responsibilities; and Alfred, taking it on himself, was fairly 
started on the journey of life.

'Britain!' said the Doctor.  'Run to the gate, and watch for the 
coach.  Time flies, Alfred.'

'Yes, sir, yes,' returned the young man, hurriedly.  'Dear Grace! a 
moment!  Marion - so young and beautiful, so winning and so much 
admired, dear to my heart as nothing else in life is - remember!  I 
leave Marion to you!'

'She has always been a sacred charge to me, Alfred.  She is doubly 
so, now.  I will be faithful to my trust, believe me.'

'I do believe it, Grace.  I know it well.  Who could look upon your 
face, and hear your voice, and not know it!  Ah, Grace!  If I had 
your well-governed heart, and tranquil mind, how bravely I would 
leave this place to-day!'

'Would you?' she answered with a quiet smile.

'And yet, Grace - Sister, seems the natural word.'

'Use it!' she said quickly.  'I am glad to hear it.  Call me 
nothing else.'

'And yet, sister, then,' said Alfred, 'Marion and I had better have 
your true and steadfast qualities serving us here, and making us 
both happier and better.  I wouldn't carry them away, to sustain 
myself, if I could!'

'Coach upon the hill-top!' exclaimed Britain.

'Time flies, Alfred,' said the Doctor.

Marion had stood apart, with her eyes fixed upon the ground; but, 
this warning being given, her young lover brought her tenderly to 
where her sister stood, and gave her into her embrace.

'I have been telling Grace, dear Marion,' he said, 'that you are 
her charge; my precious trust at parting.  And when I come back and 
reclaim you, dearest, and the bright prospect of our married life 
lies stretched before us, it shall be one of our chief pleasures to 
consult how we can make Grace happy; how we can anticipate her 
wishes; how we can show our gratitude and love to her; how we can 
return her something of the debt she will have heaped upon us.'

The younger sister had one hand in his; the other rested on her 
sister's neck.  She looked into that sister's eyes, so calm, 
serene, and cheerful, with a gaze in which affection, admiration, 
sorrow, wonder, almost veneration, were blended.  She looked into 
that sister's face, as if it were the face of some bright angel.  
Calm, serene, and cheerful, the face looked back on her and on her 
lover.

'And when the time comes, as it must one day,' said Alfred, - 'I 
wonder it has never come yet, but Grace knows best, for Grace is 
always right - when SHE will want a friend to open her whole heart 
to, and to be to her something of what she has been to us - then, 
Marion, how faithful we will prove, and what delight to us to know 
that she, our dear good sister, loves and is loved again, as we 
would have her!'

Still the younger sister looked into her eyes, and turned not - 
even towards him.  And still those honest eyes looked back, so 
calm, serene, and cheerful, on herself and on her lover.

'And when all that is past, and we are old, and living (as we 
must!) together - close together - talking often of old times,' 
said Alfred - 'these shall be our favourite times among them - this 
day most of all; and, telling each other what we thought and felt, 
and hoped and feared at parting; and how we couldn't bear to say 
good bye - '

'Coach coming through the wood!' cried Britain.

'Yes!  I am ready - and how we met again, so happily in spite of 
all; we'll make this day the happiest in all the year, and keep it 
as a treble birth-day.  Shall we, dear?'

'Yes!' interposed the elder sister, eagerly, and with a radiant 
smile.  'Yes!  Alfred, don't linger.  There's no time.  Say good 
bye to Marion.  And Heaven be with you!'

He pressed the younger sister to his heart.  Released from his 
embrace, she again clung to her sister; and her eyes, with the same 
blended look, again sought those so calm, serene, and cheerful.

'Farewell, my boy!' said the Doctor.  'To talk about any serious 
correspondence or serious affections, and engagements and so forth, 
in such a - ha ha ha! - you know what I mean - why that, of course, 
would be sheer nonsense.  All I can say is, that if you and Marion 
should continue in the same foolish minds, I shall not object to 
have you for a son-in-law one of these days.'

'Over the bridge!' cried Britain.

'Let it come!' said Alfred, wringing the Doctor's hand stoutly.  
'Think of me sometimes, my old friend and guardian, as seriously as 
you can!  Adieu, Mr. Snitchey!  Farewell, Mr. Craggs!'