If it be my lot to crawl, I will crawl contentedly; if to fly, I will fly with alacrity; but as long as I can help it, I will never be unhappy. -Sydney Smith.

It was a sunshiny morning in early April. Outside: a quaint, old-fashioned garden, with a great deal of green turf and bright spring flowers bordering evergreen shrubberies; inside: a low, long dining-room, with the breakfast table laid, and Olive Tracy standing at the open window, softly singing to herself, as she looked out on the dew-laden, sun-tipped lawn.

She was a tall, slight girl, with dark brown hair and Irish-blue eyes, eyes that seemed always full of hidden laughter, and a mouth with mischievous curves. Yet the face was a powerful one; there was determination in the firmly moulded chin, thoughtfulness in the clear brow.

Clad in a fresh, cotton shirt and dark blue skirt, with a bunch of yellow daffodils in her belt, she was not an inapt personification of spring itself.

Her attitude, as she now raised her head to watch the soaring of a lark outside, bespoke eager hope and gladness. Life seemed at the moment very fair; her young

I

veins throbbed with life, and the fresh, sweet world outside delighted her soul.

"Up with me! up with me into the clouds!

For thy song, lark, is strong;

Up with me! up with me into the clouds!

Singing, singing.

With all the heavens about thee ringing,

Lift me, guide me till I find

That spot which seems so to thy mind!"

She trilled the words out with careless joy, then started, as a bass voice near her echoed the last two lines. "Good-morning, Olive."

"Oh, how you startled me! Your Grace is not usually an early bird."

She greeted the newcomer, who had crossed the lawn unseen, and now stood outside the open window, with a sunny smile, then invited him in. He swung himself over the low sash with the easy privilege of an old friend, and then standing with his back to the fireplace, he looked her up and down rather gravely.

"You are the first down?"

"That is a most original observation."

He smiled, and his smile transformed his dark and somewhat rugged features. Tall and broad shouldered, with clear, honest, grey eyes, before which wrong-doers invariably quailed, Marmaduke Crofton could hardly be called a handsome man. "He is such a man!" was the highest praise ever offered him. And his mother was the only one who dared affirm that he had a "beautiful face."

"I shall keep my news till the rest of the family make their appearance."

"Is it good news?"

He looked at the spotless white cloth, the steaming silver urn, and the dainty breakfast service, with bowls of golden daffodils in the centre, and remarked:

"I think your breakfast is the nicest meal in the day." "Shall I tell you why you think so? It is because you feel so virtuous when you arrive in time for it. They say that early risers are exasperatingly complacent and self-satisfied. But here is mother; we never wait for Elsie, so now for your news!”

A gentle, fragile old lady in widow's dress entered as her daughter spoke, and greeted the young man very warmly.

"This is like old times, Duke. Do you remember when you and Mark would come running up the garden on your way to school, and beg for a slice of bread and honey or a hot scone, saying you were half-starved at home?"

"You were always too good to us," said Marmaduke Crofton, a kindly gleam coming into his grey eyes. ર Well, Mrs. Tracy, I passed the doctor's yesterday, and am off to town to-day to see about rejoining."

"Where is your battery now?"

"At Aldershot; but I am joining the th at the Cape.” Olive looked up quickly.

"Is that your doing or that of the War Office?" she asked.

"Mine entirely. I am going to exchange with Perry, who wants to come home."

"I wonder at your going abroad with your father so infirm," said Mrs. Tracy gently. "Does Lady Crofton approve?"

"Yes, I think she does. The fact is, I shall be close

to Mark, and he has been at a low ebb lately, and the mother is anxious I should see him. We are only stationed twenty miles off from his diggings."

"Always Mark," murmured Olive.

There was a silence, which was broken by the entrance of Elsie Tracy, a fair-haired girl, two years younger than Olive. She looked a little discomposed at seeing a visitor.

"I do hate surprises in the morning," she said, as having wished good-morning, she took her seat at the foot of the table with a wrinkled brow.

“Elsie takes a long time to recover full consciousness," said Olive, looking at her sister quizzically. "She wakes gradually, and takes till noon to do it. The process is trying to all!"

"You need not try to bring me into conversation," Elsie remarked indifferently. "My ears are always busier than my tongue. Is there any news?"

"Duke is going abroad," Mrs. Tracy remarked; then turning to the young man, she said, "Are you sure you are quite well again? It would be serious if you had a return of fever when you got out there."

"I have never felt better in my life," was the hearty reply. "A change of air and scene will be good for me. I have never been to the Cape; it will be a new experience."

"And how long does the battery stay there?"

"It is quite uncertain.

brewing out there."

I believe there is trouble

"You will be coming back with a Kaffir wife," said Olive, with a little laugh.

Marmaduke made no reply, but met her mischievous