Turns of Fortune, and Other Tales

ked arm in arm-the pride and admiration of every villager. The curate became at last rector, and Mrs. Myles's absurdities

kindnesses of life-those tender nothings which make up so large a something in the account of every day's existence. Similar, withal, as the cousins were in appearance, they grew up as dissimilar in feelings and opinions as it is possible to conceive, and yet loving each other dearly. Still Helen never for a moment fancied that any one in the village of Abbeyweld could compete with her in any way. She had never questioned herself as to this being the case, but the idea had been nourished since her earliest infancy-had never been disputed, except perhaps when latterly a town belle, or even a more conceited specimen, a country belle, visited in the neighbourhood; but popular voice (and there is a popular voice, be it loud or gentle, everywhere) soon discovered that blonde, and feathers, and flowers, had a good deal to do with this disturbing of popular opinion; a

mother; it was not the longing of a village lass for a new bonnet or a brilliant dress-it was an ambition of sufficient strength to have sprung up in a castle. She resolved to be something beyond what she was; and there are very few who have strength to give birth to, and cherish up a resolve, who will not achieve a purpose, be it for good or bad, for weal or for wo. Rose was altogether and perfectly simple and single-hearted: conscious that she was an orphan, dependent upon her grandmother's slender annuity for support, and that Helen's father could not provide both for his

er, and Rose turned into the lane where t

t there; I am not in a humo

d you would,

indeed we are lovers. Do you know, Rose, I should be very much obliged to you t

me." She checked herself in time; stooped down to gather some flowers to hide her agitation; felt her cheeks flush, her heart beat, her head swim, and then a chill creep through her frame. Helen had unconsciously awoke the hope which Rose had never dared to confess unto herself. The waking was ecstatic

voice, "did you really think I ev

mparison to you-very, very rich. And if he were not-oh, Helen!-is he not in himself-bu

rue and faithful lover; but I should not quite like to break his heart-it would not be friendly, knowing him so long; for indeed," she

ill grow anywhere, ay, and flourish anywhere. It unfortunately requires but little culture; still Helen wa

Rose, "surely-you-you

ecturing face is as long as ever. Surely," she continued pettishly, "I c

aid is really true, you have only told me half the truth. Helen

one I like better than Edward. But, Rose"-She buried her face in her hands, and as suddenly withdrew them, and shaking back her luxuriant ringlets, while a brig

." It would be impossible to describe the contemptuous expression of Helen's finely moulded features, while she repeated, as if to herself, "Above us!-above me!" And then she added aloud, and with what seemed to

, Helen," she replied mournfully; "but why have you ke

yfully-"such a hunt for you, Helen! I have been over Woodland brook, and up as far as Fairmill, where you said you would be-oh, you truant! And I doubt if I should have caught you at last, but for poor Dash"-and the sagacious dog sprung about, as if conscious that he deserved a large portion of the praise.

f those half-whispered nothings which are considered of such importa

dearest Helen, go home yet. Besides," he added, "your grandmother has plenty of employment; there is Mrs.

d Helen, eagerly, now real

little hedgerow birds, when they first saw a paroquet amongst them, and began longing for his gay feathers. Do not go, dear Helen-they will soon be gone; and I do so want

y look as you please, but I certainly shall go." Edward Lynne remonstrated, implored, and, finally, flew into a passion. At any other time Helen's proud spirit would have risen so as to meet this out

ower over the affections of our fellow creatures; it is so especially intoxicating to women as to be greatly dangerous, and those who do not abuse such power deserve much praise. Rose walked timidly behind them, wondering how Helen could have imagined any

tain

Helen. Goo

w on Rose as he dashed into another path; while his dog stood for a moment, un

very melody of love; and the two girls, in a few moments more, were in their own cottage, where Rose saw that evening, f