Isabel Leicester. Maude Alma

much in awe of him, as he could be awefully grave."

      Peter immediately offered his services, unless he was too stern and sedate. This caused a laugh, as Peter was renowned for fun.

      The place chosen for the pic-nic was a delightful spot, (quite romantic Emily declared) situated at the bottom of a beautiful ravine, within a short distance of a splendid water fall yclept the "old roar," the dashing spray of its gurgling waters making quite refreshing music.

      "Now Emily, you are queen to-day, and all that you say is law," cried the laughing Lucy, when they arrived at their destination. "Now master Bob, be on your P's and Q's, and find a nice place to spread the royal feast."

      "I think that you are making yourself queen on this occasion and no mistake," returned the saucy Bob.

      "Well, I am prime minister you know, so make haste and obey my commands."

      "Self constituted I fancy," returned Bob with a shrug.

       "May I ask what important office is to be assigned me on this festive occasion," asked Peter.

      "That of queen's jester, of course," replied Lucy gravely.

      "You do me too much honor Miss Lucy," he said, bowing with mock humility.

      "I'm quite aware of that," answered Lucy demurely.

      A desirable place was soon found in a shady nook, and the repast was spread, to which it is almost needless to add they all did ample justice.

      Just as they sat down, Arthur made his appearance, bringing Louisa Aubray with him. If a look could have done it Lady Ashton would have annihilated him, so fearfully angry was she at his daring to bring her grand daughter in this manner, upon his own responsibility.

      "I found Louisa very disconsolate and unhappy, and I thought a little recreation would be good for her, Aunty. I feel sure that Mrs. Arlington will excuse the liberty I have taken," he added with a smile and bow.

      "Pray don't mention it, replied Mrs. Arlington thus appealed to, I am only too happy to have Miss Aubray join us. Alice my dear, make room for Miss Aubray."

      Louisa sat with her large mournful eyes cast down, tho' occasionally she threw furtive glances at her grandmother's darkened countenance, and seemed to be doing anything but enjoying herself. And no wonder poor child, for she was sure of a terrible scolding sooner or later. Arthur paid attention to the ladies generally, with whom he was a great favorite.

      Louisa ate her dinner almost in silence, tho' Alice did her best to draw her out. But poor girl, she was calculating the chances of being left alone with her angry grandmother when they dispersed after dinner, and almost wished she had not yielded to Arthur's persuasions, as he had apparently deserted her. But he was much too considerate and kind hearted for that, he had brought her there to enjoy herself, and it would not be his fault if she didn't. They began dispersing by twos and threes to explore the beauties of the place, and Louisa's heart sank within her, as she saw their numbers diminishing fast, and that Arthur too had disappeared.

       The children asked Isabel to come and see Rose's bower, and after a short consultation, Alice invited Louisa to join them, but Lady Ashton interposed.

      "I had much rather you remained with me my dear," she said curtly. And Louisa reseated herself with a great sigh as the others started on their ramble. For the children had much too great an awe of Lady Ashton, to attempt to intercede on Louisa's behalf, and if the truth must be told, they didn't much care for her company. So Louisa was left alone with the elders, who were not in such haste to move after their repast as the young people.

      "Come Louisa, let us follow the example of the rest," said Arthur reappearing.

      "I have ordered Louisa to remain here, interposed Lady Ashton sternly."

      "Oh! Aunt," remonstrated Arthur.

      "I don't approve of her coming at all, but as she is here she—"

      "May as well enjoy herself," put in Arthur.

      "Arthur," ejaculated Lady Ashton, in her most freezing tone.

      "But Aunt," you see that she is the only young lady left, and you wouldn't be so cruel as to condemn me to wander alone through these picturesque ravines."

      "You can stay here, and amuse us old people," returned Lady Ashton grimly.

      Arthur shrugged his shoulders and elevated his eye-brows, by way of reply.

      "Oh! that is too much to expect," interposed Mrs. Arlington kindly, "I think you should relent Josephine."

      "But you know that I refused to let her go with Miss Leicester and the children."

      "Oh! did you," interrupted Arthur, "that was too bad."

      "Come Louisa, we will try and find them," and off he marched her from under Lady Ashton's very nose, as Louisa felt bold with Arthur to back her, and she knew that she could not increase the weight of censure already incured—she also longed to get out of her grandmother's presence on any terms.

       Rose's bower (so called from Rose having been the first to discover it) was some distance up the winding path. It was a nice little nook, thickly shaded on all sides, having a small aperture in the west, and was completely covered with wild flowers of every description. The ascent was very difficult, for they had quite to force their way through the underwood. They arrived at last, tired and breathless, but the wild secluded beauty of the spot quite repaid them for their trouble. Isabel was in raptures, and expressed her admiration in no measured terms to the delighted children.

      "Oh! Everard, how did you find us," exclaimed Alice, as that gentleman made his appearance, "I thought no one knew of this place but ourselves."

      "Oh I followed just to see to what unheard of spot you were taking Miss Leicester," replied Everard good-naturedly.

      "Then you might have joined us, and not have crept after us in that mean way." said Rose angrily.

      "Rose, my dear Rose, you must not speak in that way." interposed Isabel authoritatively.

      "Oh Rose, don't you like Everard to come," asked Amy reproachfully.

      "I don't like him to come in that way." returned Rose.

      "Wouldn't you like to gather some of those black berries," asked Everard, after they had rested a while.

      "O yes," they all exclaimed, "what beauties," and off they scampered. Isabel was about to follow, but Everard interposed, "Stay, Miss Leicester, I have long sought an opportunity to address you, and can no longer delay—I must speak—"

      Isabel would have made her escape, but that Everard stood between her and the only available opening. She knew that he was about to propose, and would gladly have prevented it if possible, but as it was, there was no reprieve—he would do it.

      How signally had she failed, notwithstanding all her efforts, for she could not but feel, that she had not succeeded in making clear to him, her own ideas on the subject, or this would not have been. How sorry she was now, that she had allowed the fear of being unnecessarily cool to influence her conduct—yet at the same time, she could not accuse herself of having given him any encouragement. Yet, how far was he from anticipating a refusal, and how unprepared to receive it. She saw it, there was no doubt manifested in the eager expressive eyes, in the warm impulsive manner blended with a gentle earnestness that might have won the heart of a girl whose affections were disengaged. He looked so handsome, so loveable, that Isabel felt she might indeed have been content to take him, had not her affections been given to another, and she grieved to think of the pain she must inflict.

      It might have been easier if he had not looked so bright and hopeful about it, or if she could have told him of her engagement, but that was out of the question, he seemed so certain of success, so utterly unconscious of the fate that awaited him, that she could have wept, but resolutely repressing her tears, she waited with heightening color to hear the words that were to be so kindly, yet so vainly spoken.

      "Dearest