ou will not find it very difficult to obey his commands in the
present instance, which are, that you shall be ready at noon to-morrow
to accompany him to the city, where you will find Mamma and your Anna,
waiting to receive you with open arms."

"What is the matter, Lilian? Does your letter bring you bad news?" asked
Mrs. Grahame, as she saw the dejected countenance with which Lilian sat
gazing on these few lines.

Michael said nothing, but, as Lilian looked up to answer Mrs. Grahame,
she saw that his eyes were fixed upon her, and the blood rushed to her
temples, while she said, "It is only a note from Anna Trevanion, to say
that her father is coming for me to-day at noon,--and--and--" Lilian
could go no farther--her voice faltered, and she burst into tears.
Michael Grahame started from his chair, but a movement of his father's
arm prevented his approaching Lilian, and unable to endure the scene, he
rushed from the room, while his mother, folding the weeping girl in her
arms, exclaimed, "Don't cry, Lilian, Mr. Trevanion will not certainly
make you go with him, if you do not wish it."

"Hush, hush, good wife," said the kind but firm voice of Mr. Grahame;
"Lilian must not be so ungracious to such friends as Mr. and Mrs.
Trevanion, as to refuse to go to them when they wish her. Go, my dear
child," he continued, laying his hand on her bent head; "and remember
that no day will be so happy for us as that in which you come back--if
indeed," he added, more gayly, "you can come back to such an humble
home, after living among great folks."

There was another voice for which Lilian listened, but she listened in
vain. Her first feeling on perceiving that Michael Grahame had left the
room while she lay weeping in his mother's arms was very bitter, but
Mrs. Grahame soothed her by saying, "Michael couldn't bear to see you
crying, dear, so when his father wouldn't let him speak to you, he
jumped up and ran off. Poor Michael! sadly enough he'll miss you."

In about an hour, Michael again sought Lilian, bringing with him three
bouquets of hot-house flowers. Two of these had been arranged by his
father for Mrs. and Miss Trevanion, and the other was of flowers which
he had himself selected for Lilian. She stood beside him while he first
wrapped the stems of the flowers in a wet sponge, and then put them into
a box, to defend them from the cold. This was done, and the box handed
to Lilian without a word. As she took it, she asked in a l