"what makes you look so sad everard; isabel was not much hurt; not hurt at all i may say."

"i was not thinking of her just now emmy," he answered smiling, but the smile passed away, and left his face very sad indeed.

"what is it evvie," she asked in the old coaxing way, seating herself beside him on the seat round the old elm tree.

"i was thinking of grace," he replied "you can't think how her keeping away pains me."

"i wouldn't think of it, if i were you, it is very mean and ill-natured of her, but she will get over her huff after a while."

"that would be all very well, if i were going to remain here, but you know how soon i go and----"

"oh everard," (emmy could not contemplate this event with composure) "oh everard, i can't bear you to go, and she threw her arms round his neck, weeping passionately.

his sisters were not much given to tears, this one in particular, the brightest of them all, so that this genuine bust of grief was the more perplexing.

he was endeavouring in vain to soothe her, when little emmy came upon the scene, and seeing her mamma in trouble, she set up a terrific howling, and running at everard, she seized his coat to steady herself and commenced to kick him with all the force she could muster, exclaiming "naughty, naughty, to make my mamma cry."

this warlike attack upon her brother set emily laughing, while he feigned to be desperately hurt by the tiny feet at which the round blue eyes grew wonderfully well satisfied. isabel now joined them alarmed by the cries of her little playmate. emmy looking very brave scrambled upon mamma's knee, from whence she darted very defiant glances at her uncle.

"i think i will go to ashton park" said everard.

"do you think that it will do any good" asked emily.

"i hope so, grace is not bad hearted, only vexed, besides, i should wish to leave on good terms with the old lady."

"i have no doubt that she pities you immensely." everard laughed "i will go now" he said, "and we hope you may be successful" returned both warmly.

"good evening lady ashton" said everard when he arrived at the park; entering the drawing-room from the lawn.

"oh is that you, you poor unfortunate boy," returned her ladyship compassionately.

"pray spare your pity, for some more deserving individual," answered everard laughing, "i think myself the most fortunate of mortals."

"don't come to me with your nonsense, you are very silly, and have behaved in a most dishonorable manner towards your family."

"will you be kind enough to state in what way," replied everard colouring, "i confess i can't see it."

"why, in offering to that governess girl."

"you are severe."

"oh i haven't patience with you; my sympathy is all with poor grace, who feels quite disgraced by it."

"she cannot think so, seriously, or if she does, she ought to be ashamed.

"hoighty, toighty, how we are coming the parson to-night."

"pshaw," exclaimed everard impatiently.

"i think she is justly angry and aggrieved. of course in receiving so young and pretty a girl, as governess for your sisters, (for i allow that she is pretty.) "oh you do," said everard sarcastically. "your mother" continued lady ashton "relied upon your honorable feelings, and good sense, but you have abused her confidence in a most cruel manner."

the swelling veins, and heavy breathing showed how annoyed he was, and he answered warmly, "i deny having done anything wrong or dishonorable, i presume that i have a perfect right to choose for myself."

"to a certain extent i grant, but you owe something to the feelings of your family."

"they have no cause of complaint, isabel is quite their equal if not superior."

"in your estimation," said lady ashton contemptuously.

"i don't care to discuss the subject" returned everard haughtily.

"reverse the matter, how would you like it, if grace was going to marry a tutor."

"if he was a worthy person, and grace was satisfied, i certainly should not object."

"i doubt it," cried lady ashton angrily. then she commenced aspersing isabel in every way, and everard hotly defended her. "nasty, artful, designing girl, you will live to repent your folly yet," she said. then everard got in a terrible passion newly ordained though he was. but lady ashton was a woman, and everard arlington never forgot when he was in the presence of ladies, so though they most decidedly quarrelled, everard saying some pretty severe things, he managed to keep the cooler of the two, lady ashton being as spiteful as only lady ashton could be. so instead of conciliating grace he had only made matters worse; as he supposed; but lady ashton really loved her god-son, and in her heart admired him for his spirit.

everard's anger once roused was not easily appeased, so that after he left ashton park, he took a ten mile walk in the moonlight before he was sufficiently calm to venture home. "what is the matter" asked his mother when he did.

"i have been in a tremendous passion, and am not quite cooled down yet" he answered, "good night."

the upshot of all this was, that on coming home one afternoon, everard found lady ashton, and grace waiting for him. "let bygones, be bygones," said the former taking his hand, while grace offered hers with a dignified condescension that was truly amusing, everard was only too glad to have a cessation of hostilities, and responded cordially to the overtures of peace.

then lady ashton insisted upon giving them a farewell party, she would take no denial, saying that if everard did not come, that she would not believe that he forgave her."

grace and emily were delighted, saying, it was the very thing, and alice was half wild with glee at being included in the invitation, and also allowed to go.

so isabel had a new white dress for the occasion, and now that she was no longer the governess, she arrayed herself with some of the beautiful and costly jewels, which her fathers creditors had refused to take, (though they were offered them by isabel,) which had not seen the light since she came to elm grove.

"oh isabel, now you look like yourself" said lucy, who had arrived just in time to be of the party.

"how sly of you isabel, not to let us see them before" cried emily examining them "what beauties," and mrs. arlington looked very approvingly at her future daughter-in-law. "i think that you are the proudest girl i ever saw, isabel," she said reproachfully.

"oh mamma, not proud, only sensitive," interposed alice warmly.

"i think you were wrong my dear" continued mrs. arlington without heeding alice.

"please don't', pleaded isabel the tears gathering in her eyes "i could not help feeling so, indeed i could not."

"don't blame her mamma, it does not matter now," put in emily.

"she was a stupid little goose to care so much about it; and i always said so," chimed in lucy.

"pray who is a stupid little goose," asked everard joining the group in the drawing-room.

"ask no questions----you know the rest" returned lucy saucily.

"dear me, how late we shall be" cried emily "what can make papa and harry so long."

"on arriving at the park, an unexpected pleasure caused a great deal of excitement. on entering the dressing-room they met ada. "oh, when did you come." i'm so glad." "how delightful." burst from them simultaneously, as ada was hugged in a manner that bid fair to ruin the effect of her careful toilet.

"didn't lucy tell you," asked ada amazed.

"not i," cried lucy triumphantly.

"oh lucy."

then a thundering rap at the door from harry, who was impatient to see his sister; made them hasten down, all in high spirits at the unlooked for meeting.

lady ashton hardly seemed herself she was so pleasant, and even grace did the agreeable to perfection.

lucy, lectured everard, and condemned severely his taking isabel to be eaten up by savages; as she persisted would be the case if he carried out his preposterous intentions. but everard only laughed. "i cannot see how you can reconcile it to your conscience, to doom such a girl as that, to so wretched an existence, look at her, is she fit for such a hum-drum-knock-about life."

"everard cast a very admiring glance at his bride elect, but his only answer was a rather sad smile.

"oh i see i am right," she cried, "i know you think that she is more fitted for civilized society, confess now, confess, i used to think you so considerate, but now i see you are very selfish.

"perhaps i am," and he walked out on the lawn, leaving lucy much astonished and very indignant.

"be merciful lucy," said charles offering his arm.

"not i," returned lucy, "i think it awfully cool."

"then it must be very refreshing this hot evening" said charles laughing.

"don't be provoking." i'm awfully angry."

"lucy!"

"charles!"