He introduced her to the old lady, who said something nice to her about her sister.  The young man was looking wistfully at her, troubled at heart that she treated him so coldly.

“I have got to break some news to you,” he said:  “perhaps you will consider it good news.”

She looked up quickly.

“Nothing has happened to anybody—­only some one has arrived.  Mr. Roscorla is at the inn.”

She did not flinch.  He was vexed with her that she showed no sign of fear or dislike.  On the contrary, she quickly said that she must then go down to the inn; and she bade them both good-bye in a placid and ordinary way, while he drove off with dark thoughts crowding into his imagination of what might happen down at the inn during the next few days.  He was angry with her, he scarcely knew why.

Meanwhile Wenna, apparently quite calm, went on down the road, but there was no more laughing in her voice, no more light in her face.

“Miss Wenna,” said the smaller of the two children, who could not understand this change, and who looked up with big, wondering eyes, “why does oo tremble so?”

[TO BE CONTINUED.]

SONNET.

    The curious eye may watch her lovely face,
      Whereon such rare and roseate tinctures glow,
    And cry, How fair the rose and lily show
      Mid all the glories of a maiden grace! 
    If this sweet show, this bloom and tender glance,
      Would so attract a stranger’s unskilled eyes,
    Until he sees the light of Paradise
      Dawn in the garden of that countenance—­
    I, to whom love hath given finer powers,
      See there the emblems of a flowering soul
    That hath its root in other world than ours,
      And which doth ever seek its native goal;
    Meanwhile decks life with love and grace and flowers,
      And in one beauteous garland binds the whole.

F.A.  HILLARD.

NICE.

Twenty-Two centuries ago—­eighteen hundred years before Columbus sailed in quest of the New World—­a Phocean colony from Marseilles founded this celebrated city, calling it Niche (Nice or Victory), in honor of a signal triumph obtained by their arms over their enemies, the Ligurians, or inhabitants of the northern coast of Italy.  For ages it flourished, being almost as famous with the ancients as a health-resort as it is to-day; but its evil hour came when the Goths, Lombards and Franks in A.D. 405, pouring through the defiles and gorges of the Maritime Alps, laid Nice and almost all the other cities of Italy, even beyond Rome, in ashes.  A hundred years later it was rebuilt, but its beautiful forum, its classical temples, its mosaic-paved villas and marble theatres had disappeared utterly, and the new city was but a shadow of the old.  In the tenth century the Saracens conquered Nice, and remained in quiet possession for seventy years,