WINNIE CORSELLIS; OR, DEATH IN THE POT.

227

and kissing the rosy mouth that was held up to
him ; “and what have you been doing since you
saw me last ?” <

“Trot ride,” she exclaimed, instantly opening
her blue eyes to their very widest to impress the
astonishing fact on her hearer. “Trot ride!
great big geegee—so big ;” and she spread her
little arms to indicate the vast size of the horse
she had ventured to mount.

** And didn’t Trot fall off ?”

NON:

“Did Aunt Winnie ride too, and Carrie ?”

“Carrie ride, Aunt Winnie sit still.”

“What on the geegee’s back ?”

Now hay.

“Does Trot want to come home again?” he
asked presently after a little more conversation,
very emphatic on Trot’s part, yet requiring a certain
amount of interpretation.

‘No, me want you here; poor papa stay with Trot.”

“Papa would like to,” replied Mr. Hammond
with a sigh, as he remembered that half his brief
holiday was over and that he must soon go away
again; “let us make haste and dress,” he added, as

“then we can see the geegee, you know; perhaps
he will let me ride him.”

“Yes, papa ride,” said Trot joyfully, and she
scrambled off the bed and made her way to the nur-
sery, whence she presently emerged more rosy than
before, and announced herself as ready for breakfast.

All that day they were out of doors, now in the
fields, now among the beech-trees on the hill-top
listening to the pleasant murmur of the leaves, as
they swayed gently in the breeze which was never
quite at rest on the summit of Beechley Hill.

“Tt will be Ferrars’ turn next, Winnie,” he
said, as they stood at the door. “I wonder if
you know what a good fellow heis! I don’t think
I do, for I am always finding out something I had
not suspected before.”

“Are you?” said Winnie, with a bright, pleased
smile hovering over her face.

“Yes,” and then he told her something of their
conversation on the previous evening. “I never
suspected him of thinking so earnestly about re-

| ligious subjects, and bringing things of every day

life up to that standard.”

“He is very quiet about it,” answered Winnie ;
from which reply her brother-in-law gathered that
she knew more about George Ferrars than he did.

“J shall send him over as soon as I can. It has

| been anxious work for you I know, poor child; but

he will run no unnecessary risks.”
“YT don’t think he will, but there is danger

| enough for both of you that cannot be avoided, and

I can’t help thinking about it.”
The large tears would not be kept back, though

| Winnie did not want Mr. Hammond to see her
_erying, so she ran away upstairs.
the little face gathered into wrinkles for a cry ; |

“Ah, poor thing,” said Mrs. Ramsay as she
passed through the kitchen, “her frets above a bit,
her ain’t looking as peart as when her come up first.”

“T don’t think she does,” replied Mr. Hammond,
shaking hands withthe old lady ; “ she hardly does

| credit to your fine air.”

‘¢ Air won’t cure folks’ troubles, sir! and young
ones they can’t take things quiet-like, they must
be worretting about what is to come, though happen

| it never do come after all.”

“That is often the case. Good-bye, Mrs. Ramsay;

| take care of my wife and Miss Corsellis: I shall not

By-and-by they wandered down the lanes, and |
then strolled up again through the meadows by |

the side of the noisy little brook which danced
and sparkled as it ran; and Mr. Hammond made
paper boats for Carrie and Trot to sail in the
stream, but the current was too strong, and the

frail vessels were upset in the eddies or carried |

over a rapid and swamped.
“ Naughty water kill mine boat

19>

cried Trot,

indignantly, as one paper treasure after another |

was destroyed.

*“Den’t scold the water, Trot,” said Winnie,
jJaughing ; “look how pretty it is.”

“Pretty,” assented Trot, with a nod; “naughty
too, naughty water.”

Trot was right, only none of them knew it, or
had any idea that it was doing worse things than
destroying paper boats.

Mr. Hammond’s holiday came to an end too soon
| for them all, but there was no word spoken of
| delay, and as soon as tea was over he ordered the
mare to come round.

| the lane with his wife.

want them at home yet.”

“We'll take care on ’em, sir; they’re better here
till the sickness is clear gone.
fear of its getting to Beechley.”

**T hope not indeed,” said Mr. Hammond, as he
went out to his horse; but instead of mounting, he
put his bridle-rein over his arm, and walked down
As they descended they

There ain’t much

'met a trap, such as grocers use to send out their

goods, being driven rapidly up the hill.

“They are going fast,” remarked Mr. Hammond,
as he drew aside to let it pass.

Two men sat in front, and behind there was
either a large bundle, or some one lying down—it
was almost too dusky to see which.

“J wonder where they are going,” he said.

“Oh, we often meet things in these lanes; people
come out to the farms for poultry, and so on.”

Then they spoke of other matters, particularly
about Winnie.

“ She does not look well, Jane: what is the matter
with her ?”

ee ee eee

Q 2