\"bear up, brāve heart! we will be calm and strong;sure, we can master eyes, or cheek, or tongue,nor let the smallest tell-tale sign appearshe ever was, and is, and will be dear.\"

rhyming play.

it was a hot summer\"s evening. edith came into margaret\"s bedroom, thefirst time in her habit, the second ready dressed for dinner. no one wasthere at first; the next time edith found dixon laying out margaret\"sdress on the bed; but no margaret. edith remained to fidget about.

\"oh, dixon! not those horrid blue flowers to that dead gold-colouredgown. what taste! wait a minute, and i will bring you somepomegranate blossoms.\"

\"it\"s not a dead gold-colour, ma\"am. it\"s a straw-colour. and blue alwaysgoes with straw-colour.\" but edith had brought the brilliant scarletflowers before dixon had got half through her remonstrance.

\"where is miss hale?\" asked edith, as soon as she had tried the effect ofthe garniture. \"i can\"t think,\" she went on, pettishly, \"how my auntallowed her to get into such rambling habits in milton! i\"m sure i\"malways expecting to hear of her hāving met with something horribleamong all those wretched places she pokes herself into. i should neverdare to go down some of those streets without a servant. they\"re not fitfor ladies.\"

dixon was still huffed about her despised taste; so she replied, rathershortly:

\"it\"s no wonder to my mind, when i hear ladies talk such a deal aboutbeing ladies--and when they\"re such fearful, delicate, dainty ladies too-isay it\"s no wonder to me that there are no longer any saints on earth---\"

\"oh, margaret! here you are! i hāve been so wanting you. but how yourcheeks are flushed with the heat, poor child! but only think what that

tiresome henry has done; really, he exceeds brother-in-law\"s limits. justwhen my party was made up so beautifully--fitted in so precisely formr. colthurst--there has henry e, with an apology it is true, andmaking use of your name for an excuse, and asked me if he may bringthat mr. thornton of milton--your tenant, you know--who is in londonabout some law business. it will spoil my number, quite.\"

\"i don\"t mind dinner. i don\"t want any,\" said margaret, in a low voice.

\"dixon can get me a cup of tea here, and i will be in the drawing-roomby the time you e up. i shall really be glad to lie down.\"

\"no, no! that will never do. you do look wretchedly white, to be sure;but that is just the heat, and we can\"t do without you possibly. (thoseflowers a little lower, dixon. they look glorious flames, margaret, inyour black hair.) you know we planned you to talk about milton to mr.