room, and occasionally to her husband, although the latter was too much engrossed with his paper to enter much into her remarks.

Her daughters, two tall, slight girls of twenty and twenty-two, were much like herself, especially Augusta, the elder and handsomer of the two. Her figure was tall and graceful, and there was a contemptuous expression in the curl of her lip, and in her dark eye which was more majestic than pleasing. Her glossy, black hair was arranged in the form of a coronet round her head, and there was something almost queen-like in her movements, but it was pleasant to turn to Mary's softer and more amiable countenance, although she possessed no just pretensions to beauty. Her hair lighter, and her features less regular than Augusta's, and her complexion less clear and brilliant, but she was equally graceful, and equally self-possessed, and owing to her less commanding, and more soft and gentle appearance she was generally a greater favourite.

was

"How late Evelyn is," said Mrs. Falconer, closing her book, and looking at her watch. "Five minutes after seven, we must not wait beyond the quarter. Dinner will be quite spoilt!"

"Did she mention any particular time, mamma ?" asked Mary, laying down the last song, and walking to the fireplace.

"She said the twenty minutes past five train, my love, and it is only ten miles from Crayford to Everley."

"I wonder whether she will be much altered," said Augusta. "It seems an age since she went What a pretty little thing she used to

away. be!"

"And is still, I should think," remarked Mrs. Falconer. "Your papa was much pleased with her appearance when he went to Redbourn the sum

mer before last, and last summer your Aunt Layton wrote me that she was far prettier than when she first went to Miss Templeman's, and her figure one of the slightest and most symmetrical she had ever seen."

Augusta's eyes wandered to the tall, graceful form in the pier glass opposite her.

"Will she go to the Kynastons' with us on the 17th, mamma ?"

"Well, my love, she shall please herself; but I should not fancy her dancing master can have been anything very superior at a small town like Redbourn. It may be necessary for her to take a few lessons first."

"I do not suppose Evelyn ever went to a ball in her life," remarked Augusta.

"Aunt Layton gives dances sometimes," replied her sister. "I am sure Evelyn mentioned having been to some there."

"Yes, parties of thirty or forty, with a sit-down tea, and supper at nine," replied Augusta, "but that is a very different thing from a ball such as the Kynastons' will be."

"Harriet Kynaston told me this morning that they had issued three hundred and eighty invitations," observed Mary.

"I daresay there will be three hundred people there," remarked Mrs. Falconer. "Mr. Kynaston spares no expense, and the rooms are so large and so well arranged that every one will wish to go."

"It is five months since we gave a dance, mamma," said Mary. "You ought to give one now in honour of Evelyn's return."

"Really, my love, they are so much trouble, and upset the house so completely. I have no objection to dinner parties or musical soirées, but a dance is such a different thing."

"Well then, let us have a musical soirée," said

Augusta, "and we can invite people at the Kynastons' on the 17th. When shall it be? Shall we say the 29th ?”

"The 29th," repeated Mrs. Falconer, musingly, "well, I don't see any objection."

"And there will be a great many people to sing and play," said Mary. "It will be sure to go off

well."

"Only, my love, you must practise," observed Mrs. Falconer. "I was quite nervous when you were playing Thalberg the other night, I heard several false notes."

"The piano was so stiff," said Mary. "It

wouldn't be so on our own.'

"And we have so much new music just now," added Augusta, "but as mamma says, Mary, we must practise well. There are several pieces by Mendelssohn that I should very much wish to play that night."

"Hark! I hear wheels," said Mary, listening. "Yes! and there is the bell."

Mary walked to the door, and Mr. Falconer laid down his newspaper and asked whether Evelyn was

come.

"I think it must be Dr. James," replied Mrs. Falconer. "He said he should come and see how I was either to-night or to-morrow morning. I am afraid this tic-douloureux is returning again, so I called there to consult him this morning when we were in Wortley."

"No; I hear Evelyn's voice!" exclaimed Mary, opening the door.

In an instant Evelyn was in her sisters' arms, and the warmth and affection with which she was greeted, satisfied even her warm, loving nature. Her sisters' rapid eager kisses, Mrs. Falconer's more motherly embrace, and Mr. Falconer's expressions of genuine pleasure at having his little

Evelyn at home again, realized even her most hopeful visions of the happiness of that meeting, after the long, long separation.

There was so much to be said on all sides, that no one knew where to begin, and the satisfaction that all felt was chiefly vented in broken sentences, 'My dearest Evy, it is so nice to have you again!" "I am so glad to be home. It is so happy!" and Evelyn gazed at the faces she had not seen for so long, and tried to recall the old familiar features, while they could scarcely take their eyes from the bright, gentle face, and soft brown eyes, grown so much sweeter and more winning since last they had seen it.

"You are very cold, my dearest child," said Mrs. Falconer at last, gazing on her as she stood very pale and with swimming eyes, submitting to be disrobed of superfluous shawls and boas by Augusta and Mary.

"Yes, very cold, mamma, but so happy to be at home again and with you all."

"How you are grown, Evy!" said Mary, comparing height with her in the glass. "Why you are taller than I am, and four years younger too!"

"Yes, you are very much altered, my love," said Mrs. Falconer as she looked at the blushing face and slight girlish figure before her.

"Well! I don't think Evelyn so much altered as I expected to see her," said Mr. Falconer, kissing her again, and patting her on the shoulder. "Taller and more womanly of course, but the face is the same; I should have known it anywhere, especially now that our criticisms have brought a little colour into her cheeks."

"That is cruel, papa!" exclaimed Augusta. "Come, Evy, and hide your red cheeks upstairs, and prepare for dinner, which has been spoiling these last twenty minutes!"

"Oh! I am so sorry!" replied Evelyn. "The train was late; but if dinner is really ready and you will dispense with my toilet, I won't keep it waiting any longer, but go in just as I am."

"I think that will be the best way," said Mrs. Falconer, ringing the bell, "if you are sure you don't mind, love."

"Oh! no," said Evelyn, hastily arranging her dress, and giving a discomfited glance at her sisters' elegant evening dresses. Those glacé silks seemed to come between her and them in some mysterious way, and she thought with affection of Georgina's brown merino gown and plain muslin collar. "How glad you must be to leave school, Evy,” remarked Mary. 66 Weren't you enchanted when

the day came ?"

Evelyn thought of the sorrowful tears she had shed at parting with Georgy that morning, and replied, "I have been very happy there; I like Miss Templeman very much indeed, and Í had several friends there, one especially, whom I loved dearly." 66 Oh! yes, the one you used to mention, Miss Berkeley wasn't she called ? a clergyman's daughter I think you said."

"Yes, her father is Rector of Lynwood; she leaves the day after to-morrow. I wish you knew her, you would like her so much."

"Did

you see your Aunt Layton before leaving, my love," asked Mrs. Falconer.

"Yes, dear mamma, yesterday afternoon I sat with her for a long while. She sent you all her love, and told me to thank you for your letter." "How was she?" inquired Mr. Falconer.

"Not very well, dear papa, she has been suffering from rheumatism for some time, and yesterday her arm was very painful."

The announcement of dinner made a break in the conversation. Evelyn followed her sisters into