it? It's a sorry sight!" repeated Nathan, shaking his head dolefully as he went out at the door again.

"What did he come for, Cassie, all in such a hurry?" said Lydia, anxiously, as the girl came slowly back.

"Axe me no questions and I'll tell thee no lies," answered she, with a laughing caress.

"He came to axe thee go wi' him?" Lydia went on. "I know he did, and thou hast given it up because o' me, my darlin'. Think on it agin. I can fend for German, and belike too he may marry. Why shouldst thou fling away what's for thy good wi' thinkin' o' me?"

"I was na' thinking o' thee one bit," said Cassie gaily (it was the first time Lydia had seen the poor girl smile for months). "I were just a thinkin' o' mysen. Martha Savage 'ud be a sore un to live with. Sure life's better nor house or land, and 'tis life to live wi' thee and German. Thou shaltna get shut on me so," she added, with a kiss.

Lydia shook her hand lovingly at her, and said

no more.

The little cart was soon laden: the old squire had been substantially kind to them, had found a small cottage in the valley below, and given them any

furniture they chose to take away, the old cow and a pig. The melancholy little party set off, German in front leading the horse, the cart built up with the "bits o' things "-which look so pathetic-of an uprooted household. Then came Cassie driving the cow and carrying a basket with her own particular laying hen; and lastly, Lydia, with certain brittle articles which the ruts made it impossible to convey otherwise in safety. It was a dull, gloomy day: a thick mist almost blotted out the landscape, and was nearly as wet as rain. Silently they turned away from the old pillared gateway and the old grey house, which looked as mournful as if it felt the desertion, and the only sound heard was the squeaking of the little pig in a hamper at the top of the cart, which lamented its departure with loud squeals, answered from the farmyard by the cries of the bereaved mother growing fainter and more faint in the distance. Not a word was spoken by any of them till they reached their future home in the small scattered hamlet below. It stood apart on the side of the hill, in the space formed by a little quarry, out of which the house had been built. On the other side was a steep terraced garden supported by a high wall looking down to the green croft in which it was set. Before

furniture they chose to take away, the old cow and a pig. The melancholy little party set off, German in front leading the horse, the cart built up with the "bits o' things "-which look so pathetic-of an uprooted household. Then came Cassie driving the cow and carrying a basket with her own particular laying hen; and lastly, Lydia, with certain brittle articles which the ruts made it impossible to convey otherwise in safety. It was a dull, gloomy day: a thick mist almost blotted out the landscape, and was nearly as wet as rain. Silently they turned away from the old pillared gateway and the old grey house, which looked as mournful as if it felt the desertion, and the only sound heard was the squeaking of the little pig in a hamper at the top of the cart, which lamented its departure with loud squeals, answered from the farmyard by the cries of the bereaved mother growing fainter and more faint in the distance. Not a word was spoken by any of them till they reached their future home in the small scattered hamlet below. It stood apart on the side of the hill, in the space formed by a little quarry, out of which the house had been built. On the other side was a steep terraced garden supported by a high wall looking down to the green croft in which it was set. Before