back her beautiful hair, and looked down fondly in her face. "If you are
very good, as they tell children, I will send you the most charming present
you can conceive of, or that Paris can offer, for the anniversary of our
wedding-day. Too bad that we shall be separated, for the first time; but
three months will soon pass away."

And Catherine smiled through the tears that were trembling in her eyes, at
the half sad, half playful words; and a wifelike glance of trustfulness
told how very dear he was.

There is nothing very romantic nowadays in a voyage to Europe. It has
become a commonplace, everyday journey. You step to the deck of the steamer
with less fear and trembling of friends than was once bestowed on a passage
down the Hudson, and before you are fairly recovered from the first shock
of sea-sickness, you have reached the destined port. But, for all that,
longing eyes watch the rapid motion of the vessel as it lessens in the
distance, and many a prayer is wafted to its white sails by the sighing
night-wind. There are lonely hours to remind one that the broad and silent
sea is rolling between us and those we love, and we know that it is
sometimes treacherous in its tranquillity.

It is then we bless the quiet messengers that come from afar to tell us of
their well-being--when, the seal, with its loving device, is pressed to
trembling lips, and the well-known hand recalls the form of the absent one
so vividly. So, at last, the long-looked-for letters came with tidings of
the safe arrival of Mr. Grant at his destination, and the hope that his
return would be more speedy than had been anticipated. A month passed
slowly away, and little Gertrude had been her mother's best comforter in
absence. Every day some new intelligence lighted her bright eyes, and
Catherine could trace another token of resemblance to the absent one. But,