This was a charming surprise to Hilda. She was ready by the time Mrs.

Courtney and Mrs. Merryman had discussed the needs of the prospective young traveler, and it seemed like a fairy story that instead of walking to school, she was spinning along the pleasant road between Dorton and Baltimore in a roomy, comfortable carriage behind a pair of fine bay horses, and with the charming companionship of Mrs. Courtney.

Shopping proved to be the most attractive of amus.e.m.e.nts as they drove from one business house to another, and to the inexperienced girl Mrs.

Courtney's purse seemed inexhaustible.

"One article that Mrs. Merryman and I agreed upon as being indispensable is a large trunk," Mrs. Courtney remarked as they reached the city. "We will buy it the first article, and all the other purchases can be taken home in it."

Hilda was charmed with the selection made. It was handsome, substantial and commodious, with many little compartments dear to the heart of the feminine traveler.

The buying of dress goods came next, and Hilda was in her element, and Mrs. Courtney was surprised at the judgment she evinced in selecting what was suitable to her age and appearance.

Wraps, hats, gloves, ruffles, and all the articles which complete a girl's wardrobe were rapidly filling the trunk which Mose had strapped on the rack on the back of the carriage.

"Now, dear Hilda, I have a favor to ask of you, and that is to sit for your picture. Mrs. Merryman wishes one, I should like to have one, and brother Valentine would be pleased to have you present one to him."

"And one for Miss Jerusha Flint," supplemented Hilda, laughingly.

"Of course," a.s.sented Mrs. Courtney, amused at the suggestion. "But first we will take luncheon at the ladies' restaurant where I always go upon these shopping tours, then to the picture gallery, then to a dressmaker's to be fitted, and I think we will feel that we have made very good use of our time."

"But, dear Mrs. Courtney, would it not be better to wait for the photograph until one of these new dresses is made?"

"No, dear, we prefer seeing you in the pink cashmere. It is the same you wore when last at 'My Lady's Manor,' and is very becoming. We will go now and have a good luncheon which will refresh us for our afternoon's shopping."

The gallery was visited and the sweet face of Hilda imaged for the friends she was soon to leave, the dresses fitted, and she supposed all they had come to do was accomplished.

"We have had a pleasant day together, Hilda," said her friend, "and I wish to give you a remembrance of it and of me-something useful as well as ornamental. Would you like a watch?"

No need to wait for an answer; the beaming eyes, smiling lips and rosy tint which rose to the fair face were more expressive than words, and Mrs. Courtney led the way to a jeweler's where she again had occasion to admire the innate refinement and courtesy of Hilda. What the donor selected was her choice, and her pleasure was enhanced and the value of the gift increased by the inscription which Mrs. Courtney requested should be engraved on the inner side of the case: "The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want."

It was left with the jeweler to be brought out to "Friedenheim" by Mr.

Courtney. Then they turned their faces homeward, and thus ended this red letter day in the life of Hilda.

It had always been a foregone conclusion that anything in which Mrs.

Courtney took part proved to be a success; therefore the pretty new gowns, the watch and the cabinet pictures reached "Friedenheim" in good time, and were satisfactory in every respect.

Mrs. Warfield's son Paul came at the appointed time and was, in the eyes of Mr. Valentine Courtney-who, with his sister, called that evening to see him and bid good-bye to Hilda-a young Apollo. In the opinion of the others-Hilda not excepted-he was a tall, finely formed young man, with good features, dark hair and eyes and a firm mouth and chin.

He bore well his part in the after-supper conversation, and Hilda had a feeling of pride that her Aunt Ashley's nephew was so worthy the attention of her Dorton friends, while he was more than pleased with them all.

"He is young, handsome, cultured, well educated and agreeable," thought Mr. Courtney. "There is every reason for Hilda to become attached to him now that they will be under the same roof."

Obeying the request of Mrs. Courtney, and her own inclination, Hilda selected the most perfect of the pictures of herself to give to Mr.

Courtney, and had gone to her room early in the evening and had brought it down to the parlor to have it in readiness to give when he arose to leave.

It was given and accepted, farewells were said, and the Courtneys went to their homes; then Hilda, who had borne herself bravely during the evening, bade Mr. and Mrs. Merryman and Paul good-night and went to her room, and from the window looked with tear-dimmed eyes upon "My Lady's Manor."

She watched the light gleaming in the library where she knew that Mr.

Courtney was sitting alone, and when at a late hour it disappeared she retired and wept until slumber closed her eyes.

The next morning was bright and beautiful, and, refreshed by sleep, and possessing the hope and buoyancy of youth when not crushed out by affliction or cruelty, Hilda arose and dressed for her journey in the pretty new traveling dress, which, with hat and gloves, she had placed in readiness before retiring.

Descending to breakfast, the first object that met her gaze was a bouquet of roses which she knew at a glance had come from Mr. Courtney.

She had been accustomed to seeing flowers all her life, but these seemed the sweetest and loveliest she had ever known. She examined each bud and blossom, and admired anew the donor's name and compliments upon the card.

Tears were in Mrs. Merryman's eyes, and tender-hearted Norah wept, when Hilda, equipped for the journey, stood, bouquet in hand, ready to go to the carriage which Perry brought to the gate.

"Good-bye, dear Aunt Merryman!" she said, putting an arm around that faithful friend as they stood upon the piazza.

"Good-bye, dear Hilda!" responded the lady as she pressed kisses upon the lips and the fair brow of the girl. "We shall miss you; do not forget us."

"How can I forget, when I have found mother and father in you and Uncle Merryman?"

"And, Hilda," continued Mrs. Merryman in a low tone, and noticing that Mr. Merryman and Paul were engaged in parting words-"never, never let your Aunt Ashley's prayer grow dim in your memory."

"No, dear Aunt Merryman, I will always look upon it as my guide through life, and with it will a.s.sociate you who have tenderly kept it in my remembrance; and see," she added with a sudden flush of color to her cheeks, "it is being answered, in part, at least, for my home and that of Aunt Sarah Warfield will be one and the same."

They all walked down the path to the waiting carriage, Mr. Merryman helped her in and bade her good-bye; then with a few last words they were on their way to the Dorton station while Mr. and Mrs. Merryman returned slowly to the house feeling that something sweet and pleasant had been removed from their home and lives, never again to be restored.

In a few minutes the travelers reached Baltimore, where the train halted, and to Hilda's surprise and pleasure Mr. Valentine Courtney appeared at the window by which she was seated, his handsome face growing brighter when he saw his roses in her hand.

"They are lovely; I treasure them!" she said, touching them with her lips.

"And this, also, I hope," he said, putting a small package in her hand.

"I know I shall," she answered, flushing with surprise and antic.i.p.ation, giving him a smile and glance which lingered long in his memory. She waved her hand in farewell, and they were gone. And he returned to his office, and in the evening to "My Lady's Manor," feeling more desolate than he had ever been in his life.

The world in which he had lived since taking possession of his home was not, as it had been, the matter-of-fact world of business alone. It was a new world, rosy with sweet companionship and hope; morning sunshine which had now given place to evening clouds and coming darkness.

He tried to think that he was no more desolate than before he had known Hilda, but his reasonings brought no comfort. He was not-as when Anna was taken from him-reconciled to the lot which he had in Christian faith looked upon as not only out of his power to prevent, but as something which G.o.d willed, and it was therefore his Christian duty to be submissive.

Had Hilda been a few years older, Paul Warfield should not have taken her away before he had made known his attachment. He had not done this, believing it not honorable to fetter her with a promise before she had seen anything of the world. Now she was gone, and he was grieved that he had given her no hint of his feelings. He realized that he had been unjust to himself and to her.

As soon as possible after they were again on their way, Hilda untied the packet and brought to view a crimson velvet case in which was a fine picture of Mr. Courtney.

"Oh, it is so like him, so exactly like him!" she exclaimed in delight, as Paul bent his stately head to look upon it. "Isn't he the very handsomest man you ever saw?"

"He is very elegant looking, indeed, Cousin Hilda," responded Paul heartily.

"And just as good as he is handsome! He is so kind to everybody and urges poor Archie, who saved my life, to make his home at 'My Lady's Manor,' and pa.s.s his days in rest and comfort; but Archie will stay only for a night, preferring to wander about."

"He is handsome and of n.o.ble presence, Cousin Hilda," remarked Paul as he saw her looking again upon the picture, "but I cannot agree with you that he is the handsomest man I ever saw, and he is somewhat gray."

"Only a little upon the temples," said Hilda eagerly. "Some persons turn gray early."

"Wait until you have seen my brother Fred," said Paul, a little confusedly. "Do not think me boastful, Cousin Hilda, but all agree that Fred is very handsome, and he is young."

"I suppose he looks like you," said Hilda, in all sincerity.