[Illustration: THE GIRL’S OWN PAPER VOL. XX.—NO. 1020.] JULY 15, 1899. [PRICE ONE PENNY.] A LESSON IN LOVE. BY FREDERICK LANGBRIDGE. [Illustration] _All rights reserved._] She was like the hawthorn snow— Like a furry kitten— Like a cherry’s melting glow Ere a beak hath bitten. She was laugh and rosy pout, Beam and dew together; Green was all the vale about— It was April weather. “Do, do, do’e, do!” Hark, the dove is cooing! All the sky is tender blue, All the world is wooing. Little sunbeams kissed her face Every time they spied her: “O to take a sunbeam’s place!” Mused the boy beside her. He would die to kiss her shoe, Wrought of fairy leather; And he did as lovers do— Talked about the weather. “Do, do, do’e, do!” Hark, the dove is cooing! All the sky is tender blue, All the world is wooing. Daisy let her lashes fall— All the day was darkling: Yet beneath their fringèd pall Mirthful eyes were sparkling. From the poplar overhead Fluttered down a feather: “Hear the doves,” she meekly said, “Talking of the weather!” “Do, do, do’e, do!” All the doves are cooing! Fell the boy a-pleading too— Happy was the wooing. THE HOUSE WITH THE VERANDAH. BY ISABELLA FYVIE MAYO, Author of “Other People’s Stairs,” “Her Object in Life,” etc. CHAPTER XVI. A GLINT OF SUNSHINE. “Mr. Black,” said Lucy, speaking rather suddenly after her pause, “Miss Latimer and I are keeping house together just now, and we are hopeful of securing the services of a highly respectable elderly woman, who will keep things neat and punctual. Would you care to come and live here for the present, paying me precisely what you have paid Mrs. Mott?” “Oh, Mrs. Challoner,” cried the lad, “how can you propose such a delightful thing! It is far too good to be true! To come to a house like this, so near the office too, and your home! It would be a real kindness in you to do such a thing: but it would not be fair—you oughtn’t to think of it!” “Mr. Black,” said Lucy, “I think it may suit you very well indeed; but the kindness and the service will not be all on my side. In the event of all manner of evil chances—burglaries or chimney fires, for instance,” she interpolated with a smile, “we shall have a reliable and friendly house-mate. See how useful you were to me, and how you kept up our spirits on that terrible Christmas Day! But most especially, Mr. Black, there will be somebody else besides me for Hughie to talk to, and perhaps play with sometimes.” Her lip trembled as she spoke. It was hard to think she herself could not suffice for her own child. But she was too true a mother to limit her little boy’s enjoyments to her own failing powers, no longer equal to provide them.