undertake any operation in the whole range of her cookery book. But meanwhile materials were growing scarce and hard to come by. The delicate French rolls which were now always ready for her uncle's plate in the morning had sometimes nothing to back them, unless the unfailing water-cress from the good little spring in the meadow. Fleda could not spare her eggs, for perhaps they might have nothing else to depend upon for dinner. It was no burden to her to do these things; she had a sufficient reward in seeing that her aunt and Hugh eat the better and that her uncle's brow was clear; but it was a burden when her hands were tied by the lack of means; for she knew the failure of the usual supply was bitterly felt, not for the actual want, but for that other want which it implied and prefigured.

On the first dismissal of Donghan Fleda hoped for a good turn of affairs. But Mr. Rossitur, disgusted with his first experiment resolved this season to be his own head man; and appointed Lucas Springer the second in command, with a posse of labourers to execute his decrees. It did not work well. Mr. Rossitur found he had a very tough prime minister, who would have every one of his plans to go through a kind of winnowing process by being tossed about in an argument. The arguments were interminable, until Mr. Rossitur not unfrequently quit the field with, "Well, do what you like about it!"-not conquered, but wearied. The labourers, either from want of ready money or of what they called "manners" in their employer, fell off at the wrong times, just when they were most wanted. Hugh threw himself then into the breach and wrought beyond his strength; and that tried Fleda worst of all. She was glad to see haying and harvest pass over; but the change of seasons seemed to bring only a change of disagreeableness, and she could not find that hope had any better breathingtime in the short days of winter than in the long days of summer. Her gentle face grew more gentle than ever, for under the shade of sorrowful patience which was always there now its meekness had no eclipse.

Mrs. Rossitur was struck with it one morning. She was coming down from her room and saw Fleda standing on the landing-place gazing out of the window. It was before

breakfast one cold morning in winter. Mrs. Rossitur put her arms round her softly and kissed her.

"What are you thinking about, dear Fleda?—you ought not to be standing here."

"I was looking at Hugh," said Fleda, and her eye went back to the window. Mrs. Rossitur's followed it. The window gave them a view of the ground behind the house; and there was Hugh, just coming in with a large armful of heavy wood which he had been sawing.

"He isn't strong enough to do that, aunt Lucy,” said Fleda softly.

"I know it," said his mother in a subdued tone, and not moving her eye, though Hugh had disappeared.

It is too cold for him-he is too thinly clad to bear this exposure," said Fleda anxiously.

I know it," said his mother again.

"Can't you tell uncle Rolf?-can't you get him to do it? I am afraid Hugh will hurt himself, aunt Lucy."

"I did tell him the other day I did speak to him about it," said Mrs. Rossitur; "but he said there was no reason why Hugh should do it, there were plenty of other people

"But how can he say so when he knows we never can ask Lucas to do anything of the kind, and that other man always contrives to be out of the way when he is wanted? -Oh what is he thinking of?" said Fleda bitterly, as she saw Hugh again at his work.

It was so rarely that Fleda was seen to shed tears that they always were a signal of dismay to any of the household. There was even agony in Mrs. Rossitur's voice as she implored her not to give way to them. But notwithstanding that, Fleda's tears came this time from too deep a spring to be stopped at once.

"It makes me feel as if all was lost, Fleda, when I see you do so,

Fleda put her arms about her neck and whispered that "she would not"-that "she should not"

Yet it was a little while before she could say any more. "But aunt Lucy, he doesn't know what he is doing!" "No--and I can't make him know. I cannot say anything more, Fleda-it would do no good. I don't know

what is the matter-he is entirely changed from what he used to be "

"I know what is the matter," said Fleda, now turning comforter in her turn as her aunt's tears fell more quietly, because more despairingly, than her own," I know what it is he is not happy ;—that is all. He has not succeeded well in these farm doings, and he wants money, and he is worried-it is no wonder if he don't seem exactly as he used to."

"And oh, that troubles me most of all!" said Mrs. Rossitur. "The farm is bringing in nothing, I know, he don't know how to get along with it,-I was afraid it would be so;—and we are paying nothing to uncle Orrin—and it is just a dead weight on his hands;-and I can't bear to think of it!-And what will it come to!-'

Mrs. Rossitur was now in her turn surprised into shewing the strength of her sorrows and apprehensions. Fleda was fain to put her own out of sight and bend her utmost powers to soothe and compose her aunt, till they could both go down to the breakfast table. She had got ready a nice little dish that her uncle was very fond of; but her pleasure in it was all gone; and indeed it seemed to be thrown away upon the whole table. Half the meal was over before any. body said a word.

"I am going to wash my hands of these miserable farm affairs," said Mr. Rossitur.

"Are you!" said his wife.

"Yes,-of all personal concern in them, that is. I am wearied to death with the perpetual annoyances and vexations, and petty calls upon my time-life is not worth having at such a rate! I'll have done with it.”

"You will give up the entire charge to Lucas?" said Mrs. Rossitur.

"Lucas !-No!-I wouldn't undergo that man's tongue for another year if he would take out his wages in talking. I could not have more of it in that case than I have had the last six months. After money, the thing that man loves best is certainly the sound of his own voice; and a most insufferable egotist! No,-I have been talking with a man who wants to take the whole farm for two years upon shares -that will clear me of all trouble."

There was sober silence for a few minutes, and then Mrs.

Rossitur asked who it was.

"His name is Didenhover."

"O uncle Rolf, don't have anything to do with him!” exclaimed Fleda.

Why not?"

"Because he lived with grandpa a great while ago, and behaved very ill. Grandpa had a great deal of trouble with him."

"How old were you then ?"

"I was young, to be sure," said Fleda hanging her head, "but I remember very well how it was."

I have

"You may have occasion to remember it a second time, said Mr. Rossitur dryly, "for the thing is done. engaged him."

Not another word was spoken.

Mr. Rossitur went out after breakfast, and Mrs. Rossitur busied herself with the breakfast cups and a tub of hot water, a work she never would let Fleda share with her and which lasted in consequence long enough, Barby said, to cook and eat three breakfasts. Fleda and Hugh sat looking at the floor and the fire respectively.

"I am going up the hill to get a sight of aunt Miriam," said Fleda, bringing her eyes from the fire upon her aunt. "Well dear, do. You have been shut up long enough by the snow. Wrap yourself up well, and put on my snowboots."

"No indeed!" said Fleda. "I shall just draw on another pair of stockings over my shoes, within my India-rubbersI will take a pair of Hugh's woollen ones.

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"What has become of your own ?" said Hugh.

"My own what? Stockings?"

"Snow-boots."

"Worn out, Mr. Rossitur! I have run them to death, poor things. Is that a slight intimation that you are afraid of the same fate for your socks ?”

"No," said Hugh, smiling in spite of himself at her manner,-"I will lend you anything I have got, Fleda."

His tone put Fleda in mind of the very doubtful pretensions of the socks in question to be comprehended under the term; she was silent a minute.

"Will you go with me, Hugh?”

"No dear, I can't;-I must get a little ahead with the wood while I can; it looks as if it would snow again; and Barby isn't provided for more than a day or two.

"And how for this fire ?"

Hugh shook his head, and rose up to go forth into the kitchen. Fleda went too, linking her arm in his and bearing affectionately upon it, a sort of tacit saying that they would sink or swim together. Hugh understood it perfectly.

"I am very sorry you have to do it, dear Hugh—Oh that wood-shed !—if it had only been made!-'

'Never mind-can't help it now--we shall get through the winter by and by.'

Can't you get uncle Rolf to help you a little?" whispered Fleda ;--" It would do him good.' "It

But Hugh only shook his head.

"What are we going to do for dinner, Barby?" said Fleda, still holding Hugh there before the fire.

"Ain't much choice," said Barby. "It would puzzle anybody to spell much more out of it than pork and ham. There's plenty o' them. I shan't starve this some time."

"But we had ham yesterday and pork the day before yesterday and ham Monday," said Fleda. "There is plenty of vegetables, thanks to you and me, Hugh," she said with a little reminding squeeze of his arm. "I could make soups nicely, if I had anything to make them of!"

"There's enough to be had for the catching," said Barby. "If I hadn't a man-mountain of work upon me, I'd start out and shoot or steal something."

"You shoot, Barby!" said Fleda laughing.

"I guess I can do 'most anything I set my hand to. If I couldn't I'd shoot myself. It won't do to kill no more o' them chickens."

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"O no,--now they are laying so finely. Well, I am going up the hill, and when I come home I'll try and make up something, Barby."

"Earl Douglass 'll go out in the woods now and then, of a day when he ha'n't no work particular to do, and fetch hum as many pigeons and woodchucks as you could shake a stick at."