arty evidently advanced nearer to them, and carolled in very
beautiful tones, the song of Ariel:--

"Where the bee sucks, there lurk I,
In the cowslip's bell I lie," etcetera.

"Heigho!" exclaimed a soft voice, after the song had been finished; "I
wish I could creep into a cowslip-bell. Miss Araminta, you are not
coming down the walk yet; it appears you are in no hurry, so I'll begin
my new book."

After this soliloquy there was silence. Spikeman made a sign to Joey to
remain still, and then, creeping on his hands and knees, by degrees
arrived as far as he could venture to the other side of the copse.

In a minute or two another footstep was heard coming down the
gravel-walk, and soon afterwards another voice.

"Well, Melissa, did you think I never would come? I could not help it.
Uncle would have me rub his foot a little."

"Ay, there's the rub," replied the first young lady. "Well, it was a
sacrifice of friendship at the altar of humanity. Poor papa! I wish I
could rub his foot for him; but I always do it to a quadrille tune, and
he always says I rub it too hard. I only follow the music."

"Yes, and so does he; for you sometimes set him a dancing, you giddy
girl."

"I am not fit for a nurse, and that's the fact, Araminta. I can feel
for him, but I cannot sit still a minute; that you know. Poor mamma was
a great loss; and, when she died, I don't know what I should have done,
if it hadn't been for my dear cousin Araminta."

"Nay, you are very useful in your way, for you play and sing to him, and
that soothes him."

"Yes, I do it with pleasure, for I can do but little else; but,
Araminta, my singing is that of the caged bird. I must sing where they
hang my cage. Oh, how I wish I had been a man!"

"I believe that there never was a woman yet who has not, at one time of
her life, said the same thing, however mild and quiet she may have been
in disposition. But, as we cannot, why--"

"Why, the next thing is to wish to be a man's wife, Araminta--is it
not?"

"It is natural, I suppose, to wish so," replied Araminta; "but I seldom
think about it. I must first see the man I can love before I think
about marrying."

"And now tell me, Araminta, what kind of a man do you think you could
fancy?"

"I should like him to be steady, generous, brave, and handsome; of
unexceptionable family, with plenty of money; that's all."

"Oh, that's all! I admire your `that's all.' You are not very likely
to