ause you know we pet
and love you too much. If you cannot eat your dinner go play, and get an
appetite for to-morrow."

She kissed him, and as was her habit of compliance with his slightest
wish, left the room as he had desired her.

"Henry," said his wife, "there is something wrong with her."

For a time he could not speak; but after a deep silence he wiped away a
few straggling-tears, and replied:

"Yes! yes! do you not see that there is a mystery upon my child!--a
mystery which weighs down my heart with affliction."

"Dear papa," said Agnes, "don't forbode evil for her."

"It's a mere nervous affection," said William. "She ought to take more
exercise. Of late she has been too much within."

Maria and Agnes exchanged looks; and for the first time, a suspicion of
the probable cause flashed simultaneously across their minds. They sat
beside each other at dinner, and Maria said in a whisper:

"Agnes, you and I are thinking of the same thing."

"I am thinking of Jane," said her candid and affectionate sister.

"My opinion is," rejoined Maria, "that she is attached to Charles
Osborne."

"I suspect it is so," whispered Agnes. "Indeed from many things that
occur to me I am now certain of it."

"I don't see any particular harm in that," replied Maria.

"It may be a very unhappy attachment for Jane, though," said Agnes.
"Only think, Maria, if Osborne should not return her affection: I know
Jane,--she would sink under it."

"Not return her affection!" replied her sister. "Where would he find
another so beautiful, and every way so worthy of him?"

"Very true, Maria; and I trust in heaven he may think so. But how, if he
should never know or suspect her love for him?"

"I cannot answer that," said the other; "but we will talk more about it
by-and-by."

Whilst this dialogue went on in a low tone, the other members of the
family sat in silence and concern, each evidently anxious to develop the
mystery of Jane's recent excitement at dinner. At length the old man's
eye fell upon his two other daughters, and he said:

"What is this, children--what is this whispering all about? Perhaps some
of you can explain the conduct of that poor child."

"But, papa," said Agnes, "you are not to know all our secrets."

"Am I not, indeed, Aggy? That's pretty evident from the cautious tone in
which you and Mary speak."

"Well, but Agnes is right, Henry," said her mother: "to know the
daughters' secrets is my privilege--and yo