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THE SOUTHSHIRE MATCH.

O lassie, come o’er the hill,
Or round the neuk o’ the hill,
Or o’er the tap o’ the hill.
For I’m needin’ you sair the night,
I’m needin’ you sair the night.
For I’m tired an’ sick 0’ mysel’ :
A body’s sel’s the sairest weight—

O lassie, come o’er the hill!
G. MAcDONALD.

Tue summer of the first year in which the Armyns
were at Lyke was an exceptionally fine one. Day
after day the sun rose and set in a cloudless sky,
and a cool south-east wind tempered his beams so
that they did not scorch ; expeditions came to be
planned and carried out with no misgiving as to
the weather breaking up; and the world in general
seemed to be happier and better-tempered for the
unusual treat.

The companionship of the young Armyns brought
a certain amount of gaiety and excitement even to
the quietude of the Panelled House. Nest and
Winny both rode, and riding-parties were organized
over which Colonel Armyn presided. On these
occasions, Flora, Escott, and Winny used to ride
on in front, talking unrestrained youthful chatter,
while Nest rode behind with Colonel Armyn,
enjoying his companionship much more than she
would have done that of her own contemporaries.
Sometimes they rode as far as the downs to the
south, whence the broad blue sea spread out before
them up to the high misty horizon; sometimes
they chose the wooded country, where the trees
flecked the soft grey path with their dancing
shadows ; but whichever way they went, there was
natural beauty in abundance for them to see, and
Colonel Armyn liked to watch his little companion
as she paused before some especially beautiful
scene, and seemed to drink it into her heart. Nest’s
mind was essentially receptive, and such pleasures
as these were more to her taste than the nonsense
of the other three, of which Winny was the life
and soul.

Winny was some little anxiety to her aunts
during this summer. They often used to discuss
her and sigh over her with one another. A small
_ piece of gaiety was so delightful to her, and raised
her spirits so much, that she counted on it for days
beforehand ; and when it came, she was not oftén
_ disappointed in her hope of enjoying it. Men and

women were equally attracted by the bright face
and the merriment of the gleeful voice ; if it was
a dance, Winny’s list was filled up before that of
any girl in the room; if it was a game of croquet
every one was wild to have her on their side. If
her aunts hoped that this was only novelty, and
would pall upon her before long, it was a forlorn
hope upon their part; every party she went to

ne ee ee

80 THE PANELLED HOUSE.

seemed, by her account, to be more delightful than
the last; and her time was principally spent in
altering and re-decorating her dresses. The best
symptom about her, however, was that in spite of
all this giddiness and frivolity, as her aunts thought
it, she did not flag when she was alone at home
with Nest; they could not allege against her that
it made her discontented and idle, for the child
seemed to be as merry and sweet-tempered as she
had been when a walk into Erconbury twice a
week had been her most exciting pleasure.

“As for Nest,” said Aunt Hermy anxiously to
her sister one day, “I can understand her, dear
child. She is very like what Cordelia used to be.
But poor Winny seems to be a ready-made fashion-
able beauty, and. I don’t know how to deal with
her, I confess. Yet she is not naughty, there is
nothing to take hold of.”

“That is true,” said Aunt Immy; “you can’t
scold the child for being pretty and pleasant.”

‘But it must be very dangerous for her all the
same. If it leads her to be perfectly happy and
satisfied in this world, how is she to learn to think
of another? I never yet knew a girl who was
not spoilt by being sought after and admired as
she is.”

“Yes, Mrs. Bernard Grey was quite angry
because we would not let her go with her to the
Talbury ball,” said Aunt Immy.

“Winny would have liked nothing better than
to have gone if we had let her.”

“Yes, as if we would trust her to a flighty
young gay widow like that, who ought to have a
chaperon herself !”

“And I always think that Cordelia will call
us to account if the children go wrong,” said poor |
Aunt Hermy, with tears in her eyes.

“Tf she does, I shall just say, ‘My dear Cordelia
we’ve done our best, and could do no more,’” said
Aunt Immy. ‘Besides, Hermy, I really do think
you are taking misfortunes by the forelock. Winny |
is only sixteen after all.”

All this time the two aunts little knew what |
influence was taking root in Winny’s soul which
was to have the taming and steadying power upon
her that they so much desired. If they had known, |
they, perhaps, with the short-sightedness of mortals,
would have thought it the greatest peril of all. |

The fact was, that Escott and Winny were begin- |
ning to like one another. There seemed to be little |
in common between the big, rough, lubberly boy |
and the little brown fairy with all her life and fun.
Perhaps her interest in him began in the same |
way as her love for a certain pet of her childhood |
—an ungainly cur-dog, whom she had taken into |
her affections because it had attached itself to her, |
and would not answer to its name when called by |
any one else. In the same way, she had first