he would keep it "till the rain stopped;" and so he did, until the
next morning; then taking back word to the village postmaster that
Miss Bond wanted a post-chaise and four horses instantly, which
intelligence set not only the inn, but the whole village in commotion.
She, who had never wanted a post-chaise before, to want four horses to
it now, was really wonderful.

"Which road shall I take, Miss?" inquired the post-boy, turning round
in his saddle, and touching his cap.

"On straight," was the answer. Such a thrill of disappointment as
ran through the little crowd, who stood at the door to witness her
departure. "On straight!" Why, they must wait the post-boy's return
before they could possibly know which way she went. Such provoking
suspense was enough to drive the entire village demented.

Miss Bond remained away a month, and then returned, bringing with her
her niece, a girl of about eight years old--her deceased sister's only
child, Mabel Graham.

The following Sunday Sarah Bond went to church, leading her young
companion by the hand; both were in deep mourning, and yet the very
least observant of the congregation remarked, that they had never seen
Miss Bond look so happy as when, coming out after service, and finding
that the wind had changed to the north-east, she took off her scarf
in the church porch, and put it round the neck of the lovely girl, who
strongly remonstrated against the act. It was evident that Mabel had
been accustomed to have her own way; for when she found her aunt was
resolved her throat should be protected, she turned round, and in
a moment tore the silk into halves. "Now, dear aunt, neither of our