And then Norine laid her head on the motherly breast, and cried silently but heartily for a moment, while Mrs. Higgins, fully understanding the case, smoothed her hair carelessly and wiped her own eyes furtively. But when Norine had run away to bathe her eyes, lest Jim might see her crying, and misunderstand the cause, Mrs. Higgins went up to the closed door of Clinton’s room, and shook her fists at its unresponsive panels. After shaking first one fist, and then the other, and then both at once, and finding herself greatly benefited by this vigorous exercise, she resumed her work with her face as stony and imperturbable as ever. It was Jim’s habit, after the evening chores were done, to sit in front of the wide, old-fashioned kitchen fire and smoke. Norine took advantage of this habit to-night to tell him her secret. So, when Jim came in, after making the animals comfortable for the night, he found her bustling around, making a great pretense of filling his pipe, and arranging things for his comfort. Jim noticed this, but being a wise young man, and probably somewhat prepared for what was to come, said nothing, but took his pipe from her with a look of thanks, and, sitting down, commenced to smoke. There was a tired, thoughtful look on the young man’s face--a discontented look almost--but Norine, too full of her own happiness, for once did not notice it. “Jim,” she said softly, leaning over his chair from behind, with a round, soft arm on either shoulder, “Jim, I have something to tell you.” “I am afraid I know it, Norry.” “Afraid, Jim? You do not mean that, or you can not know what I was about to say.” Jim said nothing, only stared into the blackened fireplace with a thoughtful face. His pipe was out, but from time to time he made a pretense of smoking. “You are not angry, Jim?” asked Norine in a pitiful tone. “Was I ever angry with you, my little sister?” “No, Jim. You have been the best of loving brothers, and I want you to be so always. But you do not seem pleased, Jim.” “Do you care for him, Norry?” “I love him, Jim,” said Norine softly; “I love him better than I can tell, and he loves me.” And the glad lovelight filled her eyes. Jim sat silent for a moment, and sighed heavily. “I shall be very lonely without you, Norry,” he said, “but I have no wish but for your happiness. If you love him, dear, go to him, and I will help you all I can.” Norine’s heart was deeply touched, and she wondered if this new love, that had so soon become a part of her being, would be as unselfish as the brotherly love she was leaving--no, not leaving--and she told Jim all that had been said by her lover and herself in the woods that day. “I am not to leave you, Jim,” she said. “We want to stay here with you, and I want you to love him a little for my sake.” And Jim kissed her and promised, and when he saw the look of contentment come back into her eyes he sent her away to join her lover.