It was one of those caprices which every one experiences at times;--and so, although the girl had quite a magazine of such ornaments, she persisted in wearing the old necklace bought from the pedlar.

Perhaps the word Providence may explain the matter.
To the girl's observation, that he had a fine evening for his ride homeward, Verty replied--Yes, that he had; that he could not go by, however, without coming to see her.
And as he uttered these words, the simple and tender glances of the two young persons encountered each other; and they both smiled.
"You know you are not very well," added Verty; "and I could'nt sleep well if I did not know how you were, Redbud." The girl thanked him with another smile, and said: "I believe I am nearly well now; the cold I caught the other day has entirely left me.

I almost think I might take a stroll, if the sun was not so low." "It is half an hour high--that is, it will not get cool until then," Verty said.
"Do you think I would catch cold ?" asked the girl, smiling.
"I don't know," Verty said.
"Well, I do not think I will, and you shall wrap me in your coat, if I do," she said, laughing.
In ten minutes, Redbud and Verty were strolling through the grove, and admiring the sunset.
"How pretty it is," she said, gazing with pensive pleasure on the clouds; "and the old grove here is so still." "Yes," Verty said, "I like the old grove very much.

Do you see that locust?
It was just at the foot of it, that we found the hare's form, when Dick mowed the grass.

You recollect ?" "Oh, yes," Redbud replied; "and I remember what dear little creatures they were--not bigger than an apple, and with such frightened eyes.
We put them back, you know, Verty--that is, I made you," she added, laughing.
Verty laughed too.
"They were funny little creatures," he said; "and they would have died--you know we never could have got the right things for them to eat--yes! there, in the long grass! How Molly Cotton jumped away." They walked on.
"Here, by the filbert bush, we used to bury the apples to get mellow," Verty said; "nice, yellow, soft things they were, when we dug them up, with a smell of the earth about 'em! They were not like the June apples we used to get in the garden, where they dropped among the corn--their striped, red sides all covered with dust!" "I liked the June apples the best," Redbud said, "but I think October is finer than June." "Oh, yes.