gh he had always intended to lay by, the time for beginning to
do so had never yet come. Either some improvement to house or grounds
was wanted, or a trip to the baths--rendered necessary by his wife's
delicate health--consumed the overplus income. Reflections of this
nature were occupying him just now, as he came galloping up the great
chestnut avenue. The cloud on his brow was, however, but a little one,
and it soon vanished in sunshine when he saw the flutter of feminine
garments, and found that his wife and daughter were coming to meet him.
He leaped off his horse, kissed his favorite child on the brow, and
cheerfully remarked to his wife, "We have capital weather for the
harvest; the bailiff vows we never have had such a crop."

"You are a fortunate man, Oscar," said the baroness, tenderly.

"Yes, ever since I brought you here, seventeen years ago," replied he,
with a politeness that came from the heart.

"There are indeed seventeen years since then," cried his wife, "and they
have flown by like a summer day. We have been very happy, Oscar," said
she, bending over his arm, and looking gratefully in his face.

"Been happy!" cried the baron; "why, so we still are, and I see not why
we should not continue so."

"Hush!" implored she. "I often feel that so much sunshine can not last
forever. I desire, as it were, to fast and do penance, thus to
propitiate the envy of fortune."

"Come, come," was the good-humored reply; "fortune has given us a few
rubs already: we have had our clouds, only this little hand has always
conjured them away. Why, have you not had plague enough with the
servants, the pranks of the children, and sometimes with your tyrant
too, that you should be wishing for more?"

"You dear tyrant!" cried the wife, "I owe all my happiness to you; and,
after seventeen years, I am as proud as ever of my husband and my home.
When you brought me here, a poor maid of honor, with nothing but my
trinket-box, and that a gift, I first learned the blessedness of being
mistress in my own house, and obeying no other will than that of a
beloved husband."

"And yet you gave up much for me," returned the baron; "I have had many
a fear lest our country life should seem petty and dull to you, a
favorite at court."

"There I obeyed, here I rule," said the baroness, laughing. "There I had
nothing besides my fine dresses that I could call my own; here, every
thing around is mine. You belong to me (she wound her arms aro