—and blending his image evermore in her remembrance with her first summer holiday—with sunny beams—glistening leaves—warbling birds—fairy wings—sparkling waves. Oh to live so in a child's heart—innocent, blessed, angel-like—better, better than the troubled reflection upon woman's later thoughts; better than that mournful illusion, over which tears so bitter are daily shed—better than First Love! They entered the boat. Sophy had never, to the best of her recollection, been in a boat before. All was new to her; the life-like speed of the little vessel—that world of cool, green weeds, with the fish darting to and fro—the musical chime of oars—those distant, stately swans. She was silent now—her heart was very full.
"What are you thinking of, Sophy?" asked Lionel, resting on the oar.
"Thinking—I was not thinking."
"What then?"
"I don't know—feeling, I suppose."
"Feeling what?"
"As if between sleep and waking—as the water perhaps feels, with the sunlight on it!"
"Poetical," said Vance, who, somewhat of a poet himself, naturally sneered at poetical tendencies in others. "But not so bad in its way. Ah, have I hurt your vanity? there are tears in your eyes."
"No, Sir," said Sophy, falteringly. "But I was thinking then."
"Ah," said the artist, "that's the worst of it; after feeling ever comes thought—what was yours?"
"I was sorry poor grandfather was not here, that's all."
"It was not our fault; we pressed him cordially," said Lionel.
"You did, indeed, Sir—thank you! And I don't know why he refused you." The young men exchanged compassionate glances.
Lionel then sought to make her talk of her past life—tell him more of Mrs. Crane. Who and what was she?
Sophy could not, or would not, tell. The remembrances were painful; she had evidently tried to forget them. And the people with whom Waife had placed her, and who had been kind?
The Miss Burtons—and they kept a day-school, and taught Sophy to read, write, and cipher. They lived near London, in a lane opening on a great common, with a green rail before the house, and had a good many pupils, and kept a tortoise-shell cat and acanary. Not much to enlighten her listener did Sophy impart here.
And now they neared that stately palace, rich in associations
