“Unfortunately, angels never appear in the form of a lady, Elliot; so you must tax your ingenuity to dispose of me in a different manner,” said Mary, smiling gently on the noble boy beside her.

“Indeed, I would sooner think you ought to be an angel than any gentleman I know, or lady either; don’t you think so too, Uncle Frank?”

“Certainly I do; but, Elliot, you should not have made me say so in Miss Florence’s presence.  You forget that she is also a young lady.”

“No, I don’t, uncle, and I ask her pardon if I was rude; but I heard you say Miss Mary was an angel, and though I like Miss Florence very much indeed, I can’t help thinking so too.”

Dr. Bryant’s cheek flushed, and he glanced quickly at Mary.  Mr. and Mrs. Carlton and Florence laughed good-naturedly; and laying his hand on the boy’s head, Frank said: 

“My very promising nephew, you will never be accused of want of candor if you grow up in your present spirit.”

Mary drew the child to her, and whispered in his ear: 

“Your uncle meant that I should soon be in Heaven, Elliot; and I hope it will not be very long before I am an angel.  Don’t you see how thin and pale I am?”

Elliot’s eyes filled, as he looked earnestly at the gentle girl, so wasted of late, and throwing his arms about her neck, he hid his face on her shoulder, and murmured: 

“Oh! you must not go from us—­we can’t spare you even to God!  Why does he want to take you?  He has plenty of angels already around him!  Mother and uncle and I had almost as soon die ourselves as see you go away forever.”

None heard what passed between them; but Mrs. Carlton saw a look of pain on Mary’s pure white brow, and gently drawing her son away, changed the conversation by asking if it would not be better for Mary to ride awhile in the wagon.

“I am afraid she would find the jolting rather too much for her.  However, it will answer as a change, and by driving myself, I can avoid many inequalities.  So, Miss Irving, make up your mind to relinquish your babicca at least for to-day.”

“You are very kind, Dr. Bryant, but I greatly prefer your riding as usual.  Indeed you need not look so incredulous.  I won’t allow you to make such a sacrifice.”

“I was not aware that I was making any sacrifice,” he coldly answered, and turned away.

Mary’s lip quivered with internal pain, but she offered no further opposition.

All was in readiness for moving on.  Dr. Bryant stood arranging Florence’s bridle, and bantering her on her inattention to the reins.  She laughed in her turn.

“Indeed, Doctor, don’t you think me a capital horse-woman? you will certainly admit it, after being vanquished in a race?”

“Really, Miss Florence, I rather think the credit due to your fine horse than to your skill as a rider.

“Ah, incorrigible as usual, I see, Doctor!” and she rode off to join Mr. Carlton.