at this trying moment, it would be the knowledge of the number of good things one bursting hamper contains. As it is, I am vaguely conscious of some pleasant morsel at the back of my mind that will by-and-by emerge to the front and comfort me. I have swallowed half an egg and a pint of salt tears for breakfast; I have wished papa good-bye, or rather I have aimed a damp shot at his nose, between the sheets (he is ill); and now I am standing in the hall, hugging my plentiful brothers and sisters all round, kissing them passionately with streaming cheeks and loud sobs, that might melt the heart of a stone. Finally, I bolt headlong into the carriage, where mother sits awaiting me, and burrow on the floor thereof. Charles Lovelace puts his head in at the window to squeeze a tiny packet into my hand. I cannot thank him, for my voice is attuned to nothing but howls; and away we go. I lift myself from my abased condition, to wave my dripping pocket-handkerchief at the group by the door, and find some small comfort in the fact that they are crying, every one, except Charles. The sight of their regret gives me a fresh access of grief, and I am just retiring behind my useless handkerchief, to indulge in a storm of sobs, when the carriage stops, and George Tempest comes to the window. "Good-bye," he says, taking my hand in his, and looking painedly at my blubbered, miserable face, "good-bye!" That is all he says, and yet he conveys as much sorrow and sympathy in the homely word as though he had talked for an hour. As we drive on again I begin a fresh bout that includes the leaving him in its grievances; and by the time we reach the station I am damp enough to give any one near me a cold, if it were winter instead of summer time. Jack fishes me out, and puts me in the waiting-room, with the rest of the light luggage, and, while the footman gets our tickets, he tries to revive my drooping spirits by sketches as to what we will do in the Christmas holidays. But oh! on this burning dog-day, Christmas seems a very, very long way off; be-
