e; indeed, it was the only thing that
ever seemed really to a "put her out." She was conscious to some
extent that a much deeper sympathy existed between Lucy and Miss
Eastwood than between Lucy and her, and she feared that if it
increased, her cousin's regard for her must necessarily diminish.

One bright, sunny October day, when the air was clear and bracing, and
the wind was tossing the red leaves that fell from the trees in the
squares, Lucy and Stella were on their way home from school, when they
heard at a slight distance the plaintive strains of a hand-organ,
carried by a meagre, careworn Italian, who seemed to be working his
instrument mechanically, while his eye had a fixed, sad, stedfast
gaze, unconscious, seemingly, of anything around him. Lucy was looking
compassionately at the dark, sorrowful face, and wondering what his
previous history might have been, when her eye was suddenly caught by
the familiar form and face of the girl who stood by with her
tambourine, singing a simple ditty, which somehow brought old days at
Ashleigh back to her mind. The figure she saw, though arrayed in
tattered garments, and the face, though sunburnt to a deep brown, were
not so much altered as to prevent almost instant recognition. Lucy
grasped Stella's arm, and exclaimed, "Why, it's Nelly!" and before the
astonished Stella comprehended her meaning, she hastily stepped
forward towards the tambourine-girl, who almost at the same moment
stopped singing and sprang forward, exclaiming, "Oh, it's Miss Lucy,
her own self!"

Both were quite unconscious, in their surprise, of the bystanders
around them; but Stella was by no means so insensible to the
situation, and was somewhat scandalized at being connected with such a
scene "in the street." She begged Lucy to ask Nelly to follow them
home, which was not far off, and then they could have any number of
explanations at leisure. Lucy at once assented, and asked Nelly if she
could be spared for a little while. With a happy face, flushed with
her surprise and delight, Nelly went up to the organ-grinder and said
a few words, at which he smiled and nodded. She then followed her
friends home at a respectful distance, while the man went on his way
from house to house.

Nelly's explanation of her present odd circumstances was very simple,
and, on the whole, satisfactory. In the hot July weather, when she
felt her overtasked strength failing, and could scarcely manage to
drag herself about