d a little
stroll in the crisp, cool sunshine that had followed yesterday's storm.
It was very fair, there in that lovely valley in Vermont, with the tall
mountains piercing the heavens, and the silvery lakes flashing like
mirrors below.

It was past noon when they reached Portland. The usual rush followed,
but Norine, safe under the protecting wing of Mr. Gilbert, made her way
unscathed. She looked eagerly among the crowd in the long depot, and
cried out at last at sight of a familiar face.

"There, monsieur--there! Uncle Reuben is standing yonder with the blue
coat and fur cap. He is looking for me. Oh! take me to him at once,
please."

Mr. Gilbert led Miss Bourdon up to where a bluff-looking, middle-aged
countryman stood--"Down East" from top to toe.

"Uncle," cried Norine, holding out both hands, eagerly, "I have come."

And then, heedless of the crowd, of Mr. Gilbert, mademoiselle flung both
arms around Uncle Reuben's neck with very French effusion, and kissed
him, smick--smack, on both cheeks.

"Hey! bless my soul! it is you, is it?" Uncle Reuben exclaimed,
extricating himself. "It is, I swow, and growed out of all knowin'.
You're welcome, my dear, and I'm right glad to have you with us, for
your poor mother's sake. You ain't a look of her, though--no, not
one--Gustave Bourdon all over. And how did you manage on your journey? I
tell you, we was all considerable uneasy about you."

He looked at her tall companion as he ceased, half suspiciously, half
inquiringly, and Miss Bourdon hastened to introduce them.

"This gentleman is Mr. Gilbert, uncle. He has been very kind to me all
the way. I don't know what I should have done but for him. He has taken
care of me ever since we left Montreal."

"Thanky, sir--much obliged to you for looking after this little girl.
Come along and spend the day with us at my place, Kent Farm."

"Thanks, very much," the lawyer answered; "I regret more than I can say
that circumstances render that pleasure impossible. I must be in New
York to-morrow, but the very next time I am in Portland I shall
certainly avail myself of your kind invitation. Miss Bourdon, until that
time comes, good-by."

He shook hands with her, and saw her led away by her uncle, with a
feeling of strange, yearning regret. A two-seated country sleigh stood
near. Uncle Reuben helped her in, took his seat beside her, tucked her
up, said "Ga'lang," and they were off. Once she looked back, to smile,
to wave her