"Did you not understand me before? It is Golden Chesleigh--Chesleigh after you, Uncle Bert. Is it not a pretty name?" "Very!" he rejoined, pale to the lips. "Did you think of it yourself, Ruby?" "Not at all; I asked Mary for a name, and she said Golden. Then I added Chesleigh." Some curiosity came over him to see the good nurse who loved Ruby and was kind to her, but who hated men, and who had chosen for the pretty wax doll, the sweet and unusual name of Golden. * * * * * There came a light tap on the outer door. Mrs. Desmond rose to open it. Golden peeped again and saw her cousin Elinor coming in. "May I come in and see the invalid?" she asked, brightly, and Bertram Chesleigh answered: "Yes, do, Miss Glenalvan. Ruby is better and is holding a levee of her humble subjects." Elinor kissed the child and sat down as near as she dared to Mr. Chesleigh. She looked very bright and blooming, and her dress was as usual fashionable and becoming. Golden could see that Mrs. Desmond regarded her with a real fondness. Elinor had found out the lady's weakness and played upon it skillfully. She saw that she was jealous of her husband, and immediately affected an indifference to, and an utter obliviousness of the fascinations of the handsome Mr. Desmond, that delighted his wife and drew her heart to Elinor. Clare, on the contrary, had an uncontrollable propensity for flirting, and took a malicious pleasure in witnessing the grand lady's silent rage at her walks and talks, and careless enjoyment of her flippant husband's society. The result was that Elinor received a charmingly worded invitation to return to the north with Mrs. Desmond, while Clare was silently and chillingly ignored. She was bitterly angry at missing the trip, and sorely repented her weakness, but too late for the repentance to avail, while Elinor was transported with delight. Surely, she thought, a whole winter in New York, with beautiful Golden out of the way, would be sufficient for the accomplishment of her designs upon Bertram Chesleigh's heart. Sweet Golden read her cousin's purpose plainly in the tender glances she gave Mr. Chesleigh now and then, from beneath her black-fringed lashes, and the heart of the innocent girl sank heavily. "She will win him from me," she said, drearily to herself. "Elinor is so beautiful, and graceful, and brilliant, it is a wonder that he ever liked me better than he did her. It was but a light fancy after all, perhaps. He will forget it and turn to her." The thought gave her inexpressible pain. She sank upon the floor and hid her face in her hands, weeping silent and bitter tears while the hum of gay talk and laughter flowed on unheeded in the next room. So it is ever in the busy, jostling world. Sorrow and joy go side by side. The bridal train meets the funeral procession. Life is mingled sunshine and shadow.