PORTRAIT NO. VI.

KATE KEARNEY.

CHAPTER I.

THIS is fine house.

Pause a moment in front of

it. The heavy silk and lace hangings at the windows shut out a full view of the interior; but we can get a peep through that little opening, if we stoop a little. How cheerful every thing looks within. The lights burn brightly, and every face is beaming with smiles. What a large family! children of all ages. See them here and there in merry chat. There are an old lady and gentleman seated in one corner over a game of chess. Would you ever suppose from their placid brows, that the storms of life had tossed their bark? It has been tossed to and fro almost to sinking; but while the winds blew and the waves dashed high, the sweet voice, "It is I, be not afraid," was ever near them. They are now safely moored. Their children and grandchildren

gather around them, and are the comfort and bless. ing of their declining years. See that little brighteyed girl, dressed in white, leaning upon the lap of the old lady, looking up in her face with a smile. On the opposite side of the room from the chesstable are Mr. and Mrs. Edgerton, entering into the children's sport with a content and happiness which is only found in such a home. It is a delightful picture. Those merry peals of laughter are irresistible. We must join the little company.

"Take care, grandma," said "Chee Chee,”* the little fairy in white, who had received that pet name on account of her delicate beauty; "take care, I wouldn't have grandpapa beat you for my wax doll." Grandpapa laughed and caught her in his arms, and said the doll must be his now if he won the game, while she ran off for consolation to her sister Mary, a few years older, who was finishing an opera hood of white zephyr worsted for this same wax doll.

"Sister Mary, I love you, you are so kind to

me."

"Or to your doll?" replied Mary, laughing.

"To me, dear sister; don't you know I love you?" said Chee Chee, earnestly. Before Mary could reply the opera-hood was spirited away, and

* Indian for "Fairy."

for a moment not a sign of it could be seen; but the rogue Willie, who looked unnaturally demure, leaning against the mantle with an innocent, quiet countenance, must have stolen behind her and taken it out of her hand.

""Twas you, brother Willie; 'twas you!" said Chee Chee, "and now please give it to sister Mary." Willie had a little argument with her, which gave him time to steal slyly to the chess-table and deposit the stolen goods in grandmamma's pocket.

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Check," said the old lady, just as Willie had withdrawn his hand, which made him start and laugh heartily.

"Grandmama took it, Chee Chee," said Willie ; "look in her pocket."

"Oh, grandmamma!" said Chee Chee.

While these innocent little tricks were amusing the younger ones, three older children, Charles, a boy of sixteen, and two girls younger, Annie and Helen, were seated around a little table, listening to a German legend which Henry Edgerton, the oldest son, was reading aloud to them. Annie and Helen were embroidering; and now and then dropped their spools of floss under the table, which Willie drew away with a lasso made of light wire, and kept his post at the mantel, to see their astonishment at the sudden disappearance of their sewing materials; but unwilling to interrupt the read

All

ing, they bore the loss without remark. The rogue was caught at last. He attached his wire to a hat in the hall, and drew it in so dexterously that no one saw any thing more than the hat, in slow leaps coming across the parlor towards Willie. sprang to see the wonder, and Willie was hustled out of the room, amid screams of laughter from all, young and old. Quiet was again restored, and Willie "bound over to keep the peace."

Rose, the eldest daughter, was in the recess of the window, partly shaded from view by the heavy drapery that hung around her, in conversation with Clifford Howard, an old friend. She held in her hand a diamond ring of great value. "It is very beautiful," said Rose. "Isabella is worthy of it; when will you present it? Are you yet engaged?” Clifford Howard, who sat near her, looked in her

He

face astonished and pained by the question. He had long loved Rose, and could it be that she had mistaken his attentions to his cousin Isabella? could not believe it, and yet it must be so. dered by these and other reflections, he placed the ring in the case again and replied,

Bewil

"No, we are not engaged." Rose would have wished to believe that they never would be. She knew that Isabella loved Clifford with a devotion seldom seen, and from many circumstances she had reason to believe that Clifford was not indifferent