" Oh, mamma, I've had an adventure this even- ing. The air was exhilarating, the birds sang so gayly, and all nature seemed so blithe and happy, that I, too, took wing, and flew, rather than walked, this way and that, unheeding, in truth not caring, where the lovely crooked ways led me ; until suddenly I came upon a small cottage by the roadside. It w\as nestled just under the hill, and was a very bird's-nest for coziness. I came upon it from the rear, through a garden all aglow Avith red roses and carnation-pinks, and had almost walked into the house before I realized what I was doing. The door stood open, and looking out at me amazed, as well they might be, were a pair of large brown eyes. So earnest and beseeching was their gaze that I stood spell-bound, like one dazed or in a dream. The owner of these marvellous eyes was a young girl who seemed an 60 COOKING AND CASTLE-BUILDING. invalid, as she reclined on a lounge beside which the small supper-table was placed. Another lady sat at the table with her back toward me. A look or low-spoken word from the sick girl directed this lady's attention to me, and she came out and invited me in to rest. I didn't care to rest, but I did care to learn something of this brown-eyed beauty who seemed sick and sad. But no, I think I am wrong there ; her eyes only had a wistful look, as if asking, pleading for some- thing they dared not hope to gain ; but her voice was cheerful and her laugh free and joy- ous. Yet she suffers a great deal, and has been for years confined to her lounge by some affection of the spine. Mamma, I think you made a mis- take in writing your novel before I discovered this lovely heroine." Emeline responded — "By the way, Kate, did I tell you of ^My lord' and his mother whom we met last summer in Switzerland ? We talked with them upon several occasions, yet did not learn tlieir name or the land of their nativity. I thought them Ameri- cans from their manners and speech, but Alice insisted that they were English. She imagined him to be an English lord, Hhe last of his race,' and that, she thought, accounted for their deep mourning and great dejection." "No," I answered, while a vague suspicion FOOD AND FANCY. 61 crossed my mind, "you have never spoken of them to me, but I am interested. Describe them more fully. What Avere they like in personal appearance ? " " Very much like each other,' both having the same dark, deep eyes — eyes that remind you of bottomless wells of pure water, with shadows lingering about them hinting of sunshine. He was twenty-live or thirty years of age, and she old enough to be his mother. His hair was dark, and rippled or waved back from his forehead, while hers was so white that it reminded one of a fleecy cloud floating about her foce." "Was she slightly lame?^' I asked. "Yes," answered Emeline ; "how came you to guess that grace belonged to her ? " " Perhaj)s my question was the ofi'spring of your remembrance," I answered, evasively. "And Alice thought him a hero, did she? And in her visions of romance she has no doubt visited his ancestral home, his lordly domain? How is it, my dear, do you dream of him still ? " A rosy flush swept over her fair face as she answered :

AI-modernized reading of the original text

" Oh, mamma, I've had an adventure this evening. The air was exhilarating, the birds sang so gayly, and all nature seemed so blithe and happy, that I, too, took wing, and flew, rather than walked, this way and that, unheeding, in truth not caring, where the lovely crooked ways led me ; until suddenly I came upon a small cottage by the roadside. It was nestled just under the hill, and was a very bird's-nest for coziness. I came upon it from the rear, through a garden all aglow with red roses and carnation-pinks, and had almost walked into the house before I realized what I was doing. The door stood open, and looking out at me amazed, as well they might be, were a pair of large brown eyes. So earnest and beseeching was their gaze that I stood spell-bound, like one dazed or in a dream. The owner of these marvellous eyes was a young girl who seemed an invalid, as she reclined on a lounge beside which the small supper-table was placed. Another lady sat at the table with her back toward me. A look or low-spoken word from the sick girl directed this lady's attention to me, and she came out and invited me in to rest. I didn't care to rest, but I did care to learn something of this brown-eyed beauty who seemed sick and sad. But no, I think I am wrong there ; her eyes only had a wistful look, as if asking, pleading for something they dared not hope to gain ; but her voice was cheerful and her laugh free and joyous. Yet she suffers a great deal, and has been for years confined to her lounge by some affection of the spine. Mamma, I think you made a mistake in writing your novel before I discovered this lovely heroine." Emeline responded — "By the way, Kate, did I tell you of ^My lord' and his mother whom we met last summer in Switzerland ? We talked with them upon several occasions, yet did not learn their name or the land of their nativity. I thought them Americans from their manners and speech, but Alice insisted that they were English. She imagined him to be an English lord, Hhe last of his race,' and that, she thought, accounted for their deep mourning and great dejection." "No," I answered, while a vague suspicion crossed my mind, "you have never spoken of them to me, but I am interested. Describe them more fully. What were they like in personal appearance ? " " Very much like each other,' both having the same dark, deep eyes — eyes that remind you of bottomless wells of pure water, with shadows lingering about them hinting of sunshine. He was twenty-live or thirty years of age, and she old enough to be his mother. His hair was dark, and rippled or waved back from his forehead, while hers was so white that it reminded one of a fleecy cloud floating about her face." "Was she slightly lame?" I asked. "Yes," answered Emeline ; "how came you to guess that grace belonged to her ? " " Perhaps my question was the offspring of your remembrance," I answered, evasively. "And Alice thought him a hero, did she? And in her visions of romance she has no doubt visited his ancestral home, his lordly domain? How is it, my dear, do you dream of him still ? " A rosy flush swept over her fair face as she answered :

Cooking and castle-building