John rose involuntarily in the presence of an
innocent nature whose sorrow needed no interpreter
to him. The girl read sympathy in his
brotherly regard, and found comfort in the friendly
voice that asked, half playfully, half seriously,--

"Shall I tell him that he is not forgotten, even
for an Apollo? that Laura the artist has not
conquered Laura the woman? and predict that the
good daughter will yet prove the happy wife?"

With a gesture full of energy, Laura tore her
Minerva from top to bottom, while two great tears
rolled down the cheeks grown wan with hope
deferred.

"Tell him I believe all things, hope all things,
and that I never can forget."

Nan went to her and held her fast, leaving the
prints of two loving but grimy hands upon her
shoulders; Di looked on approvingly, for, though
stony-hearted regarding the cause, she fully
appreciated the effect; and John, turning to the
window, received the commendations of a robin
swaying on an elm-bough with sunshine on its
ruddy breast.

The clock struck five, and John declared that he
must go; for, being an old-fashioned soul, he