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smile of welcome were sweeter than ever. We had endless talks together of all that I had done and seen, and of the charms and sweetness of the baby. The next morning, Miss Clay came to see us, and, after duly admiring the new comer, went near the couch on which my mother lay, and bent down to kiss her. My mother, usually so quiet and reserved, put her arms round my dear friend's neck and kissed her several times, then said very warmly, "God bless you, dear! I was sure it would be so, and I hope you will be very, very happy for many a long year." I wondered what these words might mean, but my curiosity was not gratified till a few days later, when I was spending the morning at our neighbours' as usual, and an old Jew from Calcutta came into the verandah, and spread before us a number of embroidered white dresses. Miss Clay selected two or three for herself, and then, taking a child's frock from the heap, put it into my hands.

"This is for you, Clary," she said, "and I will tell you by and by on what occasion you are to wear it." So when the old Jew had packed up his goods and departed, she told me that ere long she was to be married, and that I must be one of her bridesmaids, and wear the worked frock she had given me. I was too much surprised to speak for some time, and I

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could not tell whether I was glad or sorry, so I stood with my head on Miss Clay's shoulder. "Well, Clary," she said, drawing me round, so that she could see my face; "won't you say you wish I may be happy, as your dear mother did? Don't you want to know any more about it ?"

I always felt shy when my feelings were much moved, and now they almost choked me, so that I could not utter a word of the love I felt. There was no need, for I was with one who could read my heart. She kissed me and went on speaking: "We shall still be friends, Clary, just the same. I shall be away for a little while, and then come back to live here, and my husband will be very kind to you. Can you guess his name?"

"Oh! do I know him ?" I cried, and then an idea flashed upon me. It must be Mr. Collier, and there was no one in all the little world of my acquaintance I should have liked so well. My conjecture was right, and my mind soon grew accustomed to the prospect of this new change.

The days passed on. The old Chinese shoemaker came with spectacles on nose, and huge umbrella under his arm, to measure me for a pair of white kid shoes. My frock was made, and a dainty little white bonnet had been sent from England among Miss Clay's own

millinery. At our neighbours', all was busy preparation, for, though Miss Clay wished her wedding to be very quiet, yet when she saw that for it to be so would vex and mortify her father, she sacrificed her wishes to his, as it had ever been her custom to do. The old Indian officer loved a little display, so there was to be a great gathering of all the society, now returned to spend the cool season at Bombay.

The evening before the wedding, Miss Clay came across to see my mother. My father had not yet returned from the fort, baby was asleep on Mrs. Armstrong's lap in the next room, and all was very quiet. Miss Clay threw aside her hat and took a low seat beside the couch, while I nestled on the floor at her feet.

"The last evening!" said my mother, laying her hand caressingly on the golden hair I thought so beautiful. "The last evening that Anne Clay will ever sit beside me in this quiet room, which she has so often made happy. You have done much for me and mine, dear. God bless you for it!"

"Not half what you have done for me," was the reply; "and believe me, Anne Clay's friends will only be dearer to Anne Collier."

"Among all the beautiful presents which Clary tells me you have received, I have not had courage to offer

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