for
poetry and no reverence for antiquity. "Young man, it was the dried
'yarbs' she keeps in her closet that you smelled. Besides, antiquity has
no other odor than that of mold and must."

Alden blushed, laughed and looked at Emma Cavendish.

"You must not mind my cousin Electra, Mr. Lytton. She is a privileged
person among us. By the way, Laura has told you, I presume, of our
relationship," said Emma, pleasantly.

"Oh, yes!" returned young Lytton, with a smile and a bow. "And I am
happy to have this opportunity of congratulating you both."

"Thanks," said Miss Cavendish, with a vivid blush.

"I believe there was some talk about a picnic party to the top of
Porcupine Mountain, was there not?" inquired Electra, to cut short all
sentiment.

"Yes, my dear, and the horses are ordered for eleven o'clock. It is
half-past ten now, and we will go and put on our hats and habits,"
replied Miss Cavendish, playfully rising and breaking up the conference.

The party of young friends remained one week longer at Blue Cliffs,
every day deepening and confirming the admiration and respect with which
the beauty and the excellence of Emma Cavendish inspired Alden Lytton.
But yet he was not in love with her.

Every morning was spent by the young people in riding or driving about
through the sublime and beautiful mountain and valley scenery of the
neighborhood.

And every evening was passed in fancy work, music, reading or
conversation in the drawing-room.

And so the pleasant days of the Easter holidays passed away, and the
time for study and for work commenced.

Laura and Electra went away from Blue Cliffs on the same day--Laura
escorted by her brother Alden, and Electra by her grandfather, the Rev.
Dr. Jones.

As the party were assembled in the front hall to take leave of their
fair young hostess before entering the large traveling carriage that
was to take them to the Wendover railway station, Emma Cavendish went up
to Alden Lytton and placed a letter in his hand, saying, with a frank
smile:

"As you are going direct to Charlottesville, Mr. Lytton, I will trouble
you to take charge of this letter to our mutual friend, Mrs. Grey, who,
you know, is now staying in that town. Will you do so?"

"Certainly--with great pleasure," stammered Alden in extreme confusion,
which he could scarcely conceal, and without the slightest consciousness
that he was telling an enormous falsehood, but with full assurance that
he should like