How many proud unhappy souls are there at this moment, voluntarily absenting themselves from all that love them in the world, because they dread sneers and cold looks at home! And how many of these, going back, would find only tears of joy to welcome them, and hear that ever since their absence they had been spoken of with kindness and tenderness, and loved, perhaps, above all the others! After dinner, when the women were alone together, Mrs.Buckley began,-- "Now, my dear Mary, you must hear all the news.

My husband has had a letter from Stockbridge." "Ah, dear old Jim!" said Mary; "and how is he ?" "He and Hamlyn are quite well," said Mrs.Buckley, "and settled.

He has written such an account of that country to Major Buckley, that he, half persuaded before, is now wholly determined to go there himself." "I heard of this before," said Mary.

"Am I to lose you, then, at once ?" "We shall see," said Mrs.Buckley; "I have my ideas.

Now, who do you think is going beside ?" "Half Devonshire, I should think," said Mary; "at least, all whom I care about." "It would seem so, indeed, my poor girl," said Mrs.Buckley; "for your cousin Troubridge has made up his mind to come." "There was a time when I could have stopped him," she thought; "but that is gone by now." And she answered Mrs.Buckley:-- "Aunt and I will stay here, and think of you all.