Cousin Rowland and dear Lily were mutually pleased with each other, it was very evident to me, though Ada and Mary failed to see it; for, in the presence of the young ladies, Rowland did not show her those little delicate attentions which, alone with me, who was very unobservant, he took no pains to conceal; and Lily did not hide from me her blushing face—­her eyes only thanked me for the expression which met her gaze.

That November day—­I dread to approach it!  Lily and I were sitting beside each other, looking down the street, and watching the return of the carriage which Rowland had gone out with to bring Ada and Mary to our house; or, rather, Lily was looking for its coming—­my eyes were resting on her face.  It had never looked so beautiful to me before.  Her brow was so purely white, her cheek was so deeply red, and that dark eye was so lustrous; but her face was very thin, and her breathing, I observed, was faint and difficult.  A pang shot through my heart.

“Lily, are you well?” I exclaimed, suddenly.

She fixed her eyes on mine.  I was too much excited by my sudden fear to read their expression, but when our friends came in, the dear girl seemed so cheerful and happy—­I remembered, afterwards, I had never seen her so gay as on that afternoon—­that my suspicions gradually left me.

The hours were passing pleasantly away, when a letter was brought in for Lily.  It was from her father, and the young lady retired to peruse it.  The eye of Rowland followed her as she passed out of the room, and I observed a shadow flit across his brow.  I afterwards learned that at the moment a thought was passing through his mind similar to that which had so terrified me an hour before.  Our visiters remarked it, too, but little suspected its cause; and Mary’s eye met, with a most roguish look, Ada’s rather inquiring gaze.

“When does Lily intend to return home, S——?” she inquired, as she bent, very demurely, over her embroidery.  “I thought she was making preparations to go before Rowland came here!” and she raised her eyes so cunningly to my face, that I could not forbear answering,

“I hear nothing of her return, now.  Perhaps she will remain with us during the winter.”

“Indeed!” exclaimed Ada, and her voice expressed much surprise.  “I wonder if I could make such a prolonged visit interesting to a friend!”

“Why, Lily considers herself conferring a great favour by remaining here,” replied Mary.

“On whom?” asked Rowland, quickly.

“On all of use of course;” and to Mary’s great delight she perceived that her meaning words had the effect she desired on the young man.

“I hope she will not neglect the duty she owes her family, for the sake of showing us this great kindness,” said Rowland, with affected carelessness, though he walked across the apartment with a very impatient step.

“Lily has not again been guilty of the error she so frequently commits, has she, S——?” asked Ada, in a lower but still far too distinct tone; “that of supposing herself loved and admired where she is only pitied and endured?” and the merry creature fairly exulted in the annoyance which his deepened colour told her she was causing the young man.