ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 95

you do her wrong; Helen has a great deal of
feeling.” i

‘‘ For herself,” he answered tersely, “I dare
say she has.”

‘I did not think you could be so unjust and
ungenerous,” replied Rose ; “ but you are out
of sorts to-night, and will be sorry before morn-
ing. You were always hasty, Edward. Good-
night—good-bye.”

“‘ Good-bye, then, Rose—good-bye;” and
without taking her hand, without one kind
word, one sign of love, Edward Lynne rushed
through the garden gate and disappeared.

Rose entered the little parlour, which of late
had been well cared for. The old sofa, though
as stiff and hard as ever, triumphed in green
and yellow; and two cushions, with large yel-
low tassels, graced the ends, and a huge square
ottoman, which every country visiter invariably
tumbled over, stood exactly in front of the old
seat. Upon this Rose flung herself, and, cov-
ering her face with her hands, bent down her
head upon the stately seat. Her sobs were-not
loud but deep; and as she was dealing with
feelings, and not with time, she had no idea
how long she had remained in that state, until
aroused by a voice, whose-every tone sent the
blood throbbing and tingling through her veins,

‘** Rose—dear Rose!”

Blushing—trembling—ashamed of an emo-
tion she had not the power to control—Rose

MM