ier than Nancy, so much stouter and stronger,
that you can bear exposure to damp and even wet pavements, in thin
shoes, while she will not venture out unless with feet well protected by
leather boots?"

"My shoes are not thin, uncle," persisted Lizzy. "They have thick
soles."

"Not thin! Thick soles! Look at mine."

Lizzy laughed aloud, as she glanced down at her uncle's heavy boots, at
the thought of having her delicate feet encased in leather.

"Look at mine!" repeated Uncle Thomas. "And am I so much more delicate
than you are?"

But Miss Walton replied to all this serious remonstrance of her uncle
(who was on a visit from a neighbouring town) with laughing evasion.

A week of very severe weather had filled the gutters and blocked the
crossings with ice. To this had succeeded rain, but not of long enough
continuance to free the streets from their icy encumbrance. A clear,
warm day for the season followed; and it was on this day that Miss
Walton and her uncle went out for the purpose of calling on a friend or
two, and then visiting the Art-Union Gallery.

Uncle Thomas Walton was the brother of Lizzy's father. The latter died
some few years before, of pulmonary consumption. Lizzy, both in
appearance and bodily constitution, resembled her father. She was now in
her nineteenth year, her veins full of young life, and her spirits as
buoyant as the opening spring. It was just four years since the last
visit of Uncle Thomas to the city--four years since he had looked upon
the fair face of his beautiful niece. Greatly had she changed in that
time. When last he kissed her blushing cheek, she was a half-grown
school-girl--now she burst upon him a lovely and accomplished young
woman.

But Uncle Thomas did not fail to observe in his niece certain signs,
that he understood too well as indications of a frail and susceptible
constitution. Two lovely sisters, who had grown up by his side, their
charms expanding like summer's sweetest flowers, had, all at once,
drooped, faded, withered, and died. Long years had they been at rest;
but their memory was still green in his heart. When he looked upon the
pure face of his niece, it seemed to Uncle Thomas as if a long-lost
sister were restored to him in the freshness and beauty of her young and
happy life ere the breath of the destroyer was upon her. No wonder that
he felt concern when he thought of the past. No wonder that he made
remonstrance against her exposure, in thin shoes, t