y of a summer's day. Leonard wakened up then, and remembered how
far away she really was--far more distant and inaccessible than the
beautiful blue sky to which she had betaken herself in his dream--and
cried himself to sleep again.

In spite of her absence from her child, which made one great and
abiding sorrow, Ruth enjoyed her seaside visit exceedingly. In the
first place, there was the delight of seeing Elizabeth's daily and
almost hourly improvement. Then, at the doctor's express orders,
there were so few lessons to be done, that there was time for the
long exploring rambles, which all three delighted in. And when the
rain came and the storms blew, the house, with its wild sea-views,
was equally delightful.

It was a large house, built on the summit of a rock, which nearly
overhung the shore below; there were, to be sure, a series of zigzag
tacking paths down the face of this rock, but from the house they
could not be seen. Old or delicate people would have considered the
situation bleak and exposed; indeed, the present proprietor wanted to
dispose of it on this very account; but by its present inhabitants,
this exposure and bleakness were called by other names, and
considered as charms. From every part of the rooms they saw the grey
storms gather on the sea-horizon, and put themselves in marching
array; and soon the march became a sweep, and the great dome of the
heavens was covered with the lurid clouds, between which and the
vivid green earth below there seemed to come a purple atmosphere,
making the very threatening beautiful; and by-and-by the house was
wrapped in sheets of rain shutting out sky, and sea, and inland view;
till, of a sudden, the storm was gone by, and the heavy rain-drops
glistened in the sun as they hung on leaf and grass, and the "little
birds sang east, and the little birds sang west," and there was a
pleasant sound of running waters all abroad.

"Oh! if papa would but buy this house!" exclaimed Elizabeth, after
one such storm, which she had watched silently from the very
beginning of the "little cloud no bigger than a man's hand."

"Mamma would never like it, I am afraid," said Mary. "She would call
our delicious gushes of air, draughts, and think we should catch
cold."

"Jemima would be on our side. But how long Mrs Denbigh is! I hope she
was near enough the post-office when the rain came on!"

Ruth had gone to "the shop" in the little village, about half-a-mile
distant, where all