ve soil, and Miss Merton has
been set by the jeweller."

I was irritated and had spoken warmly, but the bright smile did not
leave Miss Darry's face, as she answered,--

"Sandy, you have unmistakably the poetic temperament; but use your brush
on the canvas, and don't color every human being you see. I never could
comprehend why the practical affairs of life should not be ruled by
judgment and reason,--why the mental mansion should not have every
needful arrangement for comfort, though a hundred illusions may fresco
its ceilings. Every child is charming because it is a child, as every
bud is charming because it is a bud, though it may open a poppy or a
rose. I haven't a doubt but this little friend of yours will develop
some qualities of her ignorant ancestors to remove her in a few years
far from your ideal of womanhood. The rare gift of genius is as often
bestowed on the child of common parentage as on any other; but the
refinement which makes a woman a congenial companion is a mingling of
birth, education, and associations, in my opinion. It seems from your
own account, that poverty, not choice, apprenticed you to Amos Bray."

Her good-nature shamed me, and her unselfish labor for my improvement
touched me more deeply. So, though we did not agree about my profession
or friendship, I said no more.

CHAPTER VII.

As I have said, Miss Darry and I differed about Annie Bray. Yet her
words, having the weight of her greater knowledge of the world, and
really strong, though prejudiced mind, made their impression upon me.
Instead of regarding Annie with the old brotherly interest, I looked
critically now to see if any sign of rude origin betrayed itself in look
or speech. I found only the wayside bloom and sweetness quite peculiar
to herself, and many a quaint, rare fancy born of lonely rambles in
field and wood; but at fourteen, with no outward stimulus to act upon
her life, she was an undeveloped being, a child to be loved and petted,
but no friend for my growing and restless manhood.

In the evenings I worked hard, endeavoring both to improve myself
intellectually and to progress in my art. I was supplied with constant
reading from the Hillside library; but I had never been there since the
evening when I had driven Miss Darry home. The impression made upon me
at that time by Mr. Lang had not been wholly pleasant. Notwithstanding
his words at the forge, I felt as though he had in some way contended
for making me fee