sket, and Nelly also went in, but only to put on another hat, and
see if it were straight, in a minute spent before the old mirror, and
then she hurried down the long elm-shaded street to buy a pound of
citron for the cake. She left it on the kitchen-table when she came
back, and nobody ever said any thing about it; only there were two
delicious pound-cakes--a heart and a round--on a little blue china
plate beside Nelly's plate at tea.

After tea Nelly and Miss Dane sat in the front-doorway,--the elder
woman in a high-backed arm-chair, and the younger on the doorstep. The
tree-toads and crickets were tuning up heartily, the stars showed a
little through the trees, and the elms looked heavy and black against
the sky. The fragrance of the white lilies in the garden blew through
the hall. Miss Horatia was tapping the ends of her fingers together.
Probably she was not thinking of any thing in particular. She had had
a very peaceful day, with the exception of the currants; and they had,
after all, gone to the parsonage some time before noon. Beside this,
the minister had sent word that the delay made no trouble; for his
wife had unexpectedly gone to Downton to pass the day and night. Miss
Horatia had received the business-letter for which she had been
looking for several days; so there was nothing to regret deeply for
that day, and there seemed to be nothing for one to dread on the
morrow.

"Cousin Horatia," asked Nelly, "are you sure you like having me here?
Are you sure I don't trouble you?"

"Of course not," said Miss Dane, without a bit of sentiment in her
tone: "I find it very pleasant having young company, though I am used
to being alone; and I don't mind it so much as I suppose you would."

"I should mind it very much," said the girl softly.

"You would get used to it, as I have," said Miss Dane. "Yes, dear, I
like having you here better and better. I hate to think of your going
away." And she smoothed Nelly's hair as if she thought she might have
spoken coldly at first, and wished to make up for it. This rare caress
was not without its effect.

"I don't miss father and Dick so very much," owned Nelly frankly,
"because I have grown used to their coming and going; but sometimes I
miss people--Cousin Horatia, did I ever say any thing to you about
George Forest?"

"I think I remember the name," answered Miss Dane.

"He is in the navy, and he has gone a long voyage, and--I think every
thing of him. I missed him