"Oho!" said Mr. Malcolm; 66 so you do not believe what I say, Miss Alice ?"

"Most always," said Alice, "but not then. I'm so glad you've come, and Aunt Isabel. You wont go off again for ever so long, will you?"

"No, we're going to have a nice time at home this winter."

"And Aunt Isabel's going to live here always?" asked Anna.

"Always, my pet, I hope," said Mr. Malcolm.

Mr. Hastings had sold his city home, and was to live with his daughter and her husband part of the year, and the other part he hoped to have them with him, some of the time, at least, in his country house, to which he still clung with affection.

He was there now with Leila, and they were intending to remain there until Christmas, when Leila was to marry Fred, and live with him in the dear old home that both of them loved so well.

After their return Mr. Malcolm and his wife treated their friends to an elegant reception. The house was open throughout, and beautifully decorated with autumn leaves which Philbert and the children spent a whole happy afternoon in gathering. Purple asters, too, and beautiful golden-rod, with here and there a late bloom of clethra, mingled with hothouse flowers, were scattered in vases about the rooms. As Isabel dressed herself in her pale blue silk with velvet trimmings, and arranged the wreath of orange blossoms in her hair, she wondered if she were the same person who once upon a time wore white muslin and rosebuds at a birthday party. That old self seemed dead.

"I am another person," she said, "quite another person."

Mr. Malcolm overheard her, and thought it was her dress that must have so transformed her.

"Let me look at you," he said, "and see if it is so."

Isabel turned a smiling face upon him. "Your own beautiful self," he said, "and no one else."

She returned the kiss that he gave her with a gentle sweetness, then took his arm to descend into the drawing-room, where Alice and Anna were already pirouetting, dressed in white muslin, with broad bright sashes, one of blue and the other of pink; sashes that had caused tears and an un

sisterly quarrel, Anna having taken a violent fancy to the pink one, which was de signed for Alice. Aunt Isabel had been called upon to settle the difficulty, and had finally persuaded little red-faced Anna that blue was much the best color for her, while her sister's pale face needed the pink to set it off.

"It's 'cause you've got pretty cheeks, and I haven't," said Alice, with great graciousness, glad to have the pink sash upon which her heart was set.

"And you shall have a little orange blossom fastened into your curls," said Isabel, "just like a little bride that you talk so much of being."

Anna, therefore, was happy at last with some of Aunt Isabel's own orange blossoms in her hair. She believed that all the guests would think that somehow or other she was a little bride herself.

"Why, what is this?" said Leila, as Anna's chubby little hand patted the precious blossoms while she was stooping to kiss her. "Have you been stealing from Aunt Isabel ?"

"She gave it to me," said Anna.

"Her generous self," said Fred. "You and I must thank her, Anna, must we not ?" "You?" asked Anna.' "She didn't give

you an orange blossom."

"Yes, she did," said Fred; and he drew Leila's arm closer within his own as they approached Mr. and Mrs. Malcolm.

Leila wore, as was usual with her on such occasions, a silk of some pale indescribable color, vastly becoming, and tonight she wore scarlet blossoms.

The color came and went with the smiles upon her face, she was so happy. Fred watched her with jealous eyes and wondered if it could be true that she was his at last. He longed for the time when the words should be spoken that would seal the ownership, and leave no chance of doubt.

Leila remembered as they stood together in Mr. Malcolm's library, of the evenings spent there when she wore a smiling face, while head and heart were aching. She remembered, with regret, the love she had so unconsciously awakened, and, it seemed to her, so cruelly wronged. But glancing into the next room she caught sight of Mr. Malcolm's calm untroubled face, and the regret passed from her heart.

"My Adonis," she said, patting Fred's

hand, "shall I confess to you how I sometimes dreamed of you here, and then awakened miserably from the dream that I had no right in dreaming?"

She spoke very low, and foolishly, perhaps. Fred answered penitently:

"I have been so much to blame, that my present happiness seems sometimes a mockery."

"Sermonizing ?" asked Isabel, entering the room. "Leave that for some more auspicious moment and come and dance."

They obeyed her, and Fred, with a pride equal to that of his boyish days, led Leila through the dance.

Philbert was in a state of untold happi

ness.

When he was a boy and told Leila stories, they were always sure to end well; and now the story in which he had lived, and moved, and had the deepest interest, was ending well. How could he help being happy? Then, he had a hope, also, of telling another story, that was pretty sure to end as he desired, for Alice would not need many years to make a young lady of her, and Philbert was young. Fred and Leila were the last to leave, and sleepy little Anna, still occasionally patting her orange blossoms, said " 'good-night" to them several times before they laughingly took their departure.

The next day, according to promise, Leila went to spend the afternoon with Isabel, and have, as Alice was accustomed to say, a good long talk."

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"Have you seen the morning papers ?" asked Isabel. "There has been a terrible railroad accident."

"O dear," said Leila, "and I feeling so happy!"

Isabel found the paper and read her the account.

"The names of those injured will be given this evening."

Then, after a little while, they gradually began to talk of other things, Isabel relating the incidents of the summer, which were many and varied, and Leila listening, her own summer being one that she could not share in all its happiness with any one but him who had made that happiness.

Fred came home with Mr. Malcolm to tea, at which there was great rejoicing. Philbert soon joined them while they were eagerly scanning the evening paper, to learn more about the accident

"Have you read the names," he asked of Leila, "of those killed ?"

"Not yet," she answered.

He took a paper and folded it over, and handed it to her. She read the name of Lascours, and further down that of Castor, with an unmistakable description of his person.

"Both of them," she said. "O dear!" "Do you regret it?" "Do not you?"

"I suppose I ought," said Philbert, "but why, I do not know."

"And Sterne got off with a broken wrist," said Fred, excitedly. "That man will never get punished as he deserves."

"I'm glad it was no worse for him," said Leila, drawing a long breath.

"Angel of mercy!" said Philbert. "But wouldn't the world be better off if he should die, letting alone our individual interests ?"

"I want him to have time to repent," said Leila.

"But he never will."

"Then do not send him to perdition any sooner than is necessary," said Isabel. "I pity that man."

"And so do I," said Fred.

"I do not like to think of him," said Mr. Malcolm; and accordingly they changed the subject.

CHAPTER XXVII.

MR. AND MRS. FREDERICK MARKHAM AT HOME.

THE moaning wind, the melancholy rain, the swaying to and fro of the branches of the great chestnut tree in front of the window, seemed like the sob of a lost soul outside of paradise; for a very paradise was the little room within. It was the same room where Mrs. Markham had sat long ago at her sewing, with Fred and Leila playing about her, where she had paused from her work to tell them some story, or to join in some merry romp. Her portrait hung upon the wall, and opposite it that of her husband. There was only one other picture in the room, a landscape, a beautiful misty scene of daybreak in a valley, and the rays of the morning sun seemed almost to shine out of the picture into the room, where already there was a pale red glow from the firelight. The crowning comfort of the room was an open

fire; Fred having gratified himself and Leila by the removal of a small, good-natured, but oppressive airtight to the attic, and having in its stead a fireplace made, wherein there blazed continually a cheerful company of logs, into the very heart of summer sometimes.

Now it was only March, and Leila shivered comfortably in her rocking-chair, resting the tips of her warm and pretty house-slippers on the fantastical andirons. On the other side of the fireplace sat Isabel, sewing on a dainty bit of fabric, with a happy smile illuminating her face. On the sofa near at hand, fenced in with chairs and pillows, and sleeping quietly under the blankets, lay little Leila Malcolm, not many months arrived from the " anywhere into the here," but already the pet and pride of the families, and the admiration of the world at large.

"How thankful I feel to the storm that came on just in time to keep you prisoner last night," said Leila. "This would otherwise have been a lonely day with me."

"Nonsense," said Isabel," with Fred at home noon and night! Supposing he were gone all day, or even two or three days at a time, as Richard is sometimes."

"I've not been married as long as you," said Leila.

"That is a wrong argument," said Isabel. "The longer I am married, the more I miss Richard, and hate to have him away from me."

"True," said Leila, "my very case. I think I never shall be willing to have Fred go away without taking me with him."

"There'll come a time," said Isabel, shaking her head and glancing at the sofa, "when that may be impossible."

At this Leila rose softly, and went and pushed the blanket off the rosy little face, which she gently kissed.

Her little namesake stretched herself, and uttered something between a laugh and a cry, and opened her eyes.

"Precious is awake," said Leila; "may I take her up?"

"Why, yes," said Isabel; "but she ought not to wake up yet."

"Then I'll hush her," said Leila; and she began patting the baby and lulling her, to make her sleep again. But the little girl only laughed as if it were a good joke, and held out her baby hands to be taken up.

"I'm sorry," said Isabel, "for I am afraid she will be cross."

"She doesn't look cross," said Leila. And in a few moments she was laughing merrily with the baby, jumping her up and down, and kissing her, till the few stray hairs that adorned her little head stood up in crisscross fashion, and the embroidered belt of her delicate white dress came as near to being a necklace as it was possible.

"Let me have her a little while," said Isabel, jealous, as all young mothers are, of their first wee offspring.

Leila reluctantly resigued her, and watched Isabel pulling her into shape, with a curious half-regretful glance.

"I couldn't do it," she said.

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"What?" asked Isabel, sitting little Leila up, and then tending her in true motherly style.

"I couldn't do as you do with that little darling. When she is happy and wants to frolic, I get along with her very well; but if she gets in a tumble, or cries, I am at once in despair; but you do just the right thing."

"That is because I am her mother," said Isabel, with pride. "If you were her mother, you'd know how. Wouldn't she, tootsey ?"

But "tootsey" was fast returning to the land of dreams, whence she had so unpropitiously insisted upon coming a while ago, and at noon she was again sleeping soundly, so that Fred, coming in somewhat boisterously, was "hushed up" at once, aud drawn quickly out of the room by Leila, who said:

ears like a gust of the storm which was subsiding.

The baby uttered a little cry of displeasure, and began rubbing her eyes with her hands vigorously.

"O there!" whispered Leila, "you've waked her up, you wicked man."

But Isabel soothed her gently, whilst Fred stood with his hand over his mouth, and a look but half genuine on his face of great distress.

66

"Now come to dinner," said Leila, and leave the darling at peace."

While they were dining, the wind, which had begun whisking about from quarter to quarter, settled propitiously, and the sun began to peep dimly through the vapory fleeting clouds.

"It's going to be a pleasant afternoon," said Isabel; "and I must make my preparations for going home."

"O. I do not believe the sun will get out," said Leila, encouragingly. cannot go home to-night."

"You

"Has Miss Malcolm waked up?" asked Fred, listening intently for a moment.

"It is about time," said Isabel, hastening to the little girl, who was wide awake again and ready for another frolic.

"But you do not answer me, Fred," said Leila, persistently. "Wont you look at that house lot, and think about it ?"

"What's the use ?" asked Fred. "Ketcher, ketcher, ketcher!" to the baby, who responded warmly by pulling his hair, which he recklessly placed at her disposal. The use?"

"Yes, I've bought it-already-and— ketcher, ketcher, ketcher- I've engaged an architect-O!" For simultaneously the baby stuck her finger in his eye and Leila grasped him about the neck with an embrace that almost strangled him.

"Delightful!" exclaimed she and Isabel in a breath.

"You are the very best of men," said Leila, “and the most provoking."

"And the most injured," said Fred. "Mrs. Malcolm, you must teach your child better manners before we come to live in our new house-or I shan't go to see you."

"Very well," said Isabel, "you needn't come then." And she began putting up her work preparatory to going home.

"You must order the carriage, Fred," said Leila, "for she will go."

"All that trouble saved," said Fred, glancing from the window, "for there come Mr. Malcolm and the children. I suppose they'll let you go home with them, Mrs. Malcolm ?"

"Probably, Mr. Markham."

"And I suppose," said Leila, "that now they have come, nobody will go home until after tea." To which arrangement no one seemed averse, especially not the children, who were in an ecstasy of delight at the prospect of remaining.

Leila ordered the best of teas, and made herself a certain kind of cake that she knew Alice and Anna were extremely fond of. More than that, she let them go into the kitchen with her while she was making it; a privilege they much enjoyed.

"Alice made a pie the other day," Anna announced, somewhat proudly. "A good pie ?" asked Leila.

"Philbert said it was," said Alice. "Philbert! O!" And Leila rushed from the kitchen, up stairs, whilst Alice and Anna just tasted of the dough she left half stirred, to see if it was good.

"Pretty good," said Alice.

"I think it's very uncommonly good," said Anna.

Alice took another taste, to be sure, when Leila returned as suddenly as she left. "I'm so glad you spoke of Philbert," she said. "Uncle Fred is going to ask him to tea."

"Philbert gave me a locket," said Alice, "and I gave him one. I've got a piece of his hair in mine, and he's got a piece of mine in his."

"Uncle Rick gave me one," said Anna. "It's got his face one side, and Aunt Isabel's the other."

Leila looked at the lockets and admired them, put her cakes in the oven, leaving them to Bridget's care, sure that they would come beautifully browned upon the table.

Bridget had lived with Fred during Mr. Sterne's reign, and now, under the new dispensation, she had come again to live with him, and Leila found in her a most faithful and invaluable servant.

"Little Miss Malcolm," as Fred insisted upon calling her, much to Anna's distress, behaved herself beautifully, and toward night again went dutifully to sleep, leaving her friends to discuss her charms at the tea-table.

Philbert came in late, full of spirits, and delighted with everything and everybody. He sat next to Alice at the table, and she slipped upon his plate one of the daintiest of Leila's cakes, that she had kept for him.

Tea over, after much kissing, and embracing, and promising to come again, and to return the visit, etc., Mr. Malcolm departed with Isabel and little Leila, leaving Anna and Alice, in a state of untold bliss, to spend the night.

Philbert remained a while, and Leila told him of their plans for a country residence, that met his warmest approbation.

"Shall you have two places to live ?" asked Anna, who had been listening gravely all the evening to what was said, and was talking it over with Alice, after Leila had left them for the night, in a prettily furnished little room, where she told them she used to sleep when she was their age, and Fred's father and mother were alive.

"I presume so," said Alice, "when I am married; ever so many."

"Ever so many in the country, and ever so many in the city ?"

"Yes," answered Alice, sleepily.

"May I have some of them ?" asked Anna. But Alice was sleeping soundly, and did not answer her.

Before the open fire, which Fred had poked into a blaze, sat Leila and himself. "You are such a darling!" she said. "And so are you," said Fred.

"Two days longer, and then we shall go. Hurrah hi, and a hurrah ho!"

"Oh-h-h! St-t-op!"

"Loo going to be there ?" asked George." "That's splendid. I think Loo's real

pretty."

"She aint half so pretty as Annie," said his brother," and neither of them compares with Isabel."

"You have never seen Isabel," said his mother.

"I've seen her picture. It's in the album."

"O, the one with a blue sack on," said George; "yes she is pretty, but her hair is short, and it doesn't shine like Loo's. Loo's got such pretty curls."

Prettier than ever he thought them when on Thanksgiving day he beheld his Cousin Louise dressed in a bright plaid, with such a pretty colored ribbon tying her hair that