for talking to his niece. It was not a matter, as he thought, in which there was need for any grea

rge, she has kept it very mu

to themselves,'

s lovelorn. I don't believe a bit of it; and as for him, all the time he h

when I saw him, quite du

if he cares for us? It isn't o

'I never see her speak a word to any of the young

esolved that he would have it all out

s; but the sweet vestiges of summer remain, and everything without doors is pleasant and friendly, and there is the gentle unrecognised regret for the departing year, the unconscious feeling that its glory is going from us, to add the inner charm of a soft melancholy to the outer luxury of the atmosphere. I doubt whether Michel Voss had ever realised the fact that September is the kindliest of all the months, but h

into a saw-mill as they went up, and counted the scantlings of timber that had been cut; and Michel looked at the cradle to see that it worked well, and to the wheels to see that they were in good order, and observed that the channel for the water required repairs, and said a word a

ut the work of the men. They were not so careful in barking the logs as they used to be, and upon the whole he thought that the wood itself was of a worse quality. What is there that we do not find to be deteriorating around us when we consider the things in detail, though we are willing enough to admit a general improvement? 'Yes,' said he, in answer to some remarks from Marie, 'we must take it, no doubt, as God gives it to us, but we need not spoil it in the handling. Sit down, my

Uncle

ps I, or your aunt, should have spoken to you firs

you thought well of it; or, at

your object

Urmand, uncle;-at le

. You would not accept him

d not acc

my dear,-if h

unc

Is he not a go

that is,

ness. I do not know wha

uncle,-except not t

ose your good looks, and become an old woman on our hands. You are a pretty girl, Marie, and fit to be any man's wif

est, and I know that yo

n a better way of business than any man, old or young, that comes into Granpere. He has a house in Basle, and money

d took hold of his arm and presse

me,' she said, 'and I wa

ttle that between us, and I will go bail there shall be no unpleasant words. As I said before, my girl sha'n't leave my house empty-handed; but, Lord bless you, he would only be too happy to take

word, uncle, eithe

Michel Voss, who was beginning

tay at home with

both

All girls do not get married. I

l, getting up. 'If you're a good g

to be married to a man

's just the man that all the girls

iberty, and now she was unreasonable. Marie, who, in spite of her devotion to her uncle, was beginning to think that she

Marie, in a

was a frown on her brow and a look of sorrow mixed with anger on her face. But Michel Voss did not see her face. He looked straight before him as he spoke, and was flinging chips of wood to a distanc

od girl to accept a m

sed a moment for an answer. 'Tell me,' he continued, with almost angry en

a moment, and then she

is n

unc

you not marry

r him. Why won't you let

is niece's benefit that she should marry this young trader; and he thought also that it was his duty as her uncle and guardian to be round with her, and make her understand, that as her friends wished it, and as the young trader himself wished it, it was her duty to do as she was desired. Another uncle and

named Josephine, and was generally called Aunt Josey) 'and the children. I could not

of use in the hou

uld you want to

et a fitting man to take her? What would the neighbours say of me if we kept you at home to drudge for us, instead of settli

ie. 'Who cares for the neighbours? If you and

ghbours,' said Mich

use of the neighbours, Uncle Michel?' asked Marie, w

ng to such provision as he might make. And then this marriage was undoubtedly a good marriage-a match that would make all the world declare how well Michel Voss had done for the girl whom he had taken under his protection. It was a marriage that he could not bear to see go out of the family. It was not probable that the young linen-merchant, who was so well to do in the world, and who, no doubt, might have his choice in larger places than Granpere-it was not probable, Michel thought, that he

d,' he said at last. 'I didn't think tha

and then they began to wa

bring himself to scold her properly,-and she following close behind his shoulder, when he stopped suddenly and asked her a question which came from the

forward a moment, and answering

stand it. I can't indeed. Has Ur

ing,

aid an

ended. Of course I am much oblig

I shouldn't be doing my duty if I didn't tell you that you must get over it. He will be here again

liking a marriage between his son and his wife's niece. When he had first thought that they were going to be lovers, under his nose, without his permission,-going to commence a new kind of life between themselves without so much as a word spoken to him or by him,-he had found himself compelled to interfere, compelled as a father and an uncle. That kind of thing could never be allowed to take place in a well-ordered house without the expressed sanction of the head of the household. He had interfered,-rather roughly; and his son had taken him a

e this man or that, if her friends wished it-and if she could bring herself to endure the proposed marriage. But at present her troth was plighted to George Voss; and where her troth was given, there was her heart also. She could understand that such a circumstance, affecting one of so little importance as herself, should be nothing to a man like her uncle; but it was ev

uld never permit George and her to be man and wife? And did she not owe everything to her uncle? And was it not the duty of a girl to obey her guardian? Would not all the

not, my dear?' She was silent. 'Come, Marie, yo

cle,-I w

iumphed; and poor Marie returned broken-hearted, for she was aware