ss of manner otherwise.

"Certainly not," I replied.

So they remained, and Lu began to open a bundle of Border Ballads, which
he had brought her. The very first one was "Whistle an' I'll come to
you, my lad." I laughed. She glanced up quickly, then held it in her
hands a moment, repeated the name, and asked if he liked it.

"Oh, yes," he said. "There couldn't be a Scotch song without that rhythm
better than melody, which, after all, is Beethoven's secret."

"Perhaps," said Louise. "But I shall not sing this."

"Oh, do!" he said, turning with surprise. "You don't know what an
aerial, whistling little thing it is!"

"No."

"Why, Louise! There is nobody could sing it but you."

"Of good discourse, an excellent musician, and her hair shall be of what
color it please God," quoted I, and in came Mr. Dudley, as he usually
did when not wanted; though I've no reason to find fault with him,
notwithstanding his blank treatment of me. He never took any notice,
because he was in love with Lu. Rose never took any notice of me,
either. But with a difference!

Lu was singularly condescending to Mr. Dudley that evening; and Rose,
sitting aside, looked so very much disturbed--whether pleasantly or
otherwise didn't occur to me--that I couldn't help enjoying his
discomfiture, and watching him through it.

Now, though I told you I wasn't nervous, I never should know I had this
luxurious calm, if there were nothing to measure it by; and once in a
great while a perfect whirlpool seizes me,--my blood is all in
turmoil,--I bubble with silent laughter, or cry with all my heart. I had
been in such a strange state a good while, and now, as I surveyed Rose,
it gradually grew fiercer, till I actually sprang to my feet, and
exclaimed, "There! it is insupportable! I've been in the magnetic storm
long enough! it is time something took it from me!" and ran out-doors.

Rose sauntered after, by-and-by, as if unwillingly drawn by a loadstone,
and found the heavens wrapped in a rosy flame of Northern Lights. He
looked as though he belonged to them, so pale and elf-like was his face
then, like one bewitched.

"Papa's fireworks fade before mine," I said. "Now we can live in the
woods, as Lu has been wishing; for a dry southerly wind follows this,
with a blue smoke filming all the distant fields. Won't it be
delicious?"

"Or rain," he replied; "I think it will rain to-morrow,--warm, full
rains"; and he seemed as if such a chance would dissolve