TURNS OF FORTUNE. 43

remove her to acottage-lodging from the tur-
moil of the town. No one distinctly knew, ex-
cept Mabel, why Sarah Bond was so attached
to the old furniture, and few cared. And yet
more than one kind heart remembered how she
had liked the “‘ rubbishing things,” and bought
in several, resolved that, if she recovered, and
ever had “a place of her own again,” they
would offer them for her acceptance. Her ill-
ness was so tedious, that except the humble cu-
rate and the good rector, her inquirers had fall-
en off—for long sickness wears out friends.
Some would pause as they passed the cottage
window, where the closely-pinned down curtain
told of the caution and quiet of sickness; and
then they would wonder how poor Miss Bond
was; and if they entered the little passage to
inquire, they could scarcely recognise in the
plainly-dressed, jaded, bent girl, whose eyes
knew no change but from weeping to watching,
and watching to weeping, the buoyant and beau-
—tiful heiress whose words were law, and who
once revelled in luxury. The produce of the
sale—though everything, of course, went below
its value—left a small surplus, after all debts
and expenses were paid ; which the clergyman
husbanded judiciously, and gave in small por-
tions to Mabel. Alfred Bond himself called te
offer any assistance that might be required,
which Mabel declined, coldly and at once.
Patiently and devotedly did she watch beside