nations with a sweetness that was quite enchanting.
And she could translate quite well, in an idiomatic fashion. Really,
with the right kind of training she would make a good scholar.

"Oh, you must be tired of standing," he said presently. "How thoughtless
of me. I have no little chairs, so I must hunt one up, but this will
have to do now. That will be more comfortable. Now we can go on."

She laughed at her own little blunders in a cheerful fashion, and made
haste to correct them. And then he found that she knew several of the
old Latin hymns by heart, as they had been favorites of the English
clergyman.

They were interrupted by a light tap at the door. He said "Come"; and
turned his head.

It was Miss Winn.

"Pardon me. We couldn't imagine where Cynthia was. Hasn't she been an
annoyance?"

"Oh, no; we have had a very nice time."

"But--had you not better come downstairs. Miss Eunice is sewing her
pretty patchwork again."

"Oh, let me stay," she pleaded. "Do I bother you?"

It crossed his mind just then that in the years to come more than one
man would yield to the sweet persuasiveness of those eyes.

"Yes, let her stay. She is no trouble. Indeed, we are studying."

Miss Winn was glad of his indorsement. Miss Elizabeth had been
"worrying" for the last ten minutes. She had crept softly up to the
garret, quite sure she should find the child in mischief. Then she had
glanced into the "best chamber," but there was no sign of her there.

"Very well," replied Miss Winn.

Cynthia drew a long breath presently.

"Oh, you are tired!" he exclaimed. "Run over to the window and tell me
how the sky looks. I think it doesn't rain now."

She slipped down, stood still for a moment, then turned and clapped her
hands, laughing deliciously.

"Oh, there is blue sky, and a great yellow streak. The clouds are trying
to hide the sun, but they can't. Oh, see, see!"

She danced up and down the room like a fairy in the long ray of sunshine
that illumined the apartment.

"Oh, are you not glad!" She turned such a joyous face to him that he
smiled and came over to the window that nearly faced the west.

"Better than the Latin?"

"Well--I like both;" archly.

He raised the window. A warm breath of delightful air rushed in, making
the room with the fire seem chilly by contrast. He drew in long
reviving breaths. Spring had truly come. To-morrow the swelling buds
would burst.

"We must have a little Latin every day. And o