EAR the large bay-window of a nobleman's mansion, more than fifty years ago, sat a young lady at work. She was bending over an embroidery frame, and the colours of her silks were blending in rich harmony, as her well-trained fingers drew them in and out with her needle. She appeared about eighteen years of age, and was dressed in the morning costume then in fashion. The short waist, the narrow skirt, and the close crisp curls in front and on the top of the head, would have rendered her appearance anything but elegant in these days. But there was something in the delicate features and noble bearing of the young lady, which required neither dress nor ornament to prove her high birth. The window stood open, and beyond the lofty terraces, B beautiful gardens, smooth lawns, and thick foliage, the blue waves of a tiny bay glittered and sparkled in the sunshine of a bright May morning. The sweet smell of flowers mingled with the breath of the sea, and the lark carolled his joyous lays over-head, while from bush and tree resounded the full melody of song. Yet to this bird-minstrelsy the young lady was not listening: something more holy demanded her attention. From the songs of His creatures she turned to the words of the Creator Himself: "These all wait upon Thee, and Thou givest them their meat in due season." The young lady was not alone; but the reader's voice, though low and distinct, had enough of the rich Devonshire brogue in its intonation to prove that she belonged to a more humble position in life than her listener. She finished the Psalm, rose from her low seat by the lady's side, and carefully replaced the Bible among a number of other books which stood in an elegant black cabinet of ebony inlaid with gold. The girl, as she stood, seemed about fifteen years of age; and not only in dress but in appearance was she a complete contrast to the young lady at the window. A short, full dress of camlet, a white apron and bib, would have been sufficient to mark the difference; but to this was added a round rosy face, large dark eyes, and black, smoothly-braided hair, cut short at the back. She was indeed a contrast to the fairhaired, delicate-looking lady, Arabella Denham. The voice, with its silvery tones and educated accent, made the contrast still greater. "Patty," she said, "did you |