Rose turned suddenly, and ran upstairs.
"We shall miss you--I shall miss you," she said at last.
"It will not be for long," he answered, carelessly.

"Come in and sing me a song." The first pang of doubt that had ever crossed Kate's mind of her handsome lover, crossed it now, as she followed him into the drawing-room.
"How careless he is!" she thought; "how willing to leave me! And I--could I be contented anywhere in the world where he was not ?" By some mysterious chance, the song she selected was Eeny's "smile again, my dearest love; weep not that I leave thee." Stanford listened to it, his sunny face overcast.
"Why did you sing that ?" he asked abruptly, when she had done.
"Don't you like it ?" "No; I don't like cynicism set to music.

Here is a French chansonnette--sing me that." Kate sang for him song after song.

The momentary pain the announcement of his departure had given her wore away.
"It is natural he should like change," she thought, "and it is dull here.

I am glad he is going to Ottawa, and yet I shall miss him.