somewhat plaintively uttered speech, Patty came to beg Lisette to go to her lady, and the next moment she was again the brisk little abigail, twining around her fingers the soft, silvery locks of Miss Lomax, as carefully and gently as if the baby ringlets of her sister Nettie were within her grasp; and there was something so pleasant to Aunt Leonora in the light, delicate touch, in the glimpses she caught in the mirror of the young face bending over hers, that, when she was coiffée-fully to her approval-she preferred keeping Lisette to put on her gown, instead of allowing Patty to return to her; and on descending, she was full of praises of Dora's little jewel of a maid.

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CHAPTER XV.

SUNDAY

LISETTE Will often look back on that next Sunday spent at The Firs-the quiet, balmy morning when, the usual sounds of busy toil being hushed, there was nothing to break upon the stillness without but the songs of birds, tuned, as it seemed to her, into some soft, holy melody the distant musical peal of church bells -the gentle, breezy rustling of leafy boughs, and the hum of bees nestling in the jessamine and eglantine outside her bedroom window.

Dora Freeling went alone to morning service, Lisette remaining behind with Miss Lomax, who summoned her young attendant to prayers with her in the drawing-room. The scene constantly returns before Lisette; in her mind's eye

she beholds the half-darkened room, shaded to keep out the fervid heat of the flaming sun, which, notwithstanding, ever and anon lighted up the apartment, and all its rich furniture and ornaments, by one of its brilliant gleams, piercing through the conservatory, which, under the influence of the same bright ray, might have been a scene in fairy land, with its light trellises -its bowery arches-its festoons of feathery green-its gorgeous hues-its shining crystal roof—its multitudes of hanging sprays and flowery branches; whilst the delicate, refined perfume, belonging so exclusively to exotics, mingling with the spicy pot-pourri in the china jars, and the scent of the sandal-wood cabinet in the drawing-room come frequently back upon her senses. Then the quaint little figure in the pale lilac silk dress, and gay cap-ribbons, standing up so erectly whilst she jubilantly tripped through the Psalms, kneeling far into the deep, velvet chair, her feet off the ground-confidently arrogating to herself the office of priest and minister, or seated in an attitude of repose, her arms folded, listening approvingly, whilst Lisette

read the appointed lesson (the story of the little maid who waited on Naaman's wife it happened to be)—all these, and many other circumstances, though quite trifling in themselves, will often in after days return to Lisette's memory, with the thought of Aunt Leonora.

Then, the devotions being over, and the beef tea duly despatched, Miss Lomax desired her to unfasten the case containing a large photograph of Godfrey Rivers, which all day stood open before the old lady, and was closed by her own hands every night.

As Lisette was obeying her order, she said, "You do not perhaps see any likeness in this to the picture of the little boy which hangs in my bedroom; nevertheless they are of the same person."

"Yes," answered Lisette, "and the same also as the young gentleman with the bat, in my room."

"You are right," returned Miss Lomax; "there are a great many in the house, of one sort or another, for I used to like having him done at different ages."

"I am sure he must have been a very nice young gentleman," put in Lisette pertinently.

"Well, I think so," returned Miss Lomax ; then she continued, "but my pet of all the pictures is this one in my bracelet. Come here, I will let you see it for a treat, because you are being very good to me whilst Benwell is away." And she touched a spring in the gold clasp, and displayed one of those exquisitely painted miniatures of a child, which used formerly to be so much in request, but unhappily have become almost superseded by the more inexpensive, but far less satisfactory, vignette photographs.

“Oh, what a darling, what a little beauty!" exclaimed Lisette, with all her natural enthusiasm, "how you must have doted on him!"

Yes," proceeded the old lady, "he was a pretty child, and he has grown up a handsome man-as you may perceive by that photograph," glancing at the one in the erect morocco case. Then, half to Lisette, half to herself, she murmured, “I had hoped he would have been here now."

But judging this was a matter, which in no way