But when Talbot graduated at twenty-three with all the honors of his Alma Mater, Nina at thirteen was not making any very rapid strides toward being a charming young lady. She was such a willful, capricious, yet withal loving little thing, and her wishes were so absolute that her education had been dreadfully neglected. Mr. Selwyn loved her too well to send her away from him to school, so he had employed governesses at home, who one after another resigned their situations in despair, declaring that Miss Selwyn would not attend to her books, and that she was a wretched little romp, who cared for nothing but boats, and dogs, and horses, and rough out-door sports. Unfortunately, these charges were all quite true. Nina _did_ hate books, and she _did_ love to be out of doors all the time, gathering flowers in the splendid gardens and conservatories of Selwyn Heights, or boating fearlessly on the billowy sea, or riding at break-neck pace on her spirited white pony, with a grumbling groom galloping behind her. Thus life went on, until she was thirteen, and from time to time her doting parents would say, excusingly: “The child is so thin and delicate that it is best to let her gain health and strength in her outdoor pursuits, that she first learned to love when she was Talbot’s little companion. There is time enough yet to restrain her and educate her before she is a young lady.” Poor little Nina Selwyn, those were her happiest days--those free, untroubled days that were soon to be only a memory--the sweetest memory in a life that in the coming time was to have many a thorn among its roses. For suddenly, from a sky that had hitherto been cloudless and serene, fell a swift, terrible bolt of fate. Just before Talbot came home to prepare for the European tour that was to follow his college course, Mr. Selwyn died suddenly one evening while sitting peacefully in his chair watching a beautiful sunset scene. All his affairs were found in perfect order at the reading of the will. His large fortune was divided equally between his idolized daughter and his beloved wife, the latter being appointed Nina’s guardian. But the loving wife did not live to discharge the sacred trust bequeathed her. She was a nervous, delicately-organized woman, and she never recovered the shock of her husband’s sudden death. In two weeks she followed him to the grave, leaving behind her the two whom she loved so well, and for whose future she had so hopefully plotted and planned--a future which she influenced as much as her limited time on earth would permit her, for before she died, she had joined the hands of the beloved son and the simple, unformed girl of thirteen--had seen consummated the marriage that is the subject of our story. CHAPTER IV. COMING HOME.