Everything was quiet. She worked until one, and then turned off the gas. Just as she was wrapping a shawl around her to lie down, she thought she heard a noise, as of some one raising a window in the next room. She listened intently, and was sure she was not deceived.

Instantly she thought of Mr. La Rue's money, and decided that there was a burglar in the building. Strangely enough she did not feel afraid-she was inspired only by the desire to save her partner's property.

She opened her door a crack and peered through, and by the light of a dim lantern, carried by the burglar himself, she saw a stout, ruffianly-looking fellow standing in the centre of the room, evidently taking an examination of the place.

Suddenly his face lighted, as he caught a glimpse of the great safe. He darted toward it, examined the lock, and taking a key from a bunch he carried, fitted it to the lock. Immediately the door flew open, and he stepped inside.

The safe was built into the wall like a cupboard, and the man began carefully inspecting the different packages on the shelves.

A sudden thought shot through Juliet's brain, and quick as light she sprang forward, crashed together the iron doors of the safe, and slid the bolt! Then rushing to the open window by which he had entered, she put it down, lifted the heavy shutters on the inside, and dropped the strong bar across them.

The prisoner was cursing and swearing at a fearful rate, but Juliet had no fear of his making his escape.

She went back to her room, got a chair and some matches, and a shawl to wrap herself in. She lit the gas, took her chair up in front of the safe, and prepared to spend the night there. It was so late she did not dare go out on the street, and she did not know as Mr. La Rue would approve of her calling the police; so she decided to wait there until he came.

The night wore away very slowly, and at last the captive stopped swearing, and all was quiet. Juliet could not sleep, and by the time Mr. La Rue came, at five in the morning, she had got as nervous as any other woman.

He had come so early because he wanted to send the money by the agent, on the first train South.

At sight of Juliet, he stopped whistling and stood still, evidently thinking the girl had lost her senses.

"Why, Miss Wayne-" he began; but she interrupted him.

"There is a burglar in the safe-please see to him. I fear he is suffocated, for he has not sworn an oath for the past two hours." "How came he there?"

"He got in through the window, and I fortunately heard him in season to rush in and close the door of the safe on him.”

But how happened it you were here?" "I remained to finish some work."

Mr. La Rue opened the door, and found t'e man lying in a swoon on the floor. He bom.d his feet and hands, and sent Sam the porter, who arrived at that moment, after the police. And by the time they came, the burglar had got his breath again, and swore loud enough to make up for lost time.

After he was disposed of, Mr. La Rue found Juliet in the sewing-room.

"You are a very brave girl, Miss Wayne," he said, with feeling; "and I thank you for what you did for me. But I want you to promise me something. Will you?"

"What is it ?"

"That you will never stay here another night. It is not safe. I will not permit it. Promise me-Juliet."

"But if I had not been here last night, you would have lost your money."

"My money is not to be compared to your safety. Promise me."

"Certainly, if you wish it."

"That is my good girl. Go home now and sleep-your eyes are heavy-and do not come back until you are rested." And Mr. La Rue, audaciously enough, considering that he was engaged to another woman, bent down and touched his lips to her hand.

Juliet went home and laid down, and kissed the white hand just where he had kissed it, which was very silly of her, but then girls are foolish about some things.

The next day she saw him riding with Miss Howardson, and after that the beautiful sunshine seemed very dim to her, and she wondered what made her feel so tired and spiritless.

Miss Giles gossiped about the wedding, for they were to be married before very long, she said. Mr. La Rue was already having his handsome house refitted and furnished.

Juliet wished she would not talk so much, but she did not say so, though she was very glad when it was time to go to tea. The walk in the cool, fresh air would do her good, she thought.

It was the last of March, but it was still sleighing, and a new snow had just fallen. Half way to Mrs. Smith's a sleigh stopped beside her, and glancing up, she saw Gerard La Rue. He threw back the buffaloes and sprang out.

"I have been looking for you," he said, "and I am so glad you are come. It is such fine sleighing!" And before she could offer any objections, he had lifted her into the sleigh and was brushing the snow from lier little Polish boots-for Juliet did not wear

old things now. Then he tucked the robes around her, and they were off.

"It is so warm we will go entirely out into the country, if you like," said he. "The young moon will light us back."

"I have not had a sleigh ride in four years," she said, dreamily; "but, indeed, I fear I ought not to go. It may be improper-"

"No, it is perfectly proper, and I am going to take you in spite of everything. Why, Juliet, I have been anticipating this all day."

He put his arm around her—for they were quite in the country now-and asked, gently: "Are you warm, my darling?"

She started away from him, frightened at

the passionate tone of his voice; but he held her close to his heart.

"Juliet, I love you. I want you for my wife. You are my partner in business, but I must have a better claim on you than thata stronger hold. I want you for all time." "But Miss Howardson-"

"Miss Howardson has nothing to do with it, dearest."

"Then you are not going to marry her?" “Never, with my own consent, Juliet. She is a fine woman, but there is too much of her for me. I want a wife just large enough to fill my arms, as she fills my heart; and my Juliet is the only one in all the world who just meets my requirements. Say you love me, Juliet."

"I do," she said, innocently. "But I never thought you-" And then she stopped, confused and blushing.

"But I did. I loved you the moment I saw you. And my Aunt Patty is a good fairy; I shall respect her always."

And then Gerard kissed Juliet's lips, feeling sure that no other man had kissed her so.

It was a very pleasant ride back to the city; and two months afterward, Mr. and Mrs. La Rue went to Europe on their bridal tour.

O, what has come over my little maid, That her bright head droops in this pensive way?

And she keeps in the garden's stilly shade,
With a dream in her sweet brown eyes all day.

Where the fountain falls, with its silver drip,
Over the lilies so snowy and fair,
And every wind has a song on its lip,
And every sunbeam a bee in its hair,

Amid the red roses and butterflies

She sits, at the foot of the linden tree, While a volume of sleepy old romance lies Unheeded, though open, upon her knee.

For Effie is weaving a romance more glad, And sweeter, and stranger, than e'er was told, With never a chapter that's gloomy or sad, Fresh as the morning, and still so old!

Effie is looking on pictures more bright
Than even the June time itself can show-
Pictures all crossed with rainbows and light,
Sunshine radiance and blossomy glow.
And Effie, my dear, I see pictures, too!

I read all the secrets in bonnie brown eyes; Don't think you can hide them, for I see through

The curls and the lashes; and, Effie, I'm wise! A little bird told me a tale last night,- [wing, That came from the garden, with dew on his And stopped on the lawn in the sunset light, Mid the red laurels, to gossip and sing,About two young lovers-now, who might they be?

That were talking low, in such tender tone, On the old seat under the linden tree,

Where fountains are playing and lilies blown.

JULY had come again; and with it heat and weariness to city dwellers. No wonder houses were closed, in the hot, pent-up streets. No wonder that many a farmhouse among the hills and mountains of Vermont and New Hampshire were thronged with happy, cheerful faces; faces not entirely strange, but strangely altered in the years that have passed since they dwelt all the year round within those walls. Some new faces have also appeared. A gentle, loving bride accompanies the son to his childhood's home. A daughter claims a parent's blessing, and a seat by the old hearth-stone for her noble husband.

This summer, Farmer Andrews welcomes all his four boys home-I, John, the oldest feel a little hand quiver in mine as we alight before the old gate. Tremble not, my darling! Only loving hearts await thee! Only gentle words will be spoken to thee here in thy husband's home.

་

Rain storms will come even in July. Two days the storm had continued, and as night came on the wind veered round into the east chill as November. Cows sought shelter in the winter stables, hens were nowhere to be seen. Ponto, our little, old, yellow dog, who never parted company with his masters, lay snugly curled in a corner by the ample kitchen fire. Conversation flagged. All listened to the moaning wind, or the branches of the butternut tree dashing wildly against the steep roof, while now and then a mass of wet soot fell hissing upon the hot fire.

"O mother," said little Nellie, our only sister, "tell Susie a story about the times when you first lived here. It's a real nice night for a story."

“I am afraid Susie wont like my stories as well as you do."

"O yes, she will, mother; I know she will." "Susie has always lived in the city, you know, and is not used to our rough ways."

“I am sure I shall like the story all the better for that. Do tell us one," said my young wife.

"Well, what shall it be?"

"Anything, anything; only, perhaps, you will choose one of the wildest-so as to fit the night," said gentle Susie.

Mother looked at her boys with a little trouble in her eye, for she almost reverenced the superior culture and polish of my wife; but the usual calm returned to her broad, high brow, as, looking steadily a moment into the gleaming coals, she began:

"This night is much like one I remembernot many years after father and I were married and moved to this house. Our home had been in H-n, New Hampshire, but land was cheap and fertile here in G-n, and so we were married and came to this place. It was all woods around us then, except two acres just about the house, and the sevenacre lot just opposite. I was not used to such scenes, though I was a farmer's daughter. There were no neighbors within half a mile, and the road lay through the woods. I was not much afraid, for father was with me, and my faith in God's ever-watchful care was strong. We got on very well for several years; father had cleared more land, the seven-acre lot was planted with corn, and a pasture stretched along the south side of it, and back into the woods. That hill yonder was all woods then.

"About the middle of one July, father was obliged to go away on business, and leave me alone. He looked rather sad as he kissed me, and told me to keep up good courage; he would be away only two nights.

"It was a clear, beautiful morning; and after I had been hard at work several hours, making cheese, churning and doing common work, I felt pretty cheerful. So I took some sewing and called John to come and say his lessons. Tommy, there, was asleep in his cradle. John had got mostly through, when he cried out, "The red heifer is in the corn.'

"I ran out, bidding him to roek Tommy till I came back. After a hard run the mischievous animal leaped back into the pasture, making a second breach in the fence. These must both be stopped, or the corn would be destroyed, and the cattle as well.

"I ran to the house for an axe, just looking into the kitchen to tell John I would soon return. I went back to the fence, replaced one of the broken-down stakes, and struck a moderate blow upon the upper end, thinking I would work leisurely. The sound was

echoed back from every side, clear and distinct; and before the reverberation had ceased, another sound came from the woods, a few rods beyond the fields. The cattle, which were all standing a little way from me, pricked up their ears, and wheeled close together, facing the direction of the sound.

"Another blow, another echo; again that loud call, and now it was answered by a similar one, at a greater distance. Though the call was new to me, I doubted not two bears were near, and the terror of my dumb companions confirmed my opinion. I thought for one instant they might be frightened by the noise I was making and retire; but upon giving another blow the call was nearer. Turning hastily toward the gateway by which the cattle entered the pasture, I opened it, closely followed by cattle old and young, and six sheep, which had fled from the woods in hot haste at the first sound of the bears. Securing the cattle in the barn with many hasty glances in the direction of the slowly approaching, dreadful calls, I seized a measure of corn end ran toward the house, calling my poultry. The last chick entered the little back-room with me, as two large bears leisurely tumbled over the fence into the road. I always kept the house pretty well shut up when father was away, and now I only had a door or two to close and bar, and we were as safe as we could be.

"What was before me? The two bears might reconnoitre, return to the corn-field, make their dinner there, and trouble me no more; but while the thought was still in my mind they turned toward the barn, attracted no doubt by the bleating of my pet sheep. Round and round it they walked, sniffing here and there, and now and then biting at the corner of a timber. I did not much fear their getting into the barn, for it was very stoutly built of logs. But how long we might be kept prisoners I knew not.

"Father's gun caught my eye.

"Why not shoot one of them if I have a chance?' said I.

"I took the gun down-drew the charge of shot, loaded it anew, and returned to the window whence I had watched my foes. I had closed the shutters all around, except the upper half of this one.

"Tired of wandering round the barn, the monsters turned towards the house. I dashed the breech of my gun through a pane of glass, that I might have a porthole from which to fire in case of an opportunity. Resting the

barrel of my gun in the breach thus made, I paused. Steadily they came on, unconscious of any evil intent on my part. They paused. My gun covered the front of the first. Dizzier than ever in my life, I pulled the trigger-my shot was true. The male lay dead. The female smelled round and round it, moaned, I thought called its mate in tones full of grief; but I had not much time to think, watching my foe, reloading my gun, quieting my boys, who were screaming with fright; I took as good aim as before. Success had nerved my arm; still my second ball only wounded the living bear. Perceiving her adversary, she dashed towards the window. I seized a blazing brand from the hearth-"

"Was it this hearth, and that window?" cried little Susie.

"Yes, dear, this hearth and that window. As I was saying, I flung it full in her face, as she put her vicious nose in at the broken pane. She started back with a dismal howl, and I fell to loading my gun for the third and last time, for to my horror, I saw there was but one bullet left. The bear crawled halfblinded back to its mate and lay down by its side.

"I aimed again just behind the shoulder; but my courage failed for an instant. Should this shot not prove true what would be our fate! But it was my only chance. I fired and again seized my brand. When I looked forth I found my adversary had changed her position, but seemed content with watching her foe.

"During this time, the sky had become overcast unobserved by me, and now a fine rain began to fall. Hastily giving the boys some bread and a basin of milk, I assumed my post. Day waned, night came on. With the last ray of daylight the bear was still alive.

"No longer able to see my foe, I rejoiced when the poultry were settled for the night, and hushing Tommy to sleep, Iplaced him by his brother, who had fallen asleep in one corner of the settle.

"My children, I hardly know how the night wore away. Every time the butternut swept against the house, I thought it the bear scrambling up at the window. Many times in the lull of the storm, I heard her low growling.

"Day came at last, heralded by crowing of cocks, lowing of cattle, bleating of sheep, all impatient of their long imprisonment without food or water. My heart sunk within me,