Rookstone Priory.

nothing , but receiving instruction in return for otherwise unremunerated service . "My uncle , " she said , simply and truthfully , " is very poor , and the only relation that I know in tho world . He is very clover , although so poor . Ho was my

dear papa ' s only brother ; and when lie died—papa , I mean—ho loft me to the care of Uncle Richard , who ever since has been just as good as a father to me . I don't remember my mother—she died years ago . I only know that shewhen

, quite a girl , married my father—her father ' s curate—and in consequence was never forgiven by liev friends and relatives for doing what they , in their anger , considered disgraceful . I believe she might have married a rich man—I think he was a

baronet—had she so cared ; henco her friends' displeasure . But Uncle Richard has made it all up to me . My holidays were always spent with him and his wife , who is a sad invalid ! It was ho who gave me tho money ami my things to come to

Rookstone with . Without my uncle , my life would indeed have been a blank . It makes my heart ache to think of him—so clever , and yet so poor . "

All this , and much more , did Alice West artlessly tell Lowndes Forrester , as she sat with him b y the fire , in tho light of waxen tapers , Aunt Jem , in her arm chair opposite , snoring gently at intervals . Never-could he have imagined , Lowndes

thought to himself ; a girl so unaffected and winsome . "I am sure she must be beautiful , " mused he . _ "Would she , I wonder , think me impertinent were I to Miss A \ est " he saidsuddenl"will grant tiie '

, y , you a favour ]" She looked surprised . " A favour , Mr . Forrester ? Certainty , if I can . " " You can , if you will . " " Mil }* I ask you what it is f inquired she

. "I want you to kneel before me on the hearth-rug . I should like " "To kneel before you on the hearthrug 1 " she repeated , in undisguised amazement .

"Hush ! " said Lowndes , lowering his voice and smiling at the girl ' s p ^ \ tones . "You will wake Mrs . Lorrimore . I do not wish you to do that . "

" I am very sorry , " Miss West answered , with a little contrite laugh ; " but you astonished me , Mr . Forrester . " ' " I am blind , " said Lowndes , gently . She understood him then ; she came and knelt down at his foot . Lifting her face ,

she waited to see what ho would do . As she had guessed , he passed his hands slowly over her features—passed them over with a strange soft eagerness . He took them off with a sigh . " You are beautiful , " he said .

She rose from her knees , and went back to her seat ; the earnest , truthful compliment brought tho blood to her cheeks . She bent her head low , forgetting for the moment that he could not see her blushes . " And now I am going to question you . Will -you answer me 1 " " Yes . "

" Your features are straight , " said Lowndes ; " your forehead low and wide ?' Alice nodded . " "Wh y don't you say whether I am ri ght or wrong ] " asked Lowndes . She had forgotten that those dark eyes opposite wore sightless .

" Yes , 3 es , " she answered , hurriedly , while a vast pity was filling her breast , and a choking sensation in her throat sent a quick rush of tears to her own beautiful eyes ; " you arc right . " Mr . Forrester looked pleased . " Yoiiv face is oval , " he went on— " oval and very fair . " " Yes . "

" And now , " « aid he , " you must tell me tho rest , and then I shall know exactly what you are like . You are not tall ]" " No ; I am five feet and two inches . " "Your eyes are large , I know . Arc they gray , blue or black ?" "No , " laughed she , softly . "I think

you would call them violet . " " And your hair waves , and you wear it low on your forehead V "Yes , " she said ; " and tho colour of it is the colour of the outside of a nut—at least , so the girls used to tell mo at school . Can you imagine what I am like , Mr . Forrester ]"

" I know exactly what you are like , " ho replied , with his simple earnestness ; " as I told you just now , you are very beautiful . ; ' ' The entrance of a servant bearmg the tea-urn put an end to this rather novel fete a , tete , the homely musical clatter of