Hildegarde's Neighbors

he Deacon. 'Nao

two portraits, those of Dundee and William the Silent, were wreathed in long garlands of white hawthorn. The effect was charming, and Hildegarde might well look satisfied. But Bell Merryweather, when she came into the room, thought that its owner was the most beautiful part of it. Hildegarde was used to herself, as she would have said frankly; she knew she was pretty, and it was pleasant to be pretty, and there was an end of it. But to Bell, in whose family either brown locks or red were the rule, this white and gold maiden, with her cool, fresh tints of pearl and rose, was something wonderful. Hildegarde's dress this morning was certainly nothing astonishing, simply a white cambric powdered with buttercups; but its perfect freshness, its trim simplicity, made

'll find; and a book is the best thing to drop, too, my poor child. When you feel the fit coming on, put down the teacup and grab a dictionary; then choo

y admired all her arrangements as heartily as she could wi

would the girls at college say if they could see such a room as this, and o

garde. "Why, I couldn

fun seeing how closely one can pack. We have sixty-five pictures in our room, my chum a

laughing. "Why, he is mine, my very own, a

ighlands, or the south of France, as one picture or another claimed their attention. Hildegarde was enjoying herself immensely, and did the ho

little brother said you were at college, and I instantly saw you with spectacles, and pale, lank hair done

d Bell. "I insis

the day before. "You looked like an apple,-so exactly like a nice red and w

I!" sai

'Miss' part?" inquired Hildega

"But I have wanted to say 'Hildegarde' ever since I came in

etly downstairs. One special feature of Hildegarde's room was the staircase, her own private staircase, of which she was immensely proud. It was a narrow, winding stair, very steep and

ried Hildegarde. "Wait till I c

irs, where she lay doubled up against the door. "Thank you,

Hildegarde's look of astonishment. "She falls about so much, and has done so since she was a baby, that she keeps in training, I

d in wind and limb. "If only I did not break anything," she said, anxiously. "I came a ter

g the wall of the staircase. "There is no crack," she said. "I think it is all right, Toots." She tapp

"What do you mean, Bell? I k

l inquired. "Search would reveal so

crouched together on the narrow stair, and tapped and rapped here a

s on the other side of

It must be,-yes, it is! The old chimney, the great squa

t likely," said Bell. "I have hea

hard on one spot of moulding, she felt it quiver. There was a faint sound, like a murmur of protest; then slowly, unwillingly

ps the floor will give way, and let us down into places wit

rrible than the dining-room is under our feet. But thi

it is a chimney-room there cannot be any particular light.

to bear the brunt of any horrors there may be. Spiders

ess, they found themselves in a small square chamber, high enough for them to stand upright. The walls were sm

ed Hildegarde. "Wait, girls! I w

think I have found a window, or someth

vement; a tiny panel was pushed aside, and a feeble ray of light

m out through the little opening, and pushed away a dense mass of vines that hung d

he floor an old rug, faded to a soft, nameless hue, but soft and fine. On the walls hung a few pictures, quaint little coloured wood-cuts in gilt frames, representing ladies and gentlemen in scant gowns and

aid Gertrude, softly, wi

wait! I am sure we shall find something else. I will tell you a

t her pocket scissors, and snipped with ardour, then drew off the cover. It was a doll's bedstead, of polished mahogany, with four pineapple-topped posts, exactly like the great one in which Hildegarde herself slept; and in it, under dainty frilled sheets, blankets and

" cried Bell, "w

crystal drops rolling silently down her chee

live here; it is about her that I wanted to tell you. But first let us see what she has writt

ice, if not in her eyes, as she rea

not think to pass by it each day and not go in to see them, and that Sister Barbara will not allow. It may be that no one will find my playroom till I show it myself to my little children, if God wills that I have them, which I shall pray always, now that I may not have my dolls any more. But if that should not be, or I should be taken away, then I think no harm to pray that a girl like myself may one day f

oud. Bell smoothed her hair with light, motherly touches, drying her own eyes the while. Hildegarde sat silent for

, "we do know, dear; we

who had lived and died in this old house,-the bright, beautiful Hester Aytoun, who faded in her springtime loveliness, and died at

s"-she hesitated, and her voice fell still lower-"sometimes I have felt as if she wished it to be so,-as if she liked to come now and then and see the old home, and give a loving look and

hey peeped into the chest of drawers, and found it full of dainty frocks and petticoats, all exquisitely made; there was even a pile of tiny handkerchiefs, marked "Annab

an spirit of the little place,-the girl who had loved her dolls, and so made herself dear to a

secret chamber; "I shall come sometimes, Hester dear, and sit there, just

s left, only the white wainscoting, one panel like another,