that there was not a girl in Oldham who had more pretty things or more chances for education. Mr. Weston had bought the piano expressly for her, for Lizzy was not musical, and he had given her every advantage that the place afforded; while Mrs. Weston and Lizzy had done more than their share of the work, that she might have time to practise. Pursuing the subject with the obstinacy which belongs to that inconvenient counsellor, conscience further informed her that she had heretofore made a very inadequate return for all that had been done for her, that she had been often ill-natured and disrespectful, often careless, and always jealous lest perhaps Lizzy might have something which she had not. She knew that Mrs. Weston had made a great sacrifice in letting her come to Oldbury in the very busiest time of the year, that she might have the benefit of Professor Schultz's instructions before he went to New York. Mrs. Weston, like many notable housewives, disliked having hired help; yet she had taken in Mariette Jewsbury to assist through harvest-time, in order that she, Selina, might have a nice time in Oldbury; only making the condition that she should be guided by Lizzy in all things. What sort of a return was she making?

But Selina did not care to listen to the voice of conscience. She said to herself that she would be more cautious; that she would not quarrel with Lizzy, or come across her prejudices. It was perhaps only natural that Lizzy should be jealous of her friendship with a superior person like Mrs. Orme, and she must be careful not to annoy her. She would

go to work that very evening, and knit a pair of shoes for the baby, and that would make every thing right. She had just arrived at this conclusion when Lizzy called her to tea. She bathed her face and eyes, smoothed her hair, and went down prepared to be amiable.

"Horace and myself are going up to see mother Woodbury a little while," said Lizzy, after tea. "Will you go with us? Mother sent word this afternoon that she would like to have us come over."

"I don't think I will," answered Selina. "But I will go as far as Smith's: I want to buy a little yarn. But what about baby?"

“Oh, Jane will look after him. She likes nothing better, you know." Jane was the girl whom Mr. Woodbury, asserting his authority, had insisted on his wife's keeping, a proceeding severely commented upon by Aunt Betsy and old Miss Jewsbury as an extravagant and "up-setting" proceeding.

"You know mother will be very glad to see you, Selina," remarked Mr. Woodbury. "You are a favorite with her, and she loves to hear you sing."

"She is very kind, I am sure," said Selina. "I will go some other time, but to-night I have something I want to do."

"I hope she won't go into Mrs. Orme's," said Lizzy as they walked away.

"And so do I. The fact is, Lizzy, that intimacy must be broken up, if Selina goes home to do it. I don't like the woman; and I like still less the style of visitors she has, the men especially."

"Some of them are not nice-looking, certainly.

However, I don't think Selina has ever been there when Mrs. Orme has had company. Well, we will think about it, and try to see our way. I rather wish we had not left her at home alone. However, I don't believe she will go there to-night."

Nevertheless Selina did go to Mrs. Orme's. She persuaded herself that there was something she did not understand in the pattern for a baby's shoe that Mrs. Orme had lent her, and that it was necessary for her to seek information. It could do no harm to run in just for a minute.

-

Mrs. Orme received her with open arms, and introduced her to a friend of her own from Boston, Mr. Pyncheon, a member of one of the oldest Beaconstreet families. No, she said playfully, they would not waste time over the stupid knitting; Mr. Pyncheon was an excellent judge of music, and he must hear her sing. Mr. Pyncheon seconded his hostess. He was a comparatively young-looking man, with very white hair and whiskers. He delighted Selina by his praise of her music. "I have not heard such a voice since I lost my own daughter," said he. "Miss Weston reminds me of her."

"I

"She is like poor Angelina," said Mrs. Orme. noticed it myself. Isn't it a shame, Mr. Pyncheon, that such a voice should be buried in the wilds of Oldfield, and never heard except in the village choir?"

"It is indeed. Miss Weston ought to go to some of the great German schools. Even now her voice would be noticed in New York."

It is useless to repeat any more of the compliments by which Selina was fooled to the top of her bent.

She sang song after song, alone and with Mrs. Orme, till, warned by the striking of the clock, she returned just in time to meet Mr. and Mrs. Woodbury as they returned from their evening visit. Lizzy was greatly annoyed, and spoke more sharply than was at all common with her.

"I only went in to get a pattern Mrs. Orme promised me," said Selina, restraining herself by a great effort. "Mrs. Orme had some new music, and kept me to try it. I am sorry you are vexed, Lizzy; but you know I can't break off with her all at once, when she has been so kind to me in lending me music, and so on. I won't go there if you don't want me to, though I must say I can't see any harm in her."

Already sorry for her severity, Lizzy said no more; and Selina, warned by what had happened, actually staid away from Mrs. Orme's for three whole days.

CHAPTER XVIII.

TROUBLE AT HOME.

"WHERE have you been all this time?" said Mrs. Orme to Selina, waylaying her as she came from her music-lesson. "I have not had even a glimpse of

you."

"It hasn't been my fault, Mrs. Orme," answered Selina.

"Call me Eva," interrupted her friend: "Mrs. Orme' sounds so cold and formal. Why haven't you been in? Mr. Pyncheon was so anxious to hear you sing again. I wanted you to be friends with him, Selina he has neither chick nor child, and he has no end of money. He said, after you went out, 'How I wish that child belonged to me! I should be so glad to give her a first-rate musical education.""

"Did he?" asked Selina. "I know he said my voice was like his daughter's."

"Yes. Poor thing, she went to the bad, made a runaway match, and he never saw her afterward; though he heard that she died somewhere in this neighborhood, and left a child. It was that brought him to Oldbury, to see if he could find any trace of her. Just think, Selina, if you should turn out to