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But this time he answered,' No my dear; cousin Lomax takes no interest in little girls. To-morrow morning after breakfast will be time enough for you." "Oh! "Mary, it is too cold for you," said our father's wife. Don't keep the pony waiting," said my indulgent father. Bruin, the pony, had been bought during the last months of our poor mother's life-time. We sat together in the back seat of the pony carriage, close swaddled in the heavy folds of a military cloak of our father's. 11 My head was pressed against my brother, and his arm was round me.
If you wrap yourself up warm, and are a good boy, I will take you." "Oh! His courtesy to the sex extended itself even to a female child, and I often made use of his feelings upon this point to obtain little advantages over my brother. "I want to go vwith you," plead strongly in my favor. Max by a family arrangement of long standing was old cousin Lomax' heir. Lomax had vested rights in him; was consulted upon all his educational arrangements; and I-poor little Mary Mandeville, my father loved me better because I would have no inheritance except such dower as he could economize from his pay as an English Officer. I am going to keep close to papa." "Tell Nurse to get you ready then. "Make haste then Molly." I made great haste, and in a few moments Max and I, wrapped snugly from the dews of night, were sitting in the back seat of the four-wheeled pony carriage. Max said it was longer than his own, for he had measured some.
tion, striking the smith upon his brawny arms and face as well as on his leathern apron.
As we drove along a miserable alley in the marine suburb of the county town near where we lived,-foul and unwholesome with decaying garbage, bordered by sailors' eating-houses and slop-shops with strange scarecrow garments flying idly in the wind —these forms and the dark figures that passed by us, half illuminated by the lamps of our little carriage, seemed like unearthly shapes-like night-mare visions which disturb our rest when the "terror walketh in darkness," and the veiled figure of Calamity which the imagination shapes from real events, stalks in the dim illimitable future.
Children who live nearer the Ideal world than we have frequent glimpses down many an abyss of mystery.
I am glad to remember that we played daily in the fields and stables with the groom and the gardener, exchanged greetings and claimed sympathies with the children at the lodge of the great Park, tumbled over in the hay amongst the haymakers, gleaned amongst the gleaners, and gave them what we gathered, and rode on the harvest wain, with wheat garlands round our hats, receiving homage from the harvest-men.
Our father was not willing we should be taught to isolate ourselves from human sympathy, under pretence of station.
We loved our nurse so dearly, we OUR COUSIN VEi RONICA.