she quite subjugated the hearts of Bell and his son, Albert.  But when visitors appeared at the hospitable board Miss Hart would not present herself.  She had a curious reserve about her, which everyone noticed at the time, and commented on largely by-and-bye.  If the all-absorbing topic of the day, Beatrice’s wedding, was discussed, she invariably grew grave, her face would become a shade paler than its wont, and her bright, restless eyes would be lowered.

Except on one occasion, she never asked questions about the approaching wedding.  On the contrary, she markedly avoided the subject.  Once, however, she inquired the date of the wedding from Matty.  On hearing it she turned very pale, and left the room.  Matty remembered this fact by-and-bye.

Once, too, Sophy saw her standing in her bedroom with her two hands pressed tightly to her side, as though something had given her an intense pain there.  She was close to the window, and must have been looking out, and Sophy observed that Captain Bertram and Beatrice were walking down the street together.

Notwithstanding all Mrs. Bell’s coaxings, Miss Hart would never go out during the day-time, but when darkness fell, and it came early now, in the beginning of September, she would wrap her gray cloak about her, and go away for long, long walks all alone.

Mrs. Bell thought this proceeding anything but proper, but Josephine Hart minded very little what any one thought about her.

As the days wore on, her white face seemed to grow whiter, and her big bright eyes often looked pathetic as well as bright.  She ate very little, too, and scarcely spoke at all; but it never occurred to her or any one else to suppose that she was ill.

The weather during all this period continued very fine.  Never had so glorious a summer been remembered at Northbury, and the good folk said it was a lucky omen for the young bride, who was a favorite with rich and poor alike.  Every one in Northbury made Beatrice a present, and she began to collect quite a curious collection of gifts.  None of these presents were splendid, few of them possessed intrinsic value, but the young girl treasured them, one and all, very much; for they were to her symbols of the love which had shone about her path from her birth.

Mrs. Bertram could not understand the joy Beatrice felt over the crude gifts of the fishermen’s wives, nor her ecstasy when a poor girl whom she had once befriended, brought her a dozen yards of narrow and very dirty crotchet edging.  Beatrice almost kissed that edging, and her eyes filled with tears as she folded it up and put it away.

No such soft radiance came to them when her future mother-in-law presented her with a beautiful diamond cross, which was an old family heirloom, and must belong by right to Bertram’s wife.

“This is of great value,” Mrs. Bertram said; “and it will suit you, my dear, you are the sort of girl who can wear diamonds, and look well in them.”