st forcibly in his
mind.

"She is certainly quite handsome, notwithstanding she is a little, a
very little, cross-eyed--it is a pity!" And Leland leaned out the
window, and whistled "Auld Robin Gray." "How pathetically she warbled
the line,

But she looked in my face 'til my heart was like to break;"

and Leland threw off one slipper, and stopped to hum it over again.
"Her voice only wants a little cultivation"--off goes the other
slipper, and out goes the head into the moonlight, and in it comes
again. "Well, I must teach her to draw--her own patterns, at any rate.
Pleasant old couple; the idea of hiring _me_ for eight dollars a
month--capital!" and in a fit of laughter he threw himself upon the
bed. "What a roguish pair of eyes, after all, the little cap-maker
has!"

Again the dreams of our hero were all Arcadian, and every shepherdess
was a little cross-eyed, and warbled "Auld Robin Gray."

In the bright moonlight, which, glancing through the flickering
leaves, streams across the chamber-floor, filling it with her softened
radiance, sits Ursula. But why so pensive; is it the influence of the
hour, I wonder--has the gentle moon thus power to sadden her, or--

"Hetty, he has a very fine countenance."

There, you see her pensiveness has found a voice.

"Who, Miss Ursula?"

"Why, this young stranger. He has a fine figure, too; and his manners
are certainly quite refined."

"Yes, and what pretty pictures he makes."

"True, Hetty, very pretty; he certainly has a genius for the art." A
long silence. "What a pity he is poor."

"What's a pity, Miss Ursula?" cries Hetty, half asleep.

"O, nothing, nothing--go to sleep, Hetty."

But Ursula still sits in the moonlight, and thinks of the handsome
young artist. Her generous little heart has already smoothed his path
to eminence. Yes, she resolves if, upon acquaintance, he proves as
worthy as he appears--and does she doubt it--not she--that neither
money nor patronage shall be wanting to his success. Generous little
cap-maker! And when at length she sought her couch, young Love, under
the harmless guise of honest Benevolence, perched himself at her
pillow.

PART IV.

And now, every morning sees Leland taking his way to the farm-house;
and the villagers, good people, have made up their minds that there
must be some very pretty scenes in that neighborhood.

And so there are, very fine scenes; for, reclining under the shady
trees, the young artist may be