ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 77

* Found!” interrupted a well-known voice ;
and at the same moment Edward Lynne shook
a shower of perfumed hawthorn blossoms from
the scattered hedge whieh he struggled through;
and repeating ‘ Found!” in his full echoing
voice, stood panting before the startled girls.
“T have had such a hunt!” he exclaimed joy-
fully—* such a hunt for you, Helen! I have
been over Woodland brook, and up as far as
Fairmil], where you said you would be—oh,
you truant! And I doubt if I should have
caught you at last, but for poor Dash”—and
the sagacious dog sprung about, as if conscious
that he deserved a large portion of the praise.
Rose was astonished at the perfect self-posses-
sion with which, after the first flush of surprise,
Helen received her lover. Nor was poor Rose
unconscious that she herself occupied no por-
tion of his attention beyond the glance of re-.
cognition which he cast while throwing himself
on the sward at Helen’s feet.

‘We must go home,” said the triumphant
beauty, after hearing a few of those half-whis-
pered nothings which are considered of such
importance in a lover’s calendar; ‘ the dew is
falling, and I may catch cold.”’

“The dew falling!” repeated Edward.—
“Why, look, the sky is still golden from the
sun’s rays; do not—do not, dearest Helen, go
home yet. Besides,” he added, * your grand-
mother has plenty of employment; there is