At least, according to my belief; but I am not learned in entomology." "Ento--, what a hard word!" cried Sibylla, in her prettily affected manner.

"I should never find out how to spell it." Lionel smiled.

His deep love was shining out of his eyes as he looked down upon her.

He loved her powerfully, deeply, passionately; to him she was as a very angel, and he believed her to be as pure-souled, honest-hearted, and single-minded.
"Where did my aunt go to-day ?" inquired Sibylla, alluding to Mrs.
Verner.
"She did not go anywhere that I am aware of," he answered.
"I saw the carriage out this afternoon." "It was going to the station for Miss Tempest." "Oh! she's come, then?
Have you seen her?
What sort of a demoiselle does she seem ?" "The sweetest child!--she looks little more than a child!" cried Lionel impulsively.
"A child, is she?
I had an idea she was grown up.

Have any of you at Verner's Pride heard from John ?" "No." "But the mail's in, is it not?
How strange that he does not write!" "He may be coming home with his gold," said Lionel.
They were interrupted.