LONDON:

SAVILL, EDWARDS, AND CO., PRINTERS, CHANDOS STREET,

COVENT GARDEN.

CONTENTS

OF

THE THIRD VOLUME.

CHAP.

I. A FRAGMENT OF THE OLD, OLD STORY .

PAGE

1

WOOED AND MARRIED.

CHAPTER I.

A FRAGMENT OF THE OLD, OLD STORY.

YM was not without courage. The day after the wedding she set herself to

take up her old duties again with a

She

tolerable amount of determination and steadiness. It was dull; but life was dull, she said to herself, with a stoical shrug of the shoulders. knew what Ingleside without Mr. Chichester was; and though she sorely and persistently missed him every hour of the day, she resolutely banished all painful regrets, and bore herself at least with outward cheerfulness.

"I

Perhaps Humphrey's unselfishness had taught her something; but it was certain Mr. Chichester's last words had sunk deeply into her heart. leave you a precious legacy," he had said to her, with one of his winning smiles; and from that moment there was something sacred to Dym in the trust reposed in her. She would prove herself worthy of it; she would show him that hers

VOL. III.

1

was no hireling labour; if possible she would redouble her loving services to his mother, content if, on his return, he would reward her with one of his approving looks.

Guy Chichester had acted wisely in commending his mother to Dym's care. Dym had always been willing and affectionate, but her work had lacked enthusiasm; Guy's words had lent impetus to it. Mrs. Chichester soon felt the change in her young companion. Dym never complained of weariness now; she read, and wrote, and stitched, with laborious zeal; she sang little Scotch ballads in the evening, or drew her low chair to Mrs. Chichester's side, and beguiled a tedious hour by listening to stories of her friend's girlhood; she read Guy's and Honor's letters aloud over and over again, and kissed away the tears that sometimes stole down the mother's cheeks when any of their expressions of affection moved her more deeply than usual.

Now and then her old restless fits would return, but she never spoke of them; when the oppression became too great she would quietly steal out of the room, and muffling herself in her old plaid shawl, go out into the garden and shrubberies with Kiddle-a-wink. Dym had begged hard that Kiddle-a-wink might be left with her, and Humphrey had willingly agreed.

"Are you not afraid of taking cold? these spring evenings are very treacherous," Mrs. Chichester said to her once, when the girl came in, fresh and bright, to take up her work again.