“When poor Robert has no consolation in the world but my company”—— “To say he has no other intoxication, would be nearer the truth. Rosalie, you are so young, so delicate, so _spirituelle_, so inexperienced. Rosalie, there is a kindness that is cruel, and that is what you have been showing ‘poor Robert’ all this time. And there is a cruelty that is kind, and that is what you must show him now.” “Mamma, if you think it wrong, I will never ride with him again.” “And avoid him as much as possible, Rosalie.” “Indeed I will, mamma. Poor Robert!” “Fudge! It will not hurt him. The flame without fuel will soon expire harmlessly.” By this time the young girl had quite recovered from her fatigue, and she arose and left the room, to prepare her strawberries, she said. She passed into a pleasant back room, connected with the pantry and dining-room, but opening upon the garden, and devoted to certain light dessert preparations; such as the shelling of peas, stoning of cherries, &c. It was a cool apartment, with a bare, white oak floor, and many doors and windows open, and looking out upon the pleasant garden, with its budding spring flowers—its roses, hyacinths, and daffodils—and upon the orchard, with its peach trees and cherry trees, covered with pink and with white blossoms, and further off, upon the green and dewy wheat field, lying in fertile dales between gray and mossy rocks and mountains. It was indeed a pleasant apartment, looking out upon a fresh, verdant, rural scene. Rosalie sat down in the midst of the room, with a basket of fresh strawberries on her right hand, an empty basket to receive the caps on her left, and a cut-glass dish on her lap. She chose to do this. She had a decided attraction to these little graceful domestic avocations; and as her nimble fingers capped the strawberries, and dropped berries in the dish, and threw caps in the basket, she began to sing some lively rural glee; and while she was busily engaged, singing and capping, she chanced to look up, and saw Mark Sutherland approaching the house from the garden. He met her glance, and smiled. She was in a merry mood, or she would not have felt free to say to him what she did. “Come in, Mr. Sutherland; I have got something for you, very nice!” Mark came in, and she said, “Make a bowl of your joined hands, now, and here!” She poured into his hands some fine large strawberries, adding, “These are the first fruits of the season, Mr. Sutherland, and we offer them to you.” “Let me first merit them, by helping you,” said Mark. “Will you help me?” “Certainly; that is, if I am not intruding on some housekeeping sanctuary.” “Oh, no! this room is open and common to the whole family; why, it is the pleasantest room in the house, only as it is near the pantry and dining-room, and opens upon the kitchen garden, we prepare our fruit, and sometimes pick over our vegetables here.”