"I do hope you will not find your generous kindness misplaced," said Mrs. Waters in a doubtful tone; "the world is full of ingratitude and deception." "Never fear, Lyddy," the Doctor replied with an earnestness which showed the depth and sincerity of his heart, "we have got to learn to do our duty whether we meet with good or evil in return. It is a poor kind of charity that never trusts. For my part, I'd rather be deceived in fifty cases than to lose the chance of doing good to one poor soul. But as for Esther Cram and our little Nell, I haven't the slightest fear but what we shall receive far more than we give." "Well, all I have to say," replied Mrs. Waters, smiling, "is, that if you do succeed in making any thing out of the wild child, you will be entitled to the gratitude of the whole village. I do not believe any one else would have undertaken such a hopeless task." "We shall succeed, sister," exclaimed Mrs. Jepson. "I can already see signs of promise that fill me with hope and confidence." "That we shall," confidently added the Doctor, "for I never knew my wife undertake any thing she didn't accomplish. She has a strange knack of knowing just the right thing to do, and a heart that will never stop short of doing her whole duty." "And a husband," rejoined Mrs. Jepson affection. ately, "whose example often causes her to blush for her own failings while vainly striving to emulate his whole-hearted benevolence and goodness." 1 . CHAPTER XV. "A NATIVE grace Sat fair-proportioned on her polished limbs, SIX years rolled on. beauty their noiseless flight had scarce been known save for the costly gifts they treasured there. On Cicely Everson's queenly brow they had written with softly radiant pen the two-fold bliss of wife and mother; but no trace of care or sorrow had marked their swift course through her luxurious home. A star of the first magnitude was she in the bright galaxy of highborn beauties which graced her circle. Beautiful, gifted, beloved, blessed in all that makes life dear to woman, why should the youthful Lady Willoughby note the rolling years or feel the touch of Time's wings as it flew lightly past! Within the halls of wealth and But in other homes, where with toil and struggle each upward step was gained, where slowly life un vailed its mysteries, these years have left their daily record as page by page it grew. Up on a high rock-so high, her form revealed itself against the sky-sat one on whom six summer suns had wrought a wondrous change. Her raven hair, laid smoothly back, disclosed a lofty brow, wherein thought, deep, searching thought, might find a fit abode. She was not beautiful; yet in the native ease and grace with which she poised herself upon her aerial throne, the dark, flashing eye which seemed to gather into its depths all the glorious beauties of that mountain scene, one could read an inborn soul of loveliness and purity. Nell's six years had not been spent in vain. Her quick mind had far outstripped the simple limits of a village school, and on the morrow, with longing steps and hopes elate, she would seek a higher fount of knowledge. This it was which had led her to her old, familiar seat on the mountain-top to gaze once more into that world of which she had had but one strange glimpse, and whither she was now going to mingle in its scenes. The deeper shade of thoughtfulness, not unmixed with eager anticipation, which rested on her face, betrayed how busily fancy was weaving its imaginary web within. Allured by its bright gossamer hues, Nell's thoughts forsook the world around her, and reveled in the elysian fields with which youth ever surrounds the future. The future! Ah! little heeds that dreaming maiden how quickly the chasm is bridged |