prove of your making such a 'splurge,' as Robbie says."

"I'm quite willing to be guided by him," she answered, "only, do, please, papa, bring home the casket to-morrow."

"It will be some trouble. The fact is, I don't like to have them in the house, for fear of accidents."

"Then, of what use are they, pray? My aunt Mildred intended I should wear them, no doubt."

"But Lissa wishes her blue-silk gored and trained for the soirée."

"There will be ample time to do that Monday. We will help all we can." "What is the haste about the gray suit, Milla?"

A burning blush rose to the young girl's cheek; her eyes sank; but in an instant she raised them, saying in a low voice, that the sempstress might not hear,

"Mr. Dassel has promised to take me

"What a baby you are! You must learn to control yourself better, my little girl," and Mr. Cameron, having risen from the table, swept the light form up in the hollow of his arm, and kissed the wet check. "When do you expect to assume wifely dignities unless you grow out of babyhood?"

The blue eyes flashed up into his with a singular look which haunted him all day, he knew not why.

"Bring home the casket, papa; if it is lost I will take the consequences."

How wilful Milla was growing! Mrs. Cameron looked at her with sternness. She wondered that the child, who usually shrank from drawing attention to herself, who would not play or sing for strangers, nor wear any dress which might attract especial observation, should now seck to make herself an object of remark, and probably ridicule, by an undue splendor of jewelry.

"Louis will laugh at her, when he hears of her intention, and that will be the end of it," the mother consoled herself by thinking.

Mrs. Cameron was hurried, that morning, and was obliged to put aside these weighty matters for affairs of minor interest. The dressmaker had arrived; there was plenty of work awaiting her; and as soon as pater familias could be kissed all 'round, and decently hurried out of the house, the ladies repaired to the sewing-chamber.

"What is first upon the carpet?

"Well, well, child, I will see what can be done,"-and Milla was soon gratified, by having her dress in process of making.

That day and the next Mrs. Cameron and Elizabeth were apparently absorbed in patterns, trimmings, etc. Whatever was in either mind, there was opportunity to say but little; the subject of Sam's hopes was not even referred to. Milla, useless and sweet, as usual, flitted in, occasionally, to note the progress of her own garments; Louis spent a part of both afternoons alone with her, in the parlor; no one, not even her mother, noticed her nervous manner, nor the feverish flush upon her cheek. She was unusually gay; they, unusually busy.

Saturday evening Mr. Cameron brought home two precious things; firstly, Milla's casket of jewels, secondly, a letter from Robbie. The boy was well, not home-sick, happily settled in his school; the only accident he had met with was that upon going aboard the steamer. Every body cried over the first foreign letter, although there was nothing to cry about, but rather, reason for rejoicing. There was a little sealed note in the missive, directed to Lissa. Her fingers quivered as she opened it; but when she saw how brief it was, sho grew calmer, reading hastily:

"My dear Lissa:

"I have not yet had opportunity to do what I proposed. But in a month, or six weeks, I shall have completed mv self-imposed task. In the meant

Deseech you, by your love for me, by your love for her, keep the promise you made. R. C."

"Deluded boy!" she murmured, with a sad smile, putting the note in her pocket.

After dinner, the casket was opened, and the jewels again examined.

"I hope no thief is looking, with wicked eyes, through the window," remarked Dassel, stepping up to the blind and dropping it,-they were in the library, and the two sisters had hung themselves about with tremulous sparkles of dew and fire congealed in gems; they were trying the effect, Milla in triumph, Lissa with sharp recollections of what had once been whispered to her.

"You make me shudder!" cried Milla, turning pale, and stealing closer to the speaker, as if for protection.

"Such a thing might happen once in a thousand times," he answered lightly. "At all events, we'll drop the curtain between us and possible prying eyes. Mrs. Grizzle is very careless of her jew els. I don't believe the drawer in which they are placed is half the time locked. 'Easy come, easy go,' as the saying is. She has not so many as are here, of course; yet more than I should think she would care to lose. Well, little one, did the dressmaker finish the dress?"

"She did, Louis."

"Why, how grave you are about it! It seems to be a matter of serious moment to my little lady here, whether she goes riding to-morrow in a new dress or an old one."

"It is the first time, you know," said Milla, coloring.

"If it should be cold, we'd have to wrap you up in a rabbit-skin and hide the pretty dress. So, what matters it ! " Mr. Dassel was in the gayest conceivable humor. The rest of the family involuntarily caught the infection. When Mr. Cameron proposed a game of chess with Louis, he was clamored against for selfishness; social converse was the order of the evening, and none ould be so exclusive as to withdraw

themselves from it. Mrs. Cameron was happy in the knowledge that Robbie's journey had been completed; all other anxieties she put away for the hour, the more readily that Elizabeth appeared more like her old self.

It was late when Mr. Dassel betook himself to the shelter of Rose Villa.

"Be very careful of the casket, little one," he said again, as he was going away. "Where shall you keep it tonight?"

“Under my pillow, if papa will allow me. They say, 'Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.' I want to try how a head lies on a casket of diamonds."

Milla always had slept alone in her own pretty room; but Sabrina, her faithful attendant, had a closet out of it in hearing of her young mistress, where, if the child did but sigh in her sleep, she could fly to her. This night, Milla was a long while preparing for bed; finally, she bade Sabrina retire, and the latter heard her murmuring passionate prayers for a full half hour, on her knees, in the chilly midnight. After she was finally in bed, she tossed and sighed until it seemed as if she would never compose herself; at length she slumbered, and the old nurse, relieved of care, sank into a deep sleep.

Out of this she was aroused by the loud screams of Milla, and springing up, and rushing into her room, she just saw the dim outline of a man's form on the balcony outside the window, before it disappeared.

"Oh, Lordy! Oh goody graeious me!" joined in the nurse, standing still and clapping her hands, instead of rushing to the open window and endeavoring to track the intruder. It was not until Mr. Cameron came upon the scene, and actually forced an explanation from them, that any effort was made to follow the man. It was then too late. His examination of the balcony showed that a ladder, which had been used on the place in gathering fruit from the trees, had been brought and raised to the balcony, making it a very simple thing for the robber to ascend. Milla, thoughtless of danger, had left the sash up a

few inches, so that he had only to softly raise it in order to find himself in her apartment..

Mr. Cameron's next thought was to ascertain if he had succeeded in his

object. If the casket was gone, he should at once attempt pursuit.

"No, papa, here it is," cried poor Milla, shaking as if in an ague-fit.

"Probably he made some slight noise in opening the window, which awakened you just in time to save your fortune, Milla."

“I don't know. I was sound asleep, when I suddenly opened my eyes and saw,a man standing in the middle of the room. My night-lamp was burning very low, but I saw him distinctly. I do not know how I managed to scream, for my heart seemed to be in my throat, so that, at first, I could not make a sound."

"You did berry well at de hollerin' bisness, Missa," said Sabrina; "an' I reckon I did a little myself when I saw dat spook on de balcony.”

"You saved your casket by it, that's evident," said Mr. Cameron.

"And her life too, perhaps," added the mother, sitting on the bed, and soothing the trembling girl by holding her hands.

Many were the questions asked about the appearance of the burglar, etc., but Milla could give no account of him, except that he wore a mask and had on light clothes. Mr. Cameron, revolver in hand, went outside and reconnoitred his premises; but, of course, the intruder had filed at the first alarm.

"You'll be glad to get the jewels back in their safe, won't you, sister?" said Lissa, when the excitement had partially subsided.

"Not until after the soirée," was the answer-Milla could be a trifle obstinate when inclined. "But I shall not object to papa's taking them, and allowing them to keep company with his revolver."

"Now that some one evidently knows of their being in the house, we cannot pe too careful. How singular! I must have been tracked from my own office.

But it is getting light in the east. Let us not lose our morning nap."

"I will share Milla's bed the rest of the night," said Lissa; "and if you will leave your room-door open, we shall not be afraid."

No further adventure was met with that night. The family were late to their Sunday breakfast. Milla looked as if she had not slept at all; she was so agitated and nervous that her mother advised her not to think of going to church, but to lie down and rest all the forenoon, that she might feel like enjoying the promised drive in the latter part of the day.

Before breakfast Mr. Cameron and his men had made an examination of the premises, and had picked up the mask worn by the burglar, which had been thrown away on the road, quite a distance from the house.

After breakfast, he went over to Rose Villa, to ascertain if any attempts at entering that place had been made. Nothing was amiss there, although Sam declared he had heard a window open and shut in the night; at which the others laughed, while Mrs. Grizzle remarked that she must be more careful of her things, which were liable to be stolen any day or night-she was so heedless about locks.

"I told you, last evening, somebody might be looking in at the window," said Mr. Dassel. "I have no doubt you were followed from the city. Sometimes these scoundrels will keep their eyes on a thing for months. I remember once, I had a large sum of money, in gold, sent to me from Paris, by express, to Baden-Baden. When it arrived, I was notified by the messenger who warned me to be cautious, as he was informed that it had been followed all the way from Paris by two celebrated thieves. I took it, quietly, to my room in the hotel, saying nothing about the nature of the package, my own servant carrying it, intending, on the morrow, to pay some debts to a broker there, and take home the remainder of the coin. That night my servant wished to sleep in my apartment; but I said,

'No, I was not aftid.' I had, however, a small dog, a pet of mine, and one of the most sagacious little fellows that ever belonged to his race. It was in the latter part of the night, and I was fast asleep, forgetful of money or its responsibilities, when I was awakened by the cold nose of my dog, pressed silently against my face. Every faculty was instantly sharpened by a consciousness of peril. It was perfectly dark, my candle having burned out, and I knew not but that some one was already in my room. I lay, quietly, listening. I could just hear the velvet patter of my dog's feet, who seemed to have muffled his toes on purpose, going about the floor; and again he came back and laid his nose to my face, still without a sound. Upon finding that I was awake, he went off again. I thought best to follow him; and with my pistol in my hand I crept noiselessly out of bed, and walked in the direction of the door. When about six feet from it, I heard a peculiar noise, scarcely audible, but persistent. I knew it at once. Some one was sawing off the bolt! All right; let him work away! I stationed myself close to the door, in such a position that, when it was opened, I could shoot the intruder; my dog stood at my side, pressing against my leg, but making no sound. In fifteen minutes there was a slight rattling, as of something dropping, a cessation of the sawing, a moment's profound silence, during which, I suppose, the burglar was also listening. Had my dog barked then, or stirred, one of the most noted of Parisian thieves would not have been winged; but the brave little fellow knew better. Presently the door was pushed softly, slowly, ajar; then there was the flash of my pistol, the report, an alarm through the house, persons running to the scene, lights, and upon the floor, bathed in his own blood, the would-be robber. He was seriously, not mortally wounded, and was taken care of by the police. His companion was also arrested in his attempt to escape. For some days my little dog was the lion of BadenBaden."

"I have no doubt his dogship was more worthy of distinction than many of the lions who have attracted atten tion in that bad little city," said Mr. Cameron. "Do you dine with us to day, Louis?"

"Thank you; Mrs. Grizzle has held out inducements for me to remain at home. But tell Miss Milla, please, that I shall be at the door at half-past two."

Mr. Cameron thought it prudent to remain at home that morning. His wife and eldest daughter drove to the little country church, whose Gothic arches rose amid the shadows of a beautiful wood, now gorgeous with every autumn tint, as if the windows had been illuminated of "God's first temples." Never before had Elizabeth prayed as she prayed that day, for guidance and wisdom to do right, not to wrong others because she was tried and tempted, but to suffer meekly, and wait with patience. In the fervor of her aspirations, the temptation to marry from pique and pride was put far away. Even Sam Grizzle had his rights, and she would not wed him, with no intention of making him happy. She resolved to wear no camelia to the party, but to make preparations to leave her home within the week for a long visit to Newburg.

It was with something of holy peace in her heart that she sat in her room, after the one o'clock Sabbath dinner, her Bible open in her lap, the pale November sunshine streaming through the window. While she sat thus, the sound of light wheels grated on the drive. Mr. Dassel, with a handsome little carriage and fast horse, was waiting for Milla, who came into her room, smiling, but very pale, to ask her how the new suit looked, and to kiss her “goodbye until tea-time."

"You look charmingly, Milla; it is very becoming to you. But how cold your hands are! You must take a thick shawl... you will need it before you returve.

Milla's dress and mantle were of some rich gray material, t:immed with velvet of the same color. The little gray felt

hat, with one gray and one scarlet plume, was as pretty as it could be, with her lovely golden hair floating out from under it, about her child-like, exquisite face.

"I wanted to kiss mother, but she is asleep," said Milla,-"no, I'm not cold-only a little excited. Good-bye, dear, darling Lissa ! ”

"I hope you will enjoy yourself as much as you anticipate, sister."

"Oh, I shall. I am very happy. The day is so beautiful-and did you see what a handsome little turn-out?"

"Yes; none too nice for you, Milla. But you are so pale-your hands tremble."

"I had such a shock last night; I've been trembling all day. But I must not keep Louis waiting. He may grow impatient."

"If he ever is impatient with her, I shall grow to hate him," mused Elizabeth, closing her door after the dear little deformed, beautiful sister, who flung a kiss to her from the stairs.

She did not look to see them drive away in the sunny afternoon. She only reopened her Bible, forcing herself to read in it, at first mechanically, until she felt the meaning of the words, and was comforted by its promises.

It was dark when Mr. Dassel set Milla down in the vestibule of her father's

house. If it had not been so dark, Mr. Cameron could have seen that his horse was sweating, as if he had been driven far and rapidly.

"I did not think you would be out so late. I am afraid you have taken cold, my child."

"No, mother, I am not cold. Louis went further than I expected; the roads were so fine and the air so bracing. We had a shawl."

As Milla came into the full blaze of the lighted library, where a small fire had been kindled in the grate in anticipation of her being chilly, and whose lamps were all burning, she did not seem to have suffered from the nightair. Her eyes were flashing, her cheeks red, her whole face radiated light.

Her father drew her down on his knee, complimenting her on her new dress. She doffed her little gray hat, leaned her head on his shoulder, and fell into a deep reverie.

"There's Louis," she presently exclaimed, before any one else had heard his step. "He will take tea with us, mamma. Let us have it here, in the library. It is so pleasant, with this fire."

Her whim was humored. Tea was brought into the library. The family long remembered how beautiful, how gay, their darling was that evening.

V kn