ed naturally grave and quiet: but the fairy figure and dimpled mouth of the little girl were at variance with her present listless attitude. "I see it—I see," said Mr. Selwyn, "they are pining away for a healthier air. In two years I can retire to England: but now, amid the many difficulties that surround us, I cannot in honour resign my situation."
"But," returned Dr. Irvine, "you have friends in England: and they are still too young to need that watchful guidance which will be so important in a few years. I dare not deceive you: Marion will not live over another rainy season: Francis you might venture to retain with you."
"I will not part them; I cannot bear that abscence should weaken their now perfect affection: besides (and do not think this weak partiality), I shall be happier for knowing that Francis is with his sister. In care and thoughtfulness, he is far beyond his years, and till I myself can reach England, they shall not be parted."
Dr. Irvine hesitated for a moment: he had only performed one half of his painful task. Mr. Selwyn stood watching from the window the pallid countenance of his little girl, when his friendly adviser broke the silence by saying, "Poor Marion herself
