inbow, but ill-conducted as a monkey; and here was a gauze shawl, so
fine that Bittra hid it in her little palm, and whispered that it was of
untold price.

"But, of course, I cannot keep all these treasures," she said; "I shall
hold them as a loan for a while; and then, under one pretext or another,
return them. It is what they indicate that I value."

"And I think, my little child," I said, "that if you had them
reduplicated until they would fill one wing of the British Museum, they
would hardly be an exponent of all that these poor people think and
feel."

"It should make me very happy," said Bittra.

And then we passed into the yard and dairies, where the same benevolent
worship had congregated fowl of strange and unheard-of breeds; and there
was a little bonham; and above all, staring around, wonder-stricken and
frightened, and with a gorgeous blue ribbon about her neck, was the
prettiest little fawn in the world, its soft brown fur lifted by the
warm wind and its eyes opened up in fear and wonder at its surroundings.
Bittra patted its head, and the pretty animal laid its wet nozzle in
her open hand. Then she felt a little shiver, and I said:--

"That bridal dress is too light. Go in and change." But she said,
looking up at me wistfully:--

"It is not the chill of cold, but of dread, that is haunting me all the
morning. I feel as if some one were walking over my grave, as the people
say."

[Illustration: "Ahem!--Reginald Ormsby, wilt thou take Mrs. Darcy--" (p.
382.)]

"Nonsense!" I cried. "You are unnerved, child; the events of the morning
have been too much for you."

Here we heard her father's voice, shouting: "Bittra! Bittra! where are
you?"

"Here, father," she said, as Ormsby came into the yard with Campion,
"showing all my treasures to Father Dan."

She linked her arm in her husband's, and Campion looked from one to the
other admiringly. And no wonder. They were a noble, handsome pair, as
they stood there, and the June sunlight streamed and swam around them.

"Go in," he said at last. "The guests expect you."

He and I walked around the farmyard, noting, observing, admiring. He
called my attention to this animal and to that, marked out all his
projected improvements, and what he would do to make this a model
country residence for his child; but I could see that he had something
else to say. At last he turned to me, and there was a soft haze in his
gleaming black eyes as he tried to steady hi