evening. It was after tea. The sun had gone down,
and the evening was beautiful. Mrs. Bell was sitting in a low
rocking-chair, on a little covered platform, near the door, which they
called the stoop. There were two seats, one on each side of the stoop,
and there was a vine climbing over it. Mrs. Bell was knitting. Mary
Bell, who was then about six years old, was playing about the yard,
watching the butterflies, and gathering flowers.

"You may stay here and play a little while," said Mary Erskine to Mary
Bell. "I am going to talk with your mother a little; but I shall be
back again pretty soon."

Mary Erskine accordingly went to the stoop where Mrs. Bell was
sitting, and took a seat upon the bench at the side of Mrs. Bell,
though rather behind than before her. There was a railing along
behind the seat, at the edge of the stoop and a large white rose-bush,
covered with roses, upon the other side.

Mrs. Bell perceived from Mary Erskine's air and manner that she
had something to say to her, so after remarking that it was a very
pleasant evening, she went on knitting, waiting for Mary Erskine to
begin.

"Mrs. Bell," said Mary.

"Well," said Mrs. Bell.

The trouble was that Mary Erskine did not know exactly _how_ to
begin.

She paused a moment longer and then making a great effort she said,

"Albert wants me to go and live with him."

"Does he?" said Mrs. Bell. "And where does he want you to go and
live?"

"He is thinking of buying a farm," said Mary Erskine.

"Where?" said Mrs. Bell.

"I believe the land is about a mile from Kater's corner."

Mrs. Bell was silent for a few minutes. She was pondering the thought
now for the first time fairly before her mind, that the little
helpless orphan child that she had taken under her care so many years
ago, had really grown to be a woman, and must soon, if not then, begin
to form her own independent plans of life. She looked at little Mary
Bell too, playing upon the grass, and wondered what she would do when
Mary Erskine was gone.

After a short pause spent in reflections like these, Mrs. Bell resumed
the conversation by saying,

"Well, Mary,--and what do you think of the plan?"

"Why--I don't know," said Mary Erskine, timidly and doubtfully.

"You are very young," said Mrs. Bell.

"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "I always was very young. I was very young
when my father died; and afterwards, when my mother died, I was very
young to be left all alone, and to go out