an answer; the sound of a footstep in the hall made her bring the conversation to a sudden end, and before the astounded girl could realize what could be the meaning of it all, she was sent away with a loving kiss, that seemed like one of congratulation.

That was all, my dear. You won't mind my just hinting it to you, will you? Poor Herbert will be so anxious."

And then Clara was taken down-stairs, and as she mechanically turned towards her refuge-the schoolroom-was invited into the drawing-room,-"just for a minute, my dear," and found herself alone with Herbert, who got up lazily from his comfortable arm-chair, and greeted her with a comical look of merriment and awkwardness. It was not often that Herbert Winton was at a loss; on this interesting occasion he felt almost as much afraid of his first sentence as Clara herself would have been, if she had not been too entirely bewildered to be conscious of anything.

* Well, Clara,” he began; "I say, has my mother been talking to you about anything?"

"Yes," said Clara; "only I don't think I quite knew what she meant."

Didn't you? She couldn't have explained it properly then. She meant-you know-that I should like you to have me, if you would. I should indeed, awfully."

Herbert was warming by degrees.

"I've always been very fond of you.”

“Have you?" said the girl, with a new light over her quiet, impassive face, at the simple words that evidently meant so much. "Of course I have," continued Herbert, with sufficient amount of truth in the letter of his declaration to spare his conscientious scruples-" of course I have; and, Clara, I should like very much for you to have me, if you think you would ever like me well enough."

Janie, in describing from imagination this rather original proposal, declared that Clara must have received the offer with a very meek “Thank you;" and she was so far correct in her fancy portrait that the only distinct feeling of Clara's astonished mind was an overwhelming gratitude.

"Then it's all settled comfortably," said Herbert, more at his ease, "isn't it? And you will like me after a bit, Clara?"

"Like you after a bit!" She repeated his words in a childlike simplicity. "I did always. And when I used to be so shy with you, and so frightened, I think it must have been because I liked you so much."

It was an original way of "love-making," but it contented "That's right; what a good little thing you are!" Clara. She felt as if she hardly understood her happiness. The decisive interview soon came to an end; Mrs. Winton's radiant face appeared, with a laughing apology for the interruption. "But I couldn't help coming, my dears, just to convince myself

"Right enough, mother," said Herbert, with a look of amusement at his mother's ecstasies in her success.

"My dear child, I am so very happy about it. And now," continued Mrs. Winton, when her lengthy and very genuine embraces were over-" now, my love, you must come and see

your uncle."

Clara drew back with all her old shyness at the presumptuous idea of penetrating into the forbidden ground of Mr. Winton's own private sitting-room. After hearing that Herbert cared for her, nothing could be very surprising, Clara thought; yet even in her present condition of intense amazement she did feel astonished when Mr. Winton complacently laid aside his papers and books, and actually came forward to meet her, with a congratulatory "Very glad indeed to hear of it, my dear," that she knew to be thoroughly honest. And she was happier and more

grateful than ever.

Once more in the hall, Clara looked appealingly at the school

room door.

"Lessons! ha! ha!" laughed Herbert; " not a bit of it, Clara. Here, we'll get that gipsy out and tell her the news.-Janie,

come here."

Catching the young lady in his favourite fashion by the hair, he brought her to Clara.

"I'm going to be married, you gipsy!

glad to hear it."

For

Go and tell her you're

once in her life Miss Janie was taken by surprise. "You're not," she said, twisting her head round as well as his grasp of her "mane" would let her, to look up into his face. "You're trying to humbug me."

"Tell her you're glad! delighted! proud! This very moment!" was the answer that did not remove her doubts.

"Yes, indeed, Janie, it's all quite true," said Mrs. Winton's delighted voice. "Our dear Clara is going to be your real sister. How you will like that!"

There was no mistaking her mother's ecstasy, and Janie stood

silent, wille Herbert lan hed in very unsentimental fashion at the sight of the "Little ripsy" staring from one to the other, as fact quite certain whether she might not be dreaming.

"You and Clara!" was the extent of her bewildered congratulation; and the large amount of astonishment and incredulity in the short remark made Clara uncomfortably sfrld that she had been committing some unheard-of error; and she retumed Janie's kiss-suggested by Mrs. Winton, and enforced by Herbert-with a burning face.

"There get away to your lessons, gipsy," said Herbert, wisely sending her into the schoolroom with a final pull at her hair, before she had time or presence of mind to express her feelings more accurately. And with a strange feeling that she was taking an improper amount of recreation-time, Clara found herself appropriated by Herbert and Mrs. Winton "jointly ;" and if Mrs. Winton was by far the most demonstrative, Herbert's real good nature and not too warn expressions of affection were quite enough to make the long morning pass, to the simple girl, like a happy dream.

The happiness was too great to be spoiled even by the great drawback of Willie's behaviour, or the announcement of the important intelligence.

Clara where are you?" said his peremptory voice, as he put his head into the dining-room on his return from the rectory, in great disgust at seeing the lunch in progress. “Lunch and I wanted you up-stairs. Bother lunch! I've got a new idea.”

"So have other people," said Janie, in her pertest voice; "a figure of Hymen this time. That's what you've got to make now."

Her satirical nods made Willie look from Herbert to Clara. "What in the world do you mean?" he muttered, crossly. Janie's teasing was a great deal too much for poor Willie's temper.

Mrs. Winton was ready with her delighted explanation.

"Ah, my dear! such good news for you! Herbert and dear Clara! what do you think of that?”

Whatever he might have thought, Willie vouchsafed no answer in words.

Shutting the dining-room door behind him with a louder bang than usual, he stalked up-stairs and appeared no more, the various pathetic messages sent after him with respect to the forgotten meal being replied to, through the locked door, by

no more comprehensible sounds than noises explained by Janie as "chisels and logs flying about the room."

better go up to him," was instantly rejected by Mrs. Winton, in Clara's meek suggestion after lunch, that "perhaps she had favour of an expedition skilfully contrived by her as just calculated to throw the lovers together in a pleasant, easy kind of way, without involving too great an amount of devotion.

"Poor dear Clara would not understand it, she is such a child!" thought the anxious mother, still in some small doubt of Herbert's constancy, and not willing to expose it to the test of too long a tête-à-tête with any one so unaccustomed to "such

things," she was

thinking of some of the young lieutenant's

past flirtations,-as the bride elect was likely to prove herself. So the afternoon passed, to Clara, like some unaccustomed and wonderful holiday; and the long drive in the spring softness was only made a little less enjoyable by the strong feeling that everybody must know of the extraordinary event that had so changed her life, and must wonder at anything so childish and insignificant being Herbert's choice.

Certainly, it was not Mrs. Winton's fault if everybody within reach did not know of the new engagement. And Clara shrank back into a corner of the carriage in one of her worst fits of shyness at the sight of Mr. and Mrs. Watham, and the determined way in which the horses were pulled up.

"What will Mrs. Watham say?" thought the poor child; and Mrs. Watham's comment on the intelligence was not exactly calculated to put her at her ease.

"Engaged! I am glad your young people have been so complaisant," remarked the rector's wife; and Clara felt that she had been doing something not quite right, and that Mrs. Watham

was not pleased.

The

congratulation to Clara herself was palpably a pitying. one, which if anything could have added to her astonishment Would have astounded her considerably. Even the rector's good wishes, kind as they were, gave her a sort of confused idea that he was disappointed at something; and once more poor Clara realized that she must have been excessively presumptuous in venturing to think of ever being Herbert Winton's wife.. What a wonderful idea it seemed! wonderful and happy enough to swallow up any amount of small drawbacks, and to make her answer Herbert's good-natured question, "Had a jolly drive, Clara?" with a simple confession that came from her very heart.

"I couldn't help liking it, because I am so happy."

Not till the evening could she find a spare half-hour for the pleasure that, through all the delightful excitement of the day she had been looking forward to. It was quite dusk, and the schoolroom was in the dim glow of the pleasant firelight, when she took possession of her favourite seat at Miss Griffiths's feet, to have one of the quiet talks that she seemed to want even more than usual.

“It seems such a long, long time since I went away, since aunt Mary called me out this morning," she said, colouring at the thought of all that had happened since," and I have been wanting to come back, only Herbert wouldn't let me. I wanted to tell you all about it. I knew you would be so glad. And I thought I should care so much for you to tell me you liked it." Miss Griffiths kissed the shy face that was looking up anxiously for the expected good wishes.

“My dear child! indeed I do hope that you will be very happy; I hope it very earnestly, Clara."

There could be no doubt in the warmth of this congratulation, and Clara was abundantly satisfied, even though there might have been a little tone of pity in the heartfelt words; and she went on talking in her usual simple style, as she said she could talk to Miss Griffiths easier than she could to any one else; and she began to discuss her astonishing good fortune in the childish way that would have excited Janie's ridicule, as "fit for a baby."

"Isn't it strange? I feel as if I could hardly believe it all. And to think that Herbert cared for me all this long time! He said he did, really he did!" said the girl, lifting up her blushing features with a look almost of pride. "Isn't it good of him?"

Looking down on the honest open face, brightened now with the new light that had come so suddenly into her childish life, the governess could not help almost regretting the extent of the girl's utter unworldliness. It was the first time that she had ever wished it less; but now she did wish for her some more acute insight into motives that might possibly be worldly, and some more extensive experience of life, before that implicit trust had been given once for all, as she knew well it would be. Clara was not one to change.

"And it's not only Herbert himself," went on the girl, "but all the others; not Willie, but Mr. Winton and aunt Mary. They were so kind; they seemed as if they were quite pleased."