designs copied from the loveliest flowers of spring-the cowslip, the violet, the primrose, the king-cup, and the hawthorn. She knew full well that beauty cannot be too purely or too often set before children's eyes. In this the potter had exquisitely aided her, for violets twined round the handles, and blooms as rich in dye cleaved to spout and lip. Close to the tray stood a little red earthpan for Chico's milk. Another little dish was filled with nuts for Punchinello's supper, though for a time they were covered by a plate, as the poppet had a naughty trick of beginning before other people. When permission came, a tiny arm-chair was placed on the table. Into this he popped, and then proceeded gravely to put the nuts into the pockets of his scarlet coat. This done, he cracked one at a time very deliberately, though not, believe me, without making the queerest faces. The intervals he varied in several ways. Sometimes he might be seen peeping into the cream-jug, then he begged a lump of sugar or a piece of biscuit; or else he grinned hideously at the pussies, as one or other jumped up on its mistress's lap to purr her a pretty song. So that in spite of her haste, and her intense happiness on other accounts, Lilian could not refrain from laughing merrily. In this both her papa and mamma joined.

The simple meal over, the good nurse brought down the little girl's out-door dress, with several warm additions. Whilst Lilian, assisted by her mamma, put these on, Bonner went to see if the cook had any little dainty she could send for Phoebe's supper; and soon came back with a small basket nicely packed. This was intrusted to the little girl, as also Dick Redburn's letter to his grandmother.

Lilian and her papa were soon on their way to Quarr. This lay through the adjacent village, as the road was more beaten than that by solitary lanes. But by this hour the forge was still; the farm-house doors closed; and none but those of the little inn and hucksters' shops were opened or shut as a customer passed to and fro. To

add to the peace and beauty of the wintry scene, the moon shone very bright. It revealed every beauty in the frosted snow; it made the little frozen way-side pools and streams shine like molten silver; it cast down in lovely tracery the shadows of the leafless trees and hedges; it glittered on the ivy round cottage roofs and on their close-shut casements.

About midway in the scattered village was a solitary red-brick house, shrouded amidst leafless trees and apparently unoccupied. It stood close to the road, though divided from it by a low brick wall and iron palisading that was much in ruin and eaten by rust; whilst a mass of dark evergreen shrubs hid the narrow interior court or garden almost from view. But here and there, where a glimpse was afforded, its dark shuttered windows could be seen; and the walks of a large neglected garden up the sides and rear. This latter ran for a considerable space contiguous with the road, a pool and rustic orchard then divided it from the churchyard; this again blended its yews and oaks with the shrubbery of the quaint old parsonage. As the carriage passed this house, Lilian's papa was surprised at seeing a gleam of fire-light through one of the shuttered casements. It was fitful, as though from a fire newly lighted, or purposely kept under; otherwise than this there was no sign of human life about the place; for the snow around the front gate was untrodden, and all was as solitary and neglected as it had been, summer and winter, for many years. But there was no mistake in what he saw, though he passed it by unnoticed to his little daughter.

The carriage stayed at the parsonage-gate. Mr. Wye went within for a few minutes; when he returned it was in company with a kind-looking, middle-aged gentleman, who, looking through the carriage-window, greeted his little friend.

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Well, Lily," he said, "this is wonderful news to come all at once. But which pleases you most, the journey to London, Dick's promised return, or this prospect of a

little brother in Lawrence Quarr? Perhaps I need not ask.'

"Oh! please, Mr. Rich, the thought of Lawrence coming to live with me is the best. Because I shall have somebody to talk to and play with. I have nothing but the dolls now, and Chico and Flamingo, and they can't answer me. Flamingo tries, but he only chatters. And we shall be so happy. Oh, so very happy; papa says that Lawrence shall have a pony like my Greybeard: indeed, he shall have Greybeard if he like it; and we're to have a Robinson Crusoe house on the island in the great pool; and mamma says that we shall go with her into the woods and to the moor to gather wild flowers for her painting. Oh! yes; we shall be very happy."

As

"Golden hours, my Lily," said the clergyman, as he kissed her enthusiastic happy face; "but we must have other hours to make them still more precious. For your papa has just told me, that you and Lawrence are to be my little scholars, and come daily to the parsonage. this is so, I shall be a very happy master, and will strive to teach you much that we should all learn, as well as put in practice." His fine, meek, earnest face, as it thus looked down upon the child, gave a promise more than words of how such Christian duty would be performed.

Lilian had no time to answer, for he shook her hand and said, "Now, good-bye; remember me to Phoebe, and say I will walk to Quarr to-morrow."

It was about two miles from Wyecote to Quarr. When the carriage had left the village rather more than a mile, it began to descend into a deep fissure of the moorland, called the Forge Valley; because, in very ancient times, the rude forges of the Romans had glowed amidst the woodland. In summer, it was the loveliest spot for many miles. Even now, in the dreariest time of winter, it had much beauty; for the brawling river that ran on one side was too rapid for the frost to bind, and the deep woodland, which swept down from either ridge of the wild moor, was thickly strewn with the rich hues of the holly

and the mountain ash. In some cases, the dark greenness of the fir and yew stood softened in the splendid glory of the night; in others, the bare branches of the leafless oak and elm were cast down in delicate tracery upon the frosted snow. Occasionally, where the woodland parted, or grew less dense, little streams and cascades, now frozen into masses, or into countless icicles, sparkled in the moonlight, which fell amidst the woodland shadows with effects most soft and beautiful.

On the river side of the valley was a celebrated place, called the Gipsies' Cave. It was so called because once much resorted to by a tribe of gipsies named Yarrow; but for twenty years, at least, they had quitted Yorkshire, and migrated, as it was said, to the southern shires of England. Since then it had been little sought except by the wandering tourist, or by enlightened persons, like Lilian's mamma, who went thither in summer, with her little daughter, to seek for the beautiful lichens which grew upon its rocky walls. As for the country people round, they avoided it because they did not like it. But there was no ground for their dislike or fear; for it was dark because thickly surrounded by trees and masses of brushwood; and the bones found at its rear, or in digging, were only those of the wild animals, who had resorted to such places when England was densely covered with forests, as it was in ancient times. Otherwise, it was a lovely sequestered spot. Its rocky roof and walls were both lofty and dry; its floor was thickly carpeted with withered fern and leaves; and before it lay a platform of the richest turf, watered by a little rill that threaded its sweet way from the heights above.

Mr. Wye, with his arm wound round his little daughter, sat lost in thought; so that Lilian was the first to perceive the reflection from a large fire in the Gipsies' Cave. It gleamed down the declivity of the valley, across the rapid stream, and scintillated its waning points of light in the snowy road.

"Dear papa." she exclaimed with breathless astonish

ment, as she pointed to the red glare amidst the trees; "there is a fire in the Gipsies' Cave. How I should like to see it." Her papa was surprised, though he did not

say so.

"It is only some poor benighted travellers, I suppose; for all are not housed so well as you and I, dear Lily."

At this moment George descended and came to the carriage-window-the horses were frightened, and would not go on.

"I must lead the horses, sir, if you please," he said, "a little way; for the light, yonder, frightens them. If I am not mistaken, the Yarrows have come back to their old places; and you'll see Aggy herself when we get to the ford opposite the Cave, for a woman stands there in the shadow of the wood."

What George said proved to be true. When the carriage reached the spot, an aged woman, dressed gipsy fashion, came forward from the shadows in which she had stood, and addressed Lilian's papa, who by this time had let down the carriage-window.

"Good e'en to you, sir. It is a bright night and a happy errand." She said this in a rough unmodulated voice, as, leaning with her withered hands upon the window, she looked within. But her masculine austerity of face was softened into an expression of tender admiration when she had glanced down upon the happy little child. "I am glad to see you, Aggy," answered Mr. Wye, for the old gipsy was associated with some of the most pleasant memories of his boyish days. "You have been long away from our shire, but the old welcome shall be yours. There shall be a loaf of bread, a cup of ale, a bundle of faggots whenever you need them. But what has brought you back-not need, I hope?"

"Our work, sir; our duty, sir." Mr. Wye did not for the moment understand her meaning, so he asked if she went about the country with pottery, as in those old days when she told him tales by