was still up and secretly anxious.

He sat down beside her, and told her where he had been and how it had
all ended. "I'm to consult my beautiful mother," said he, kissing her.

"What, does she think I am like my picture now?"

"I suppose so. And you are as beautiful as ever in my eyes, mother. And
I do consult you."

Mrs. Little's black eyes flashed; but she said, calmly,

"What about, dearest?"

"I really don't know. I suppose it was about what happened tonight.
Perhaps about it all."

Mrs. Little leaned her head upon her hand and thought.

After a moment's reflection, she said to Henry, rather coldly, "If she
is not a very good girl, she must be a very clever one."

"She is both," said Henry, warmly.

"Of that I shall be the best judge," said Mrs. Little, very coldly
indeed.

Poor Henry felt quite chilled. He said no more; nor did his mother
return to the subject till they parted for the night, and then it was
only to ask him what church Miss Carden went to--a question that seemed
to be rather frivolous, but he said he thought St. Margaret's.

Next Sunday evening, Mrs. Little and he being at tea together, she said
to him quietly--"Well, Harry, I have seen her."

"Oh mother! where?"

"At St. Margaret's Church."

"But how did you know her? By her beauty?"

Mrs. Little smiled, and took a roll of paper out of her muff, that lay
on the sofa. She unfolded it, and displayed a drawing. It represented
Grace Carden in her bonnet, and was a very good likeness.

The lover bounced on it, and devoured it with astonishment and delight.

"Taken from the bust, and retouched from nature," said Mrs. Little.
"Yes, dear, I went to St. Margaret's, and asked a pew-opener where she
sat. I placed myself where I could command her features; and you may be
sure, I read her very closely. Well, dear, she bears examination. It is
a bright face, a handsome face, and a good face; and almost as much in
love as you are."

"What makes you fancy that? Oh, you spoke to her?"

"Certainly not. But I observed her. Restless and listless by turns--her
body in one place, her mind in another. She was so taken up with her own
thoughts she could not follow the service. I saw the poor girl try very
hard several times, but at last she gave it up in despair. Sometimes
she knitted her brow and a young girl seldom does that unless she is
thwarted in her love. And I'll tell you a surer sign still: sometimes
tears came for no visible reason, and