"No--you couldn't tell how he feels toward my Lucelet?" Minola shook her head. "If I were a man, I am sure I should be in love with her," she said. "You think so? Yes, perhaps so; but in this case, somehow----. Well, Miss Grey, another question, and then I'll release you, and speak to me frankly, like a true girl to a plain man, who treats her as such. Is there any woman, as far as you know, who is more to him than Lucelet?" Mr. Money had now come near to where Minola was sitting. He stood leaning against the chimney-piece, and looking fixedly into her face. At first she did not even understand the meaning of his question. Then suddenly she felt that her cheeks began to burn and her heart to beat. She looked up in wonder and pain, but she saw so much of earnestness and anxiety in Mr. Money's face that it would have been impossible not to understand and respect his purpose. In his anxiety for his daughter's happiness his whole soul was absorbed. Minola's heart forgot its own pain for the moment. Her own memory of a father was not of one thus unselfishly absorbed. She answered without hesitation, and with quiet self-possession. "Oh, no, Mr. Money. I know of no such woman. So far as I can guess, none such exists." Mr. Money drew a deep breath, and his eyes brightened. "Miss Grey," he said, "I think any other woman in the world would have told me she wasn't in Mr.--in _his_ secrets, or given me some evasive or petulant answer. I thank you a thousand times. We may then--I may--pursue without compunction my matchmaking schemes. They are not very selfish; they are only for Lucelet's happiness. I would ask one of my office clerks to marry her if she loved him and he was likely to make her happy; and I would set them up in life. You may guess, then, whether this idea pleases me. But I confess I didn't think--well, of course, your assurance is enough, but I began to think of something different." Minola rose to go away. "One word, Miss Grey. Pray don't say anything to my wife about this. She is the truest and kindest of women, as you know, but she can't understand keeping anything a secret, and she always begs of us to leave her out of the smallest plot of the most innocent kind, because she must let it all out prematurely. Now I'll release you, and you have, at all events, one friend in life to be going on with--friend among the aged I mean; the rest will come fast enough." With a bewildered head and a bursting heart, Minola found her way to her own room. MOHEGAN-HUDSON. Where the northern forest flings Its shadows over weeping hills, Rivulets rise in myriad springs And run to meet in roaring kills. Soon from these a great stream grows; Grows--and grows more strong and free, Till a noble river flows; Flows majestic to the sea.