or

| come as soon as I can.”

146
voice to whom Nest had introduced him two
Sundays before.

“JT am sorry you only find an interloper here,”
said Flora, rising. ‘‘ Nest did not expect you so
soon; she thought you were coming by the next
train.”

“J am the interloper, I fear,” said Edward,
always ready with the obvious thing to say.
“ Pray, don’t let me disturb you.”

And thus plunged into conversation, they went
on, and prospered very well. Flora could talk
amusingly; if not so thoughtfully as Nest, nor so
merrily as Winny, at least more brilliantly than
either. Before long they were quite upon confi-
dential terms, and Flora had managed to convey
to Mr. Anderson’s mind the idea that she was a
decidedly ill-used person. It must be said in
extenuation #at she thoroughly believed it. As
thus :—

“Wave you
Armyn ?”

“No” (with a little sigh).
London.”

“ Why not?

“J wish I could make papa think so.”
cetera, et cetera.

Again :—

“T wonder that I have never met you, except
that once after church, since you are so intimate
with the Misses Williams.”

“JT am scarcely at all my own mistress,” said
Flora, in a melancholy tone. ‘Papa has such
military notions of making us do particular things
at particular times. But every one has a few
things of that sort to put up with; you must not
think I am complaining,” she added, with a very
pretty smile.

“JT was quite right, and he is an old martinet
after all,” said Edward to himself. ‘What a
horrid brute the man must be, though Nest does

bP)

seen the Academy yet, Miss

‘‘T never go to

Surely that is a great mistake.”

Et

think him so charming.
e At this stage in the conversation, wheels were
heard on the gravelled drive, and soon afterwards
the two aunts came into the room. They were
somewhat surprised at seeing Edward; and, when
Aunt Immy called out from the landing, in her
loud voice, “‘ Nest, here is Edward come already,”
Edward was a little nettled to hear Nest answer
in a pre-occupied tone, “ Please tell him I will
Edward, as a lord of the
creation, thought that Nest ought to have left all
her occupations, whatever they were, the moment
that he arrived, to rush to meet him and to over-
whelm him with tender inquiries about his health

| and well-being during the six days since they had

last met.
Meanwhile, Nest was administering sal volatile
and camphor to Winny, who had been upset by a

THE PANELLED HOUSE.

sudden fright in church, and had with difficulty held |
up until she reached home, when she had collapsed
entirely. Some of these merry, bright, highly-
strung little creatures are very sensitive to a shock
to the nerves; and Winny happened to have beem
sitting close to an Erconbury girl, whom she knew
slightly, when a sudden cough made her look
round, and she perceived Alice Deacon leaning
against the book-rest, fainting and deadly pale,
while a red stain on her handkerchief told that
there was more mischief than a mere swoon. The
girl had always been consumptive, and had long been
considered to be ina precarious state of health ; but
she had not been too ill to come to the cathedral
by herself, and none of her friends were near her
to see after her. Winny had to lift her up, to call
the verger’s attention to her, to accompany her out of
church—for the Misses Rivers and Nest were on the
opposite side, seats being scaree—and, finally, she
had gathered from the doctor who had been called
to her, that he considered her to have little chance
of recovery. Winny, though she had had her senses
well about her at the time of need, had little left of
them by the time she reached home, and was now
lying on her bed erying heartily.

“Don’t, dear,” said Nest, soothingly. ‘ Poor
Miss Deacon is not likely to die at once, I should
think ; and they will be so glad you were with her
to help her out of the crowd.”

“Oh, it isn’t that,” said Winny; “but it seems.
so dreadful to think that she will die. She is only
as old as me, Nest; we used to play together at
old Miss Brown’s. And now I can’t bear to think
of her leaving the sunshine, and all the pleasant
things there are in the world, and dying out of it,
going away from all.”

“But Winny, dear,” said Nest, a little shocked,
“she can’t go out of God’s sight, you know, though
she can out of ours.”

“Oh, I know that,” said Winny; “ but I think
IT am something like the girl in that story of yours,
Nest, who was in bondage to the dread of the Mist
King. Sometimes, when it comes over me that
some day I shall have to die myself, it seems too
dreadful to believe. It’s not that I am afraid of
what might come afterwards—it’s the fact of
having to die that is so horrible. D’m sure that if
I had been an early Christian, they might have
made me say or do any thing they liked by threat-
ening to kill me.”

Nest said nothing. She was at all times slow in
collecting her thoughts sufficiently to speak, when
the subject was an important one.

“J always hated hearing of any thing dying,”
went on Winny, more in her usual voice. ‘“ When
little Tommy Fisher died, and his mother wanted
me to go and see him, I ran right away out of the
house. I know it’s very stupid, Nest, and it’s not

eee