Oh! hush the song, and let her tears
Flow to the dream of her early years!
Holy and pure are the drops that fall
When the young bride goes from her father's hall;
She goes unto love yet untried and new--
She parts from love which hath still been true.

--MRS. HEMANS' POEMS.


"How did it happen that Mr. Dinsmore was not of your party last night,
Miss Stevens?" inquired one of the lady boarders the next morning at
the breakfast-table.

"He had been riding all the morning with his little girl, and I
presume was too much fatigued to go again in the evening," Miss
Stevens coolly replied, as she broke an egg into her cup, and
proceeded very deliberately to season it.

"It seems he was not too much fatigued to walk," returned the other, a
little maliciously; "or to take a lady upon his arm."

Miss Stevens started, and looked up hastily.

"I would advise you to be on your guard, and play your cards well,
or that quiet Miss Allison may prove a serious rival," the lady
continued. "He certainly pays her a good deal of attention."

"It is easy to account for that," remarked Miss Stevens, with a
scornful toss of the head; "he is very fond of his little girl, and