rd Miss Hart would not present
herself. She had a curious reserve about her, which everyone noticed at
the time, and commented on largely by-and-bye. If the all-absorbing
topic of the day, Beatrice's wedding, was discussed, she invariably grew
grave, her face would become a shade paler than its wont, and her
bright, restless eyes would be lowered.

Except on one occasion, she never asked questions about the approaching
wedding. On the contrary, she markedly avoided the subject. Once,
however, she inquired the date of the wedding from Matty. On hearing it
she turned very pale, and left the room. Matty remembered this fact
by-and-bye.

Once, too, Sophy saw her standing in her bedroom with her two hands
pressed tightly to her side, as though something had given her an
intense pain there. She was close to the window, and must have been
looking out, and Sophy observed that Captain Bertram and Beatrice were
walking down the street together.

Notwithstanding all Mrs. Bell's coaxings, Miss Hart would never go out
during the day-time, but when darkness fell, and it came early now, in
the beginning of September, she would wrap her gray cloak about her, and
go away for long, long walks all alone.

Mrs. Bell thought this proceeding anything but proper, but Josephine
Hart minded very little what any one thought about her.

As the days wore on, her white face seemed to grow whiter, and her big
bright eyes often looked pathetic as well as bright. She ate very
little, too, and scarcely spoke at all; but it never occurred to her or
any one else to suppose that she was ill.

The weather during all this period continued very fine. Never had so
glorious a summer been remembered at Northbury, and the good folk said
it was a lucky omen for the young bride, who was a favorite with rich
and poor alike. Every one in Northbury made Beatrice a present, and she
began to collect quite a curious collection of gifts. None of these
presents were splendid, few of them possessed intrinsic value, but the
young girl treasured them, one and all, very much; for they were to her
symbols of the love which had shone about her path from her birth.

Mrs. Bertram could not understand the joy Beatrice felt over the crude
gifts of the fishermen's wives, nor her ecstasy when a poor girl whom
she had once befriended, brought her a dozen yards of narrow and very
dirty crotchet edging. Beatrice almost kissed that edging, and her eyes
filled with tears as she fo