huge loaves, large and that atling
Boss was in the act of s
the oven, and was

in their steal things
with Newton, it will up the g
smoking his ciger until Serta doll yo
him again; he was att in the m
morning to meet From Wings j
and the old mille's re
small attraction for him

So Newton went in line, an

for poor Bon, who was just ning ed
Frau Mässinger's outfuste of mir
some imagined in Big
were red, and the dark is
were darker than ear, and the f
was raised to Sewton was very plea

part, brothers,
aught of all,

our hearts, brothers,
share our toil.

han usual in Mässin

mill itself, for, strange work, and the huge splashing through the of froth and foam, and ght burden. The fact

there was no one to old miller himself was ad and good-natured; it tivals which he usually ting tipsy, and he was m being so.

was killing the fatted calf ot exactly in honour of a

only tell me there is hope for me tell me that you love me.'

'I have told you,' she answered in her gravest, saddest tone; I have told you, and I hoped you would never pain me by speaking thus to me again. I would do anything for you, anything I could to repay you for saving Dick-anything for your own sake,' she added, her voice trembling with agitated feeling, but I can never marry you—never.'

The chill autumnal wind whistled by outside, bringing a blast of raindrops against the window with a petulant and crying sound. It seemed like a solemn accompaniment to her words, and they rung on Newton's ears like a knell.

'Then good-bye, Nesta,' he said, rising from his seat and taking hold of her soft white fingers they were icy cold, and her face was deadly pale. Good-bye, Nesta, I must not stay here in this way; but God knows wherever I am I can never in heart be separated from you. May God bless you.'

In another moment he was out of the

room, and Nesta was alone.

door close, she listened to his steps, and burst into tears.

love him?

She heard the

receding footDid she not

When Mr. Stanley returned to the room, he found her calm and composed as usual, and as if nothing had happened. He told her that her sister was less well that evening, and that she would be glad to see her. Nesta obeyed; she was glad of anything that could take her out of herself. She went upstairs and along the corridor leading to her sister's room, but as she passed one door, she heard a kind of low wailing sound; perhaps it was the wind, playing its sad Eolian melody through the crevices, or it might be a human voice breathing forth its woe in prayer.

All that night Nesta stayed with her sister; she could almost have envied her, lying there, so near the end of her journey, so restful and so peaceful. The pale sweet face only looked a little paler than usual, the eyes a little more bright and glossy; the