remarkably good-looking." Simon Lundley, therefore, the next Sunday,
about sunset, arrayed in a suit of substantial blue broadcloth,
boldly presented himself at George Brenton's front door, and
inquired if Miss Breck was at home. It proved to be a fortunate, as
well as a bold step. Pedy recognised him at once, and had a kind of
a vague prescience as to the object of his visit, or such might have
been the inference drawn from the deep crimson which suddenly
suffused her cheeks.

From that time he visited her regularly every Sunday, and it was
soon decided that they should be married in season to enable her to
pack the fall butter. This decision she, for sometime, delayed to
communicate to Emily, from sheer bashfulness. She could not, she
said, when she at last had wrought herself up to what appeared to
her the very pinnacle of boldness, make up her mind to tell her
before, for the life of her, but then, she did suppose that Simon
kind of had her promise that she would be married to him in just
three weeks from the next Sunday.

Emily immediately called on her mother to communicate to her the
melancholy information. Mrs. Anderson saw that these were what might
be termed "minor trials," for her daughter in prospective. She hoped
that she would be discreet enough not to allow them to be magnified
into what might appropriately be called major trials.

"Don't you think, mother," said Emily, "that you can manage to find,
me a girl as good as Pedy?"

"I think it will be impossible. Pedy is a kind of _rara avis_ in all
that appertains to housekeeping. She excels in everything. You will