GOETHE.

CHAPTER XX.

"I WAS THE MORE DECEIVED."

Milly Harrington had passed two months at Birchmead, and her
grandmother's neighbors were beginning to speculate on the probabilities
of her staying over the summer.

"Poor soul; it's lonely for her," Mrs. Chigwin said to her friend,
Elizabeth. "I do hope that Mr. Beadon, or whatever her husband's name
is, will come back before very long. She must be fretting for him, and
fretting's so bad for her."

"You think there is a husband to come, do you?" asked Mrs. Bundlecombe,
mysteriously.

"Why not, Bessy? She says she's married, and she wears a wedding-ring;
and her clothes is beautiful."

"I'd like to see her marriage lines," said Mrs. Bundlecombe. "But,
there! maybe I'm hard on her, poor thing, which I ought not to be,
seeing that I know what trouble is, and how strangely marriages do turn
out sometimes. But if there is a husband in the case, it's shameful the
way he neglects her, never coming to see her, and going abroad on
business, as she says, while she stays with her grandmother!"

"She pays Mrs. Harrington," remarked Mrs. Chigwin, reflectively, "and
she always seems to have plenty of money; but she do look sad and
mournful now and then, and money's not everything to those that want a
little love."

As she concluded her moral observation, she started up, for a shadow
darkened the open doorway: and on looking up, she saw that Milly herself
was standing just outside. The girl's beautiful face was pale and
agitated; and there were tears in her eyes. The old woman noticed that
she was growing haggard, and that there were black lines beneath her
eyes; they exchanged significant looks, and then asked her to step in
and sit down.

"You run about too much and fatigue yourself," said Mrs. Chigwin. "Now
you sit there and look at my flowers, how still they keep; they wouldn't
be half so fine if I was always transplanting them. You want a good,
quiet home for yourself: not to be moving about and staying with
friends, however fond of you they may be."

Milly had sunk into the chair offered to her, with a look of extreme
exhaustion and fatigue, but at Mrs. Chigwin's words she sat up, and her
eyes began to grow bright again.

"I think so myself, Mrs. Chigwin. I shall be glad to get back to my own
nice quiet home again. As for looking tired, it is only because I have
been packing up my things and getting ready to go. Mr. Beadon has
written to me to joi