Trees just tinged with the first frost of autumn, the grass soft and green as velvet, gleams of water here and there, flowers scattered along the drive, or clustering in gorgeous masses; above all a soft blue sky with snowy clouds heaped upon it, drifted to and fro by a mild south wind. Can anyone doubt that this was Heaven itself to that fair and gentle girl who had never in her whole life looked upon a scene of such beauty before; indeed had scarcely seen a tree that was not covered with dust from a city street, or a growing flower except the humble garden plants that bloomed around her own home. “Oh, Eva, Eva! this is too beautiful! drive slower! drive slower! I cannot bear to see all these heavenly things pass away,” she would murmur, catching her breath with delight. “The water there; the water, let me look at it; let me feel the moist sweet air on my face.” Eva would check her ponies and bend her smiling eyes on the invalid with loving satisfaction whenever she made a request of this kind; occasionally she would utter a little gleeful laugh at some question that a child would not have asked. Sometimes her eyes would fill with tears, as she felt the touching pathos of all this joy springing out of her sister’s utter isolation, which she in her health and beauty had scarcely comprehended before. “What are those beautiful white creatures, Ruthy? Ah, indeed! how should you know? They are swans, dear; there now, watch them as they clear the water with their snow-white bosoms. See them arch their graceful necks and sail off toward the other shore scarcely caring to make way for the pretty boats that glide up and down with such sleepy stillness. Beautiful, you say, yes, indeed it is beautiful. I shall never get so used to it that every visit will not give me new delight.” Ruth did not answer. Her heart was too full of new feelings. She drew a deep breath and closed her eyes. It all seemed like a dream that she wanted to impress on her brain. That moment a landeau drove by in which was a lady and gentleman. Mrs. Lambert and her step-son, Ivon. Ruth opened her eyes suddenly. “What is the matter, what made you start so, Eva?” “Nothing,” answered Eva, gathering up her reins. “Only you seem tired.” “No, no, I am only happy.” Mrs. Lambert had seen Eva Laurence, and the sight sent a swift thrill of pain through her bosom. She turned and spoke to her son. “Ivon.” Young Lambert turned sharply to his mother; he also had seen the two girls in their little phaeton, and the sight brought back a keen remembrance of all that this woman’s pride had made him suffer. “Did you speak, madam?” “You saw that young lady, and bowed coldly. I am sorry for that.” “Sorry, why, madam?” “Because circumstances are changed, now. I no longer oppose your wish to marry her.” “Indeed, and in what has the lady changed?” “She has become the adopted child of a man who, at least, holds a high position in commercial circles.”