marriage as a parting. Talk to
them of your new home, and the happy times they will have in visiting
you," said Mrs. Force.

Miss Meeke smiled and blushed, and said:

"I was to go to-morrow to inspect a new house in the village that the
doctor was thinking of taking, if I should like it. Perhaps the children
might go with me. Shall I ask them?"

"Certainly. They would be delighted. It will be a good opportunity also in
which to break the news to them. And, without doubt, they will be very
prompt in giving their valuable counsel on the subject. But tell me, my
dear, when is this happy event to come off?"

"Early in January. That is to say, if, in the meantime, you can suit
yourself with another governess, for I should not think of leaving you
until you had supplied my place."

"I should not think of supplying your place with a new governess, my dear.
Indeed, I have other plans. I have been thinking of going to Washington to
spend the winter. If you were to remain with us, I should take you; but,
as you are to be married, I shall, instead of engaging a private
governess, place my children at some good finishing school---- Well----?
Who is there?" suddenly demanded the lady, as a loud rap sounded on the
room door.

"Why, it's me! Who should it be?" said the voice of Mrs. Anglesea, as that
jovial lady burst into the room, exclaiming: "I was moped all but to
death, all alone by my own self in the big parlor ever since breakfast. As
well been at Wild Cats'!"

"Oh, come in, Mrs. Anglesea. I do, indeed, owe you an apology. I hope you
will excuse me, but--I have been particularly engaged all the forenoon,"
said the mistress of Mondreer, as she arose and placed a chair for her
guest.

"Thanky'! I hope I haven't interrupted you?" said the lady from the gold
mines, dropping into the seat.

"Oh, no. We are quite at leisure now," replied Mrs. Force.

"I wouldn't have disturbed you by coming here, only I declare to man, I
have been in every room in the house looking for some one to talk to,
without finding a soul. And I even went into the kitchen, to talk to the
cook, but she was out, and there wasn't a soul there, though the pot was
b'ilin' over, and the goose was burning in the roaster. So I sat down on a
stool on the hearth, and basted the goose and turned it, and much thanks I
got for my pains. For presently, when the cook come back with a passel of
cold mince pies to be put in the oven and warmed--she had been to the