“You are right. You rejected me because you did not feel secure of my principles. The next day, in despair at your refusal, I left the house, and, ere forty-eight hours had passed, was on my way to India. I had not formed the design of going to India in particular; but, in my then state of mind, I cared not whither I went. One resolution I formed,—that I would prove by my conduct that your apprehensions were ill founded. I got into a profitable business. In time, I married; not that I had forgotten you, but that I was solitary, and needed companionship. I had ceased to hope for yours. By and by, a daughter was born. True to my old love, I named her Hetty, and pleased myself with the thought that she bore some resemblance to you. Afterwards my wife died; misfortunes came upon me; and I found myself deprived of all my property. Then came yearnings for my native soil. I have returned (as you see), not as I departed, but poor and care-worn.” While Nicholas was speaking, Miss Hetty’s mind was filled with conflicting emotions. At length, extending her hand frankly, she said,— “I feel that I was too hasty, Nicholas. I should have tried you longer. But, at least, I may repair my injustice. I have enough for us all. You shall come and live with me.” “I can only accept your generous offer on one condition,” said Nicholas. “And what is that?” “That you will be my wife!” A vivid blush came over Miss Hetty’s countenance. She “couldn’t think of such a thing,” she said. Nevertheless, an hour afterwards the two united lovers had fixed upon the marriage-day. * * * * * The house does not look so prim as it used to do. The yard is redolent with many fragrant flowers. The front door is half open, revealing a little girl playing with a kitten. “Hetty,” says a matronly lady, “you have got the ball of yarn all over the floor. What would your father say if he should see it?” “Never mind, mother; it was only kitty that did it.” Marriage has filled up a void in the heart of Miss Hetty. Though not so prim, or perhaps careful, as she used to be, she is a good deal happier. Three hearts are filled with thankfulness at every return of MISS HENDERSON’S THANKSGIVING DAY. LITTLE CHARLIE. A violet grew by the river-side, And gladdened all hearts with its bloom; While over the fields, on the scented air, It breathed a rich perfume. But the clouds grew dark in the angry sky, And its portals were opened wide; And the heavy rain beat down the flower That grew by the river-side. Not far away, in a pleasant home, There lived a little boy, Whose cheerful face and childish grace Filled every heart with joy. He wandered one day to the river’s verge, With no one near to save; And the heart that we loved with a boundless love Was stilled in the restless wave.