in the world, and have
never known people, _good people_, to be left without some friend; a
relation, a benefactor, a _something_. God knows our wants--that it
is not good for man or woman to be alone; and he always sends us a
helpmate, a leaning place, a _somewhat_." Upon this sure ground of
experience, did Margaret build her trust in Providence.

* * * * *

CHAPTER II.

Rosamund had just made an end of her story, (as I was about to
relate,) and was listening to the application of the moral, (which
said application she was old enough to have made herself, but her
grandmother still continued to treat her, in many respects, as a
child, and Rosamund was in no haste to lay claim to the title of
womanhood,) when a young gentleman made his appearance and
interrupted them.

It was young Allan Clare, who had brought a present of peaches, and
some roses for Rosamund.

He laid his little basket down on a seat of the arbor; and in a
respectful tone of voice, as though he were addressing a parent,
inquired of Margaret "how she did."

The old lady seemed pleased with his attentions--answered his
inquiries by saying, that "her cough was less troublesome a-nights,
but she had not yet got rid of it, and probably she never might; but
she did not like to tease young people with an account of her
infirmities."

A few kind words passed on either side, when young Clare, glancing a
tender look at the girl, who had all this time been silent, took
leave of them with saying, "I shall bring _Elinor_ to see you in the
evening."

When he was gone, the old lady began to prattle.

"That is a sweet-dispositioned youth, and I _do_ love him dearly, I
must say it--there is such a modesty in all he says or does--he
should not come here so often, to be sure, but I don't know how to
help it; there is so much goodness in him, I can't find it in my
heart to forbid him. But, Rosamund, girl, I must tell you beforehand;
when you grow older, Mr. Clare must be no companion for _you_: while
you were both so young it was all very well--but the time is coming,
when folks will think harm of it, if a rich young gentleman, like Mr.
Clare, comes so often to our poor cottage.--Dost hear, girl? Why
don't you answer? Come, I did not mean to say anything to hurt
you--speak to me, Rosamund--nay, I must not have you be sullen--I
don't love people that are sullen."

And in this manner was this poor soul running on, unheard a