with that handsome cousin Frank, that he thought, "If I was a girl, I should think as she does."
"And why should she not love him?" meditated the poor fellow, when he was lying awake in his bed that self-same night, rendered sleepless by the pain of his new wound; "why should she not love him? how could she do otherwise? thrown together as they have been from children—speaking to each other as 'Patty' and 'Fred'—kissing each other—and being as brother and sister. Would that they were so! How he kept near her all the evening—coming to her even when she was playing chess with me, then singing with her, and playing her accompaniments. She said that no one could play her accompaniments like he could—he had such good taste, and such a firm, delicate touch. Then, when they talked about sketching, she said how she had missed him, and that she had been reserving the view from Brankham Law, in order that they might sketch it together. Then he showed her his last drawings—and they were beautiful. What can I do against this?" groaned poor Verdant, from under the bed-clothes; "he has accomplishments, and I have none; he has good looks, and I haven't; he has a moustache and a pair of whiskers,—and I have only a pair of spectacles! I cannot shine in society, and win admiration, like he does; I have nothing to offer her but my love. Lucky fellow! he is worthier of her than I am—and I hope they will be very happy." At which thought, Verdant felt highly the reverse, and went off into dismal dreams.
In the morning, when Miss Patty and her cousin were setting out for the hill called Brankham Law, Verdant, who had retreated to a garden-seat beneath a fine old cedar, was roused from a very abstracted perusal of "The Dream of Fair Women," by the apparition of one who, in his eyes, was fairer than them all.
"I have been searching for you everywhere," said Miss Patty. "Mamma said that you were not riding with the others, so I knew that you must be somewhere about. I think I shall lock up my Tennyson, if it takes you so much out of our society. Won't you come up Brankham Law with Frank and me?"
"Willingly if you wish it," answered Verdant, though with an unwilling air; "but of what use can I be? Othello's occupation is gone. Your cousin can fill my place much better than if I were there."
"How very ungrateful you are!" said Miss Patty; "you really deserve a good scolding! I allow you to watch me when I am
