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"Well, I never met such a blab! I believe you'd peach on your grandmother," says her brother, with supreme contempt. "I didn't do 'em a bit of harm, Rodney I give you my word." "A scheme," he had said; and then in a moment the right words flash across her brain. "A brilliant chance, a splendid scheme." What words for an honest man to use! Could he be honest? Was there any flaw, any damning clause anywhere in all this careful plot, so cleverly constructed to bring ruin upon the heads of these people who have crept into her tender heart? Any demonstration on her part just now may make a scene, and scenes are ever abhorrent. And might she not yet further widen the breach between mother and son by an ill-timed show of affection for the latter?.

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"Look at him, under that fern there!" exclaims Mona, in her clear treble, that has always something sweet and plaintive in it. "On your right—no! not on your left. Sure you know your right, don't you?" with a full, but unconscious, touch of scorn. "Hurry! hurry! or he will be gone again. Was there ever such a hateful bird! With his good food in the yard, and his warm house, and his mother crying for him! Ah! there you have him! No!—yes! no! He is gone again!" "I didn't listen," says Nolly, indignantly. "What do you take me for? I crammed my fingers into my ears, and shut my eyes tight, and wished with all my heart I had never been born. If you wish very hard for anything, they say you will get it. So I thought if I threw my whole soul into that wish just then I might get it, and find presently I never had been born. So I threw in my whole soul; but it didn't come off. I was as lively as possible after ten minutes' hard wishing. Then I opened my eyes again and looked,—simply to see if I oughtn't to look,—and there they were still; and he had his arm round her, and her head was on his shoulder, and——" "Mona, it is—it must be!" says Geoffrey, taking her hand; and so they both stand, almost breathless, on the high bank, listening intently. "This spot always brings to my mind the thoughts of other people," says Mona, softly. "I am very fond of poetry: are you?".