creature should not be hurt by foot or hoof; and after that, Gwyneth held her tongue for a while. They sat in the large wide porch, which, with its projecting gable and curiously-carved roof, formed so conspicuous an ornament to the front of the Vicarage, and harmonized so well with the many angles, overhanging eaves, mullioned windows, and twisted chimneys of that quaint old house. It was a building well suited to the forest scenery on which it closely bordered, with its time-mellowed red-brick, and gray stone coignings, and huge oaken beams, whose ends were grotesquely carved. From that porch you could see the old church, half concealed in a grove of trees, principally lime and sycamore; and further off, the houses scattered on the village green, or retreating back amid the clumps of oak and holly; while to the south, through a long vista in the forest, you caught a view of distant hills, blue and shadowy, and a winding river, and a wide extended plain. Here they sat and chatted gayly, while the young girls ate the fruit and cake, for which their ride had given them an appetite, and which Hilary brought out to them in an old-fashioned china basket, until the hour of bed-time arrived, and the children left them; and then the others returned to the cool parlor, where Hilary made tea, and smiled and chatted with her father; Mrs. Duncan meanwhile resting quietly on the sofa, nearly silent, and perhaps engrossed in thought. Hilary’s was the hopeful as well as the trustful temper of youth, unaccustomed to the vicissitudes of life; the storm of which she saw no symptoms could not alarm her; and although her step-mother’s presentiments had at first raised a vague terror, she had recovered from this feeling, and was now tranquil. The trust which she felt that all would be for the best, conspired to increase this peaceful state, for to her young mind, it seemed impossible that good could spring from such sorrow as the loss of the only mother she had known, would occasion her and her family; therefore this loss was not to be expected or feared. Hers was the youthful idea of divine protection, and fatherly care; years of experience alone can teach us that “His ways are not as ours,” and that it is not exemption from suffering which is promised to His children, but such discipline as shall strengthen, and purify, and elevate their hearts. It was a cheerful family party on which the bright summer moon peeped in through the old windows that evening; and Hilary, as she penned a few words at night, of the journal which she always kept for her only brother Maurice, recorded with a grateful heart, that hers was indeed a happy lot.