born ladies,"
as poor Mrs. Myles would have called them, would have forgotten that
Rose was only a farmer's wife, if wise Rose had been herself disposed
to forget it. But great as their worldly prosperity had been, it was
nothing to the growth and continuance of that holy affection which
cheered and hallowed their happy dwelling--the chief characteristic
of which was a freedom from pretension of all kinds. Rose suffered
appearances to grow with their means, but never to precede them;
and though this is not the world's practice, the duty is not on that
account the less imperative. They were seated one evening round their
table, Edward reading, while his wife worked, when the master of the
post-office brought them a letter.

"It has lain two days, Measter Lynne," said the man, "for you never
send but once a-week; only, as I thought by the seal it must be
something grand, whoy I brought it down myself."

It was from Helen!--from the ambitious cousin--a few sad, mournful
lines, every one of which seemed dictated by a breaking heart.

She was ill and wretched, and the physician had suggested change of
air; but above all her native air. Would Rose receive her for a little
time, just to try what its effect might be?--she was sure she would,
and she would be with her immediately.

"Strange," said Edward, "how nature will assert and keep its power;
when luxury, art, skill, knowledge, fail to restore health, they tell
you of native air, trusting to the simple, pure restorative, which
is the peasant's birthright, as infallible. I wonder, Rose, how those
fine people like to be thrown back upon the nature they so outrage."

"Poor Helen!" exclaimed Rose, "how dispirited she seems--how
melancholy! I ought to feel afraid of your meeting her, I suppose,
Edward; but I do not--you have grown satisfied with your poor Rose. We
shall be able to make her very comfortable, shall we not?"--and then
she smiled at the homeliness of the phrase, and wondered what Helen
would say if she heard her.

It was not without sundry heartbeatings that Rose heard the carriage
stop, and assisted Helen to alight; nor could she conceal her
astonishment at the ravages which not past years but past emotions had
wrought on her once beautiful face.

The habit of suppressing thoughts, feelings, and emotions, had
altogether destroyed the frank expression of her exquisitely chiselled
mouth, which, when it smiled now, smiled alone; for the eyes, so
finely forme