been taken for six or seven. She was fair-skinned, blue-eyed and
golden-haired. And her countenance, full of spirit, courage and
audacity. As she would dart her face upward toward the sun, her round,
smooth, highly polished white forehead would seem to laugh in light
between its clustering curls of burnished gold, that, together with the
little, slightly turned-up nose, and short, slightly protruded upper
lip, gave the charm of inexpressible archness to the most mischievous
countenance alive. In fact her whole form, features, expression and
gestures seemed instinct with mischief--mischief lurked in the kinked
tendrils of her bright hair; mischief looked out and laughed in the
merry, malicious blue eyes; mischief crept slyly over the bows of her
curbed and ruby lips, and mischief played at hide and seek among the
rosy dimples of her blooming cheeks.

"Now, Jacquelina," said Mrs. L'Oiseau, "you must cure yourself of these
hoydenish tricks of yours before you expose them to your uncle--remember
how whimsical and eccentric he is."

"So am I! Just as whimsical! I'll do him dirt," said the young lady.

"Good heaven! Where did you ever pick up such a phrase, and what upon
earth does doing any one 'dirt' mean?" asked the very much shocked lady.

"I mean I'll grind his nose on the ground, I'll hurry him and worry him,
and upset him, and cross him, and make him run his head against the
wall, and butt his blundering brains out. What did he turn Fair Edith
away for? Oh! I'll pay him off! I'll settle with him! Fair Edith shan't
be in his debt for her injuries very long."

From her pearly brow and pearly cheeks, "Fair Edith" was the name by
which the child had heard her cousin once called, and she had called her
thus ever since.

Mrs. L'Oiseau answered gravely.

"Your uncle gave Edith a fair choice between his own love and
protection, and the great benefits he had in store for her, and the
love of a stranger and foreigner, whom he disapproved and hated. Edith
deliberately chose the latter. And your uncle had a perfect right to act
upon her unwise decision."

"And for my part, I know he hadn't--all of my own thoughts. Oh! I'll do
him--"

"Hush! Jacquelina. You shall not use such expressions. So much comes of
my letting you have your own way, running down to the beach and watching
the boats, and hearing the vulgar talk of the fishermen."

On Saturday, at the hour specified, the carriage came to Old Field
Cottage, and conve