e, Madame Emile de Girardin
died. There was a flood of panegyrics and of tears. Monsieur Paulin
Limayrac was chief pall-bearer, and demonstrated in the columns of "La
Presse" that Madame Emile de Girardin had herself alone more genius than
Sappho, Corinne, Madame de Sevigne, Madame de Stael, and Madame George
Sand, all put together.

* * * * *

THE LITTLE COUNTRY-GIRL.

CHAPTER I.

My father's old friend, Captain Joseph, came down by the morning train,
to inquire concerning a will placed in my keeping by Farmer Hill, lately
deceased.

This is his first visit since our marriage.

He declares himself perfectly satisfied with--a certain person, and
insists on my revealing the reason, or reasons, of her choosing--a
certain person, when she might, no doubt, have done better.

And he is equally charmed with our locality,--is glad to find such a
paradise.

I like Captain Joseph. He doesn't croak. Some old men would look dismal,
and say, perhaps,--"Happiness is not for earth," or, "In prosperity
prepare for adversity." As if anybody could!

"A beautiful spot," says Captain Joseph. And truly it is a pleasant
place here, close by the sea,--a place made on purpose to live in. It is
a sort of valley, shut in on the east and on the west by high wooded
hills, which stretch far out into the sea, and so make for us a charming
little bay. There are only a few houses here: the town proper, where I
have my law-office, is a mile off.

I found this nook quite accidentally, while sketching the islands off in
the harbor, and the water, and the deep shading on the woods beyond. The
people here took me to board. That was ten years ago.

Then the family was large. There was old Mr. Lane, his wife, their five
grown-up boys, Emily, the sick one, and Miss Joey. The eldest son went
out to China, and there died. The next three, at different times,
started for California. Two died of the fever, and the third was
supposed to have been murdered in crossing the Plains.

David remained. He was a tall, well-made youth, with plenty of health
and good looks, willing to work on the farm, but devoted mainly to his
little sloop-boat. People called him odd. He was both odd and even. He
was odd in being somewhat different in his habits from other young men;
but then he had an even way of his own, which he kept. With him, the sea
and his little sloop-boat and the daily paper supplied the place of
balls, concerts, pa