ently it comes--such a tea! such fruit, such
cream, such cakes! No wonder Mollie is growing fat. And how am I to
thank you and dear Mrs. Ross? I must give it up; words will not express
my sense of your goodness. But before I finish this rigmarole I must
tell you that Mollie practises every day for an hour, and keeps up her
French, and the Roman history progresses well. I am carrying Mollie so
fast over the ground that we shall soon be dragged at Pompey's
chariot-wheels; and as she complains that she forgets what we have read,
I make her take notes and copy them neatly in a book. I know you will be
glad to hear this.'

'Humph!' was Michael's sole observation, when Audrey had finished.

'It is a very interesting letter--very droll and amusing,' remarked Mrs.
Ross, in her kindly way. 'Mrs. Blake is a clever woman; don't you think
so, Michael?'

But Michael could not be induced to hazard an opinion; indeed, his
behaviour was so unsatisfactory that Audrey threatened to keep the next
letter to herself.

But the last week was nearly at an end, and, though everyone loudly
lamented over this fact, it was observed that Mrs. Ross's countenance
grew brighter every day. She never willingly left her beautiful home,
and she always hailed her return to it with joy. Not even her Highland
home, with its heather and long festoons of stag-horn moss, could divert
her affections from her beloved Woodcote; and the young mistress of
Hillside fully echoed these sentiments.

'It has been a lovely time, and has done Percy a world of good,' she
said to her mother, as they were packing up some curiosities together;
'but I can see he is growing a little tired of idleness; and, after all,
there is no place like home.'

'I am sure your father and I feel the same; and really, Geraldine, on a
wet day these rooms are terribly small. I used to take my work upstairs;
one seemed to breathe freer than in that stuffy parlour that Audrey and
Michael think so charming.'

'So our last evening has come,' observed Audrey, in a curious tone, as
she and Michael wandered down to the little bridge they called their
trysting-place. A tiny rivulet of water trickled over the stones, and
two or three ducks were dibbling with yellow bills among the miniature
boulders. Audrey sat down on the low wall, and Michael stooped to pick
up a pebble, an action that excited frantic joy in Booty's breast.

'Ah, to be sure!' he replied, as he sent it skimming along the water,