ort of
life is not merely to be cradled in luxury and to fare sumptuously
every day. The purple and fine linen are good enough in their way, and
the myrrh and the aloes and the cassia, but what does the wise man
say--"Rejoice, oh, young man, in thy youth; and let thy heart cheer
thee in the days of thy youth, and walk in the ways of thine heart,
and in the sight of thine eyes: but know thou, that for all these
things God will bring thee into judgment ... for childhood and youth
are vanity."

Erle knew that a new interest had lately come into his life; that a
certain shabby room, that was yet more homelike to him than any room
in Belgrave House, was always before his eyes: that a girl in a brown
dress, with sweet, wistful eyes, was never absent from his memory.

Neither Fern nor he owned the truth to themselves; they were ignorant
as yet that they were commencing the first chapter of their life-idyl.
Fern had a vague sense that the room was brighter when Erle was there
looking at her with those kindly glances. She never owned to herself
that he was her prince, and that she had found favor in his eyes. She
was far too humble for that; but she knew the days were somehow
glorified and transfigured when she had seen him, and Erle knew that
no face was so lovely to him as this girl's face, no voice half so
sweet in his ears, and yet people were beginning to connect his name
with Miss Selby, Lady Maltravers' beautiful niece.

He was thinking of Miss Selby now as he looked across at Fern. She had
taken up her work again, and Percy had thrown himself into the
rocking-chair beside her with a discontented expression on his face.
He was telling himself that Miss Selby was handsome, of course
strikingly handsome; but somehow she lacked this girl's sweet
graciousness. Just then Fern raised her eyes, and a quick, sensitive
color came into her face as she encountered his fixed glance.

"Ah, do you know, Miss Trafford," he said quickly, to put her at her
ease, "I have promised to spend Christmas with my cousin, Sir Hugh
Redmond. I am rather anxious to see his wife. Report says she is a
very pretty girl."

"I did not know Sir Hugh Redmond was your cousin," returned Fern,
without raising her eyes from her work.

"Yes, on my mother's side, but I have not been to Redmond Hall for an
age. Old Hugh had rather a disappointment last year; he was engaged to
another lady, and she jilted him--at least that is the popular edition
of the sto