not in
England, and one who settles there will often have occasion to hear
gibes and sneers on the land from which she came--"

"Good God, Mr. Effingham, you do not think I shall take my wife into
society where--"

"Bear with a proser's doubts, Templemore. You will do all that is
well-intentioned and proper, I dare say, in the usual acceptation of
the words; but I wish you to do more; that which is wise. Grace has
now a sincere reverence and respect for England, feelings that in
many particulars are sustained by the facts, and will be permanent;
but, in some things, observation, as it usually happens with the
young and sanguine, will expose the mistakes into which she has been
led by enthusiasm and the imagination. As she knows other countries
better, she will come to regard her own with more favourable and
discriminating eyes, losing her sensitiveness on account of
peculiarities she now esteems, and taking new views of things.
Perhaps you will think me selfish, but I shall add, also, that if you
wish to cure your wife of any homesickness, the surest mode will be
to bring her back to her native land."

"Nay, my dear sir," said Sir George, laughing, "this is very much
like acknowledging its blemishes."

"I am aware it has that appearance, and yet the fact is otherwise.
The cure is as certain with the Englishman as with the American; and
with the German as with either. It depends on a general law which
causes us all to over-estimate by-gone pleasures and distant scenes,
and to undervalue those of the present moment. You know I have always
maintained there is no real philosopher short of fifty, nor any taste
worth possessing that is a dozen years old."

Here Mr. Effingham rang the bell, and desired Pierre to request Miss
Van Cortlandt to join him in the library. Grace entered blushing and
shy, but with a countenance beaming with inward peace. Her uncle
regarded her a moment intently, and a tear glistened in his eye,
again, as he tenderly kissed her burning cheek.

"God bless you, love," he said--"'tis a fearful change for your sex,
and yet you all enter into it radiant with hope, and noble in your
confidence. Take her, Templemore," giving her hand to the baronet,
"and deal kindly by her. You will not desert us entirely I trust I
shall see you both once more in the Wigwam before I die."

"Uncle--uncle--" burst from Grace, as, drowned in tears, she threw
herself into Mr. Effingham's arms; "I am an ungrateful girl, t