read as the letters she had been accustomed to. The other books were the four Gospels in French (Les quatre Saints Evangiles), and an Atlas, with the maps raised upon the same principle. No such books could be got in England at that time, and her kind grandpapa had caused them to be sent over from France for her especial use.

Oh, how delighted she was! Here was a

treasure of whose existence even she had no idea. Her hands were trembling with excitement, and tears of pleasure were streaming down her flushed cheeks, as her grandpapa entered the room. He had witnessed the whole scene through the half-opened door, and his benevolent heart was quite as full as Maud's.

"Come, Maudie, we must have no further attempt at lessons to-day," he said, as she threw her arms round his neck; "we must have no reading or anything else in that line. Let us shut up the study, and if you particularly want these large books, we can take them down stairs."

So Maud spent the rest of the morning in various romps with Bustle, and decking him out with ribbons,-in helping Mrs. Jackson in her arrangements (she called it help, though nothing

that she could do would further Mrs. Jackson's plans much), and in bringing branches of laurel to dress up the kitchen, for Mary Green and one or two others of Maud's village friends and acquaintance were to take tea with the servants in the evening. Then she sat down to the piano for a time, and rambled through half a score of wild melodies, some of them old favourites and others the effusions of her own fancy. And many times, in spite of Mr. Ashton's prohibition of the lessons, her fingers stole over a page of one of her books, just to try how far she could read and understand it. Then, after dinner, Ellen came according to promise, and Maud and she were soon fully occupied together. She shared Maud's delight at her grandpapa's present, especially as the type was such that she could read with her eyes while Maud read with her fingers. She was not so advanced in French as Maud, who, from frequent exercise in reading and writing it, and still more frequent practice in speaking it with Mr. Ashton, had acquired considerable proficiency in it. It would be a great pleasure for them to read these books together.

They all had a long ramble in the fields in

the pleasant afternoon of that October day. Maud could not see how beautiful the landscape looked, with the various tints of the changing foliage, and the strong rich colouring of the autumn sky; but she heard the admiring exclamations of the others, and thought and felt how glorious they must be. They came past the dear old beech-tree-dear to them all, and to Mr. Ashton united with so many delightful remembrances. They must not sit upon the bank now, for the moss is very damp, and turning brown; a dozen squirrels scamper off as they approach, disturbed at their merry banquet on the beech-nuts, the shells of which crack crisply beneath their feet as they walk under its branches.

"A pleasant place to sit in summer," Mr. Ashton said, "but rather aguish now. What a fine old tree it is! How many changes have taken place in this world of men since this beechtree was a sapling! And it will stand here, perhaps, when you and I are laid low, girls; and somebody else will come, and admire, and talk like we do of the changes it has seen."

"How old do you think it is, then, grandpapa?"

"I cannot judge, my dear. These trees are