r, perhaps, than she does me; that is, the world would think so,
but the world does not always know, and if I am satisfied, surely it
ought to be. Yours truly,
"A. LEIGHTON."

"Engaged to Lucy Harcourt? I never could have believed it. He's right
in saying that she is far more suitable for me than him." Thornton
exclaimed, dashing aside the letter and feeling conscious of a pang as
he remembered the bright, airy little beauty in whom he had once been
strongly interested, even if he did call her frivolous and ridicule
her childish ways.

She was frivolous, too much so, by far, to be a clergyman's wife, and
for a full half hour Thornton paced up and down the room, meditating
on Arthur's choice and wondering how upon earth it ever happened.

CHAPTER VIII.

HOW IT HAPPENED.

Lucy had insisted that she did not care to go to Saratoga. She
preferred remaining in Hanover, where it was cool and quiet, and where
she would not have to dress three times a day and dance every night
till twelve. She was beginning to find that there was something to
live for besides consulting one's own pleasure, and she meant to do
good the rest of her life, she said, assuming such a sober nun-like
air, that no one who saw her could fail to laugh, it was so at
variance with her entire nature.

But Lucy was in earnest; Hanover had a greater attraction for her
than all the watering-places in the world, and she meant to stay
there, feeling very grateful when Fanny threw her influence on her
side, and so turned the scale in her favor. Fanny was glad to leave
her dangerous cousin at home, especially after Dr. Bellamy decided to
join their party at Saratoga, and, as she carried great weight with
both her parents, it was finally decided to let Lucy remain at
Prospect Hill in peace, and so one morning in July she saw the family
depart to their summer gayeties without a single feeling of regret
that she was not of their number. She had too much on her hands to
spend her time in regretting anything. There was the parish school to
visit, and a class of children to hear--children who were no longer
ragged, for Lucy's money had been poured out like water, till even
Arthur had remonstrated with her and read her a long lecture on the
subject of misplaced charity. Then, there was Widow Hobbs, waiting for
the jelly Lucy had promised, and for the chapter which Lucy read to
her, sitting where she could