he times you have been here."

Tom proceeded to recount some of his visits to the Hawk's Lynch,
in which we have accompanied him. Then they talked on about
Katie, and East, and the Englebourn people, past and present, old
Betty, and Harry and his wife in New Zealand, and David patching
coats and tending bees, and executing the Queen's justice to the
best of his ability in the village at their feet.

"Poor David, I must get over somehow to see him before we leave
home. He feels your uncle's death, and the other changes in the
parish, more than anyone."

"I am so sorry the living was sold," said Mary; "Katie and her
husband would have made Englebourn into a little paradise."

"It could not be helped, dear. I can't say I'm sorry. There would
not have been work enough for him. He is better where he is, in a
great town-parish."

"But Katie did love the place so, and was so used to it; she had
become quite a little queen there before her marriage. See what
we women have to give up for you," she said, playfully, turning
to him. But a shadow passed over his face, and he looked away
without answering.

"What makes you so sorrowful, dear? What are you thinking of?"

"Oh, nothing."

"That isn't true. Now, tell me what it is. You have no right, you
know, to keep anything from me."

"I can't bear to think that you have had to sell Gipsy. You have
never been without a riding horse till now. You will miss your
riding dreadfully, I am sure, dear."

"I shall do very well without riding. I am so proud of learning
my lesson from you. You will see what a poor man's wife I shall
make. I have been getting mamma to let me do the house-keeping,
and know how a joint should look, and all sorts of useful things.
And I have made my own house-linen. I shall soon get to hate all
luxuries as much as you do."

"Now, Mary, you mustn't run into extremes. I never said you ought
to hate all luxuries, but that almost everybody one knows is a
slave to them."

"Well, and I hate anything that wants to make a slave of me."

"You are a dear little free woman. But now we are on this subject
again, Mary, I really want to speak to you about keeping a lady's
maid. We can quite afford it, and you ought to have one."

"I shall do nothing of the sort."

"Not to oblige me, Mary?"

"No, not even to oblige you. There is something to be said for
dear Gypsy. But, take a maid again! to do nothing but torment me,
and pretend to take care of my clothes