ion to the sleigh-ride; and I hope you will
not be offended, if I ask you not to go about with me any more. I think
you are a very good young man, and, as an acquaintance, I like you very
much.

"Respectfully yours,

"ELEANOR SHERMAN.

"P.S.--With this note you will find the things you have given me."

I took the iron tongs which stood near, picked up the thimble and
dropped it into the midst of the hot coals, then the flower, then the
verses, then the ribbon, then the smelling-bottle, and would gladly have
added myself.

My mother and I were everything to each other. We two were all that
remained of a large family. I had always confided in her; but still I
was sorry that I had opened the package there. I might have taken it to
my chamber. But then she would have known, she _must_ have known from my
manner, that something was wrong with me. I think, on the whole, I was
glad to have her know the worst. I knew that my mother worshipped me;
but she was not one of those who let their feelings be seen on common
occasions. I gave her the note, and no more was needed. She tried to
comfort me, as mothers will; but I would not be comforted. It was my
first great heart-trouble, and I was weighed down beneath it. She drew
me towards her, I leaned my head upon her shoulder, and was not ashamed
that she knew of the hot tears upon my cheeks. At last I heard her
murmuring softly,--

"Oh, what shall I do? He is all I have, and he is so miserable! How can
I bear his sorrow?"

I think it was the recollection of these words which induced me
afterwards to hide my feelings, that she might not suffer on my account.

The next day was clear and bright. The sleighing was perfect. I was
miserable. I had not slept. I could not eat. I dared not go into the
village to encounter the jokes which I was certain awaited me there.
Early in the evening, just as the moon rose, I took my stand behind a
clump of trees, half-way up a hill, where I knew the sleighs must pass.

There I stood, feeling neither cold nor weariness, waiting, watching,
listening for the sleigh-bells. At last I heard them, first faintly,
then louder and louder, until they reached the bottom of the hill.
Slowly they came up, passing, one after another, by my hiding-place.
There were ten sleighs in all. She and Harry were in the fourth. The
moon shone full in their faces, and his looked just as I had often felt;
but I had never dared to show it as Harry did. I felt sure that