"Of course," said Mr. Rossitur haughtily as he went on with his walk, "I do not expect any more than you to live in the backwoods the life we have been leading here. That is at an end.”

"Is it a very wild country?" asked Mrs. Rossitur of the doctor.

"No wild beasts, my dear, if that is your meaning,-- and I do not suppose there are even many snakes left by this time."

66

No, but dear uncle, I mean, is it in an unsettled state?" "No my dear, not at all,- perfectly quiet."

"Ah but, do not play with me," exclaimed poor Mrs. Rossitur between laughing and crying;-"I mean is it far from any town and not among neighbours ?"

"Far enough to be out of the way of morning calls," said the doctor;--" and when your neighbours come to see you they will expect tea by four o'clock. There are not a great many near by, but they don't mind coming from five or six miles off."

Mrs. Rossitur looked chilled and horrified. To her he had described a very wild country indeed. Fleda would have laughed if it had not been for her aunt's face; but that settled down into a doubtful anxious look that pained her. It pained the old doctor too.

Come," said he touching her pretty chin with his fore finger,--"what are you thinking of? folks may be good folks and yet have tea at four o'clock, mayn't they?"

"When do they have dinner!" said Mrs. Rossitur.

"I really don't know. When you get settled up there I'll come and see.”

66

Hardly," said Mrs. Rossitur. "I don't believe it would be possible for Emile to get dinner before the tea-time; and I am sure I shouldn't like to propose such a thing to Mrs. Renney."

The doctor fidgeted about a little on the hearth-rug and looked comical, perfectly understood by one acute observer in the corner.

"Are you wise enough to imagine, Lucy," said Mr. Rossitur sternly, "that you can carry your whole establishment with you? What do you suppose Emile and Mrs. Renney would do in a farm-house?"

"I I can do without whatever you can," said Mrs. Rossitur meekly. "I did not know that you would be willing to part with Emile, and I do not think Mrs. Renney would like to leave us.”

66

"I told you before, it is no more a question of liking,” answered he.

"And if it were,” said the doctor, “I have no idea that Monsieur Emile and Madame Renney would be satisfied with the style of a country kitchen, or think the interior of Yankee land a hopeful sphere for their energies."

"What sort of a house is it?" said Mrs. Rossitur. "A wooden frame house, I believe.”

"No but, dear uncle, do tell me."

"What sort of a house?-Humph-Large enough, I am told. It will accommodate you, in one way."

"Comfortable ?"

"I don't know," said the doctor shaking his head;"depends on who's in it. No house is that per se. But I reckon there isn't much plate glass. I suppose you'll find the doors all painted blue, and every fireplace with a crane in it."

"A crane!" said Mrs. Rossitur, to whose imagination the word suggested nothing but a large water-bird with a long neck.

66

Ay!" said the doctor. "But it's just as well. You won't want hanging lamps there, and candelabra would hardly be in place either, to hold tallow candles."

"Tallow candles!" exclaimed Mrs. Rossitur. Her husband winced, but said nothing.

"Ay," said the doctor again," and make them yourself if you are a good housewife. Come Lucy," said he taking her hand, "do you know how the wild fowl do on the Chesapeake ?-duck and swim under water till they can shew their heads with safety? 'Twon't spoil your eyes to see by a tallow candle.'

Mrs. Rossitur half smiled, but looked anxiously towards. her husband.

Pooh, pooh! Rolf won't care what the light burns that lights him to independence,—and when you get there you may illuminate with a whole whale if you like. By the way, Rolf, there is a fine water power up yonder, and a

saw-mill in good order, they tell me, but a short way from the house. Hugh might learn to manage it, and it would be fine employment for him."

Hugh!" said his mother disconsolately. Mr. Rossitur neither spoke nor looked an answer. Fleda sprang for

ward.

"A saw-mill!-Uncle Orrin !-where is it ?" "Just a little way from the house, they say. You can't manage it, fair Saxon !-though you look as if you would undertake all the mills in creation, for a trifle.”

"No but the place, uncle Orrin;-where is the place?" "The place? Hum-why it's up in Wyandot Countysome five or six miles from the Montepoole Spring-what's this they call it ?-Queechy!--By the way!" said he, reading Fleda's countenance, "it is the very place where your father was born!--it is! I didn't think of that before."

Fleda's hands were clasped.

"O I am very glad!" she said. "It's my old home. It is the most lovely place, aunt Lucy!-most lovely-and we shall have some good neighbours there too. O I am very glad!-The dear old saw-mill!"

"Dear old saw-mill!" said the doctor looking at her. "Rolf, I'll tell you what, you shall give me this girl. I want her. I can take better care of her, perhaps, now than Let her come to me when you leave the cityit will be better for her than to help work the saw-mill; and I have as good a right to her as anybody, for Amy before her was like my own child.”

you can.

The doctor spoke not with his usual light jesting manner but very seriously. Hugh's lips parted,-Mrs. Rossitur looked with a sad thoughtful look at Fleda,-Mr. Rossitur walked up and down looking at nobody. Fleda watched him.

"What does Fleda herself say?" said he stopping short suddenly. His face softened and his eye changed as it fell upon her, for the first time that day. Fleda saw her opening; she came to him, within his arms, and laid her head upon his breast.

"What does Fleda say?" said he, softly kissing her. Fleda's tears said a good deal, that needed no interpreter.

She felt her uncle's hand passed more and more tenderly over her head, so tenderly that it made it all the more difficult for her to govern herself and stop her tears. But she did stop them, and looked up at him then with such a faceso glowing through smiles and tears-it was like a very rainbow of hope upon the cloud of their prospects. Mr. Rossitur felt the power of the sunbeam wand, it reached his heart; it was even with a smile that he said as he looked at her,

"Will you go to your uncle Orrin, Fleda ?”

"Not if uncle Rolf will keep me."

Keep you!" said Mr. Rossitur;-"I should like to see who wouldn't keep you!-There, Dr. Gregory, you have your answer.'

"Hum!-I might have known," said the doctor, “that the 'faire Una' would abjure cities.-Come here, you Elf!" —and he wrapped her in his arms so tight she could not stir,--“I have a spite against you for this. What amends will you make me for such an affront?"

“Let me take breath," said Fleda laughing, "and I'll tell you. You don't want any amends, uncle Orrin.”

Well,” said he, gazing with more feeling than he cared to shew into that sweet face, so innocent of apologymaking,—“ you shall promise me that you will not forget uncle Orrin and the old house in Bleecker street.'

Fleda's eyes grew more wistful.

"And will you promise me that if ever you want anything you will come or send straight there?"

If ever I want anything I can't get nor do without,” said Fleda.

"Pshaw !" said the doctor letting her go, but laughing at the same time. "Mind my words, Mr. and Mrs. Rossitur; if ever that girl takes the wrong bit in her mouth-Well, well! I'll go home."

Home he went. The rest drew together particularly near, round the fire; Hugh at his father's shoulder, and Fleda kneeling on the rug between her uncle and aunt with a hand on each; and there was not one of them whose gloom was not lightened by her bright face and cheerful words of hope that in the new scenes they were going to "they would all be so happy."

The days that followed were gloomy; but Fleda's ministry was unceasing. Hugh seconded her well, though more passively. Feeling less pain himself, he perhaps for that very reason was less acutely alive to it in others; not so quick to foresee and ward off, not so skilful to allay it. Fleda seemed to have intuition for the one and a charm for the other. To her there was pain in every parting; her sympathies clung to whatever wore the livery of habit. There was hardly any piece of furniture, there was no book or marble or picture, that she could take leave of without a pang. But it was kept to herself; her sorrowful good-byes were said in secret; before others, in all those weeks, she was a very Euphrosyne; light, bright, cheerful, of eye and foot and hand; a shield between her aunt and every annoyance that she could take instead; a good little fairy, that sent her sunbeam wand, quick as a flash, where any eye rested gloomily. People did not always find out where the light came from, but it was her witchery.

The creditors would touch none of Mrs. Rossitur's things, her husband's honourable behaviour had been so thorough. They even presented him with one or two pictures which he sold for a considerable sum; and to Mrs. Rossitur they gave up all the plate in daily use; a matter of great rejoicing to Fleda who knew well how sorely it would have been missed. She and her aunt had quite a little library too, of their own private store; a little one it was indeed, but the worth of every volume was now trebled in her eyes. Their furniture was all left behind; and in its stead went some of neat light painted wood which looked to Fleda deliciously countryfied. A promising cook and housemaid were engaged to go with them to the wilds; and about the first of April they turned their backs upon the city.

21