scattered carelessly over his brow. He seemed eager and expectant,
and as they approached the gate they heard him say, "Simon, you'd better
go to the swing for little Jennie; perhaps she's fallen and got a hurt."

"Here she is, sir," said the butler, and the old gentle man dropped his
hat and cane and opened his arms to the little girl, who sprang into
them and nestled there as if it were her happiest resting-place. There
was something so child-like in the old man's tenderness toward her, that
she returned it as if he had been one of her youthful playmates. The
wandering of his intellect had robbed him of that dignity and
superiority which the young stand so much in awe of, and although the
children respected him, they felt that their amusements were suited to
his capacity--therefore they crowded around the seat in the garden, and
every day Jennie would sit beside him and read or sew, while he wound
her curls over his thin fingers, or the three would play beneath the old
trees, while he would gaze at them as contentedly as if it were the
chief end of his existence.

It was sad to think of separating them, but Jennie must return to her
school, and the poor old man be left to his weariness and vacancy. On
the day of the child's departure, he looked vainly for her appearance
until the time of her usual coming was passed, and then, with a low moan
and a pitiful face, he sank back upon the bench. Old Simon tried to
arouse and interest him, but he only shook his head, and looked about
him with the old air of melancholy, and murmured, "Little Jennie--dear
little Jennie."

CHAPTER XVI.

"Simon," said Mrs. Halberg, as they were alighting from their carriage
at the garden gate a few weeks after, "how has the old gentleman been
during our absence? Does he seem any thing like his former self?"

"Oh! he's very bad, very bad, ma'am, since the young lady that was
visiting Miss Rosalie left. He took wonderfully to her, and seemed as
happy as could be while she was here. I thought, perhaps, 'twas the
name, but the likeness was amazin'!"

The lady did not hear the latter remark, but she merely said, "What was
the name, Simon!" scarcely heeding his reply, as she went up the avenue
to the house, stopping one moment to say "How d'ye do" to the old man.

"Oh! 'tis so pleasant to be home again!" said Carrie, the youngest
daughter, and springing lightly from the carriage, she ran up to the old
gentleman, and, throwing her arms a