nd bating other reasons,
I think she would have been disappointed on her own account, you know,
to have the first child a girl. But, besides this, I have heard that Mr.
Benjamin Elwyn quite forgave Mr. Harry, and promised him that if his
oldest child was a boy, and he named it after him, he would leave him
the bulk of his property. I cannot tell you how bitterly disappointed
my young mistress was, when her first born proved to be a girl. She was
but sixteen years old then, you know, Bridget, and she acted like a
cross, spoiled baby. She cried herself into a fever, and she wouldn't
let the poor, helpless baby, come into her sight. I think she never
loved her; and from the time of Master Lewie's birth, she has seemed to
dislike her more and more."

"But how the father loved her, Mrs. McCrae!"

"Aye, indeed he did; he never could be easy a minute without her. It was
a sore day for my poor bairn, when it pleased God to take her father;
poor man! But He knows best, Bridget, and He orders all things right."

Here Mammy was summoned by the bell, and despatched to bring little
Agnes down; to accompany her aunt and cousins to their home.

As Agnes was riding along, seated so comfortably by the side of her kind
aunt, in the large covered sleigh, with the rosy, smiling faces of her
little cousins, Grace and Effie, opposite her, she could scarcely
believe that she was the same little girl, who, but an hour or two
before, was walking so sadly up and down the desolate North Room, and
trying to persuade herself that she was "not alone." Agnes was naturally
of a lively, cheerful disposition, and like any other little girl of six
years of age, she soon forgot past sorrow in present pleasure, though,
at times, the sudden remembrance of her dear little baby brother, lying
so ill at home, would cause a sigh to chase away the smile of pleasure
beaming on her lovely face.

It was but little more than two miles from "The Hemlocks," Mrs. Elwyn's
residence, to "Brook Farm," the home of the Wharton's, and, as Matthew
had received orders to drive very rapidly, it seemed to Agnes that her
ride was just begun, when they turned into the lane that led up to her
Uncle Wharton's house. And now the pillars of the piazza appear between
the trees, and now the breakfast room windows, and more bright young
faces are looking out, and little chubby hands are clapped together, as
the sleigh is discovered coming rapidly up the lane, and the cry
resounds th