced to run with all her speed, and when she arrived at the corner she saw him enter an Exchange office ; she now walked smartly along until she reached the door, opened it, went in, and, breathless from running, sank into a seat. The gentleman stood warming himself at the cheerful w near nd ask- and the