Rank Imposes Obligation

" Hang Miss Ashurst !" "Oh, rhil!" " Well, I can't help it. Why does she come tospoileverything? Don'tlknow how it will be ? - ahvays Miss Ashurst to j be considered, taken about, included in everything. No more drives and rows, just yon and me, Amy; no more evenings on ths door-step. I declare l've a great mind to go over to Uncle Phil's af Goshen for a month." " Now, Phil, please (coaxingly). " It j won;t be so bad as you think. Besides, yon may like her very mnch. Mother sayi her mother -was the greatest beauty in Connecticut. " " She isn't a beauty, though; I'll bet ! on that. A talking, writing, society j woman - I hate the kind. Amy, will you go out for a row ? We'll have one more : while the boat is all our own." This eonfabvdation was held on either , side of tho Wiüow Mauran's garden gate - a model gate for purposes of conversation, just high enongh and wide j enough to accommodate two pairs of j elbows, and allow the owners of the elbows to look easily into each other's i eyes. Phil smiled into Amy's as he i swung wide the banier. He offered his arm, sho took it, and they sauntered ' down to the shore. They were a I turesque couple to look at. Tall Piiil, in spite oí lus momentary ill-temper, possessed a frank, handsome face, lit with fine eyes and the sweetest of smiles; while little Amy's modest, wild-flower beauty was exquisite in its way. Second cousiñs, intímate friends, all but declared lovers, it was a pleasant matter of course ■ that they should be alwaystogether; and in spite of Amy's disclaimers, she was at j the bottom of her heart as sorry as Phil j at this intemiption to their tete-a-tete - as sorry or soi-rier; for blended with her regret was the instinctivo i sion of a girlish heart, whioh, pledged in fact though not in name, grieves with j the uuspoken dread that some other Í woman may yet pass by to snatch from '. her very lips the eoveted untasted cup in whose depth lies, or seems to lie, all j the best sweetness of coming life. It ] was a comfort to have Philip so cross abont it, however; and in the eft'ort to j soothe him, she, woman-like, forgot her j ewn annoyance. So the evening ended ! happily. Next day broTiglit the expected guest. Amy's lirst glance sent her heart to i quaking again. Never had she seen a woman in the least like this. Rose j Aslrarst was one of those bom j resses who reign not only by intention, bnt by right. Her beauty would have : been remarkable had not her charm been more remarkable. Her wit and j talent were balanced by a sweet humor which pervaded every word and act, aud I flavored all with fascination. ïact, ! culture, the perfect self-possession i which verges upon self-forgetfulness, i lont their aid to complete her attraction. And all was real. There was no pretense about Miss Ashurst. The kind looks which beamed from her beautiful eyes sprung from a kind heart. She threw herself into the interest of every human creature ,.who approached her with a warmth bom of true sympathy. No wonder she was popular. Popularity hardly spoiled her. She received her daily ovations as a matter of course, half indifferently, half gratefully, but always with a modest grace whieh enhanced her effect. A dangerous woman this to bring into propinquity with susceptible ! youths. Poor Amy ! But Amy, too, feit the charm. The ; dazzling brown eyes which had bewitclied so many hearts worked their spell upon lier's at once, and she lent delighted aid Í in settling the new oomer and her I longings. This month in Pemigewasset was a sudden whim of Miss Ashurst's. j She wanted quiet and a place to write in, and the old homestead in which her j great-grandmother was bom seeming to : meet these conditions, she wrote to offer herself as an iumate ; and Mis. Mauran, i who was glad to add to her small income by an occasional boarder, gave pleased consent. All manner of pretty things came out . of the trunks to adorn the j simple chamber. Miss Ashnrst could not livo without artistic surroundings, ■ and traveled always with photographs, ; sketches, boofcs, small articles of virtu, and bits of bright color in this or that. These disposed on walls and table, with daintily frilled and embroidered covers laid over the old' fashioncd pillows, an easel with its can: vasea aud oil-tubes in one corner (Miss Aslmrstpainted pictures), a writing-table exquisitely arranged drawn into the win dow (Miss Ashurst wrote books), asweet! faced Madonna painted on ivory, a few flowers grouped in a classic vase, made tlie honiely keeping-room chamber over ! into a bower of romance, simple Amy thought. Shc stood as in a dream, inhaling the perfume of a wide luxurious lii'e, of a whole worltl of seneations imd Í sights unknown till now, and scarcely oomprehended. "There!" said MÍ6S Ashurst, giving the last touch to her vase of clematís and rosos, " iiow I shall do beaiitifully. What ! . a pleasaiit room this is ! The very j ; posuro I like best, and such a sweet view ! i It is just the room to work in. I am glad your uiother let me come, Amy. I may cali you Amy, may I not ! We are i tives, you know - far away, but still relatives." "Oh yes, please do," cried Amy. " Every one calis me so." " How lovely she is ! was hor soliloquy i uS slifi went down stairs. " I wonder what Phil will think of her? He willbe i surprised, I'm sure, but he must admire her ; he can't help it. " She watched the expression of his eyeB i at toatime, bnt it told lier nothing. Phil lely Boke, Ho looked at Miss 1 Ashvirst a great, deal, but Amy could only I guess what the looks meant. " Well ?" she said, interrogatively, as tliey met on the door-steps after tea. " Well," responded Pliil. "What do you think? Isn't slio pretty ?" "Pretty!" with an indignant iuflection. " Why, Phil, how can you help thinking so ?" " Pretty is not the word at all. She is Buperb - beautiful. " " I thought you would think so," said Ainy, cheerfully, but with a little stricture at her heart. " Yes. She's not my style, of course; but she is a woman in a thousand. No wonder she has been such a belle all her life." " I'm so glad you admire her. Now you won't mind her being here, and you'll bj polite to her, won't you, Phil?" "Oh, yes; 111 do whateveryou wish," replied Phil, with a carelessness which was half affected. "She's not Philip's style," whispered Amy to her pillow that night, and feil asleep with the talismanic sentenco on her lips. " Alas, how casily tnings go wrong ! A word too much, or a kias too long. And there f al'e h a mist and a blinding rain, And life is never tlie eamc again," sings George Maodonald. Things went "wrong" in little Amy's world during the next fortnight. Was it only the prescience of coming inists which darkened the blue, and made the days sad ? Was it only foolish jealousy, or wis it something tangible ? She made herself miserable over these questions. She scolded herself, but scolding did no good ; the wruni;, hurt f eeling would not leave her. And yet why was she hurt ? Was it not natural and right that Philip should be attentive to their guest, who had on him, as on her, the claim of kindred blood - this guest who was so charming ? Por Amy never denied the charni; she feit it herself too strongly. Was it not the very thing she had asked him to do? Yes; but yet - but yet - All these reflections ended by deepening the vague unhappiness. Night after night she sat alone on the door-step and watched the boat glide off into the moonlight; Phil at the oars, Miss hurst with the tiller ropes in her white hands. " Come with us," they always said; but when she murmured an excuse, they passed on cheerfully without her. Yes, it had come to that: Philip went without her, and liked it just as well ! The world - her world - had changed. Would it ever be " the same again?" Philip was in a tomporary dazzle of admiration ; he neither reasoned nor reflected. But for Miss Ashurst, no slightest glimpse of the trutli had crossed her mind. She thought Amy a sweet, pretty child, but shy, and busy with household matters, as the only daughter of a widow in poor circumstances must naturally be. For Phil, he was charming ; she liked him best when alone- the truth being that a slight easy consciousness made him awkward when in company with the old love, with whom he was somehow a little " off," I and the new, with whoin he was not ! fairly "on." So Miss Ashurst was not sorry when Amy refused to join in the moonlight rows, and knowing nothing of what had. goDe bef ore, it did not strike her as unusual or make her question. He and Amy were as brother and sister, she reflected. So her eyes being sealed by ignorance, and Pliil's blinded as by a sudden spell, Amy's pale cheeks and woful looks passed unheeded, except by one pair of eyes which were not sealed, namely, her mother's. Mrs. Mauran was a quiet person ; but her quiet concealed strength and a power reading character. Instinctively she " took stock "of all persons with whom she came into contact, and her instinct rarely íailed. A bitter experience had taught her how " easy things go wrong" in this world of ouis, and though she "hated to meddle," and was sorry to lose her boarder, she resolved to appeal to the sweetness and nobility which she feit were the underlying stratum of Miss Ashurst's nature. It was in this wise that she accomplished her purpose : Miss Ashurst and Phil had been off on a drive prolonged into late twilight. Tea was over. Phil had strolled down to the villago after the mail, and Mrs. Mauran sat beside her guest in the shaded porch. " Where is Amy ?" asked Miss Ashurst. " Gone to bed with a bad headache," said Mrs. Mauran. "Aheadachs? I am so sorry ! Isn't j there something out of my medicine case i which would relieve her ? - pulsatilla, ] perhaps, or iris." Miss Ashurst was a devoted homeopath. ' ' I think there is something. Not out of your case, however," replied Mrs. Mauran, quietly. " WJiat can you mean ?" " My dear Miss Ashurst, may I speak ! frankly to you about something that is on my mind ? And will you not think me unkind or inrpertment?" " I am quite sure you could be nei; ther." " I want to teil you alittle story wliich concerns Phil and Amy." "Philand Amy!" "Yes. They are second cousins, as you know. Phil's father was my most intímate friend, and the children wcre naturally brought up together. Last spring Phil, who trusts rae as if I were his mother, begged my leave to ask Amy to be his wife." She paused a moment. Miss Ashurst said nothing, only leanod forward a littie and listened. ' ' I told him tliat Amy was so young that he had better wait a fcw months beforo he said anything. I wish I hadn't." "Why?" "Idon'tknow why. It might have been better. Sinee that time Phil has seen a woman a littie older, far more beautiful, than my littie girl, rieher in ail that lif e has to give, but not rieher as far as he ia concerned, for she lias no love to give him, and Amy has. If she lind, if she conld, I should not speak. If I did not kuow that she is as truc and í as good as she is beautiful, I should not speak. As it is, I do." There ws another pause. " My dear Mrs. Mauran - thank you," said Miss Ashurst, at last. " You were ! right to speak. I have made mischief, I but without knowing it. You are sure oí that, I hope." " I am sure of it." " Phil is a "charming person. I like i him extremely, and of coursa I saw that he - liked me. But I never thought of ! it as a serious thing. A groat many other people have feit the same, and have gotten over it." "Philwillget over it also. Ho has i lovcd you but three wcks, and Amy i three years. It is a glamour, wliich will wear off." Miss Ashurst smiled still, but less brigktly. It is not pleasant to be agreed with so cordially in mattersof tlm kind. i "Yes," she said ; " it is, as you say, a glamour. It will üsappeav as I disapi pear. And the sooner that disappearance takes place the better. I sliall have a letter thifl evening which will oblige me to leave you day after to-morrow. Will that do ?" "My dear Miss Aslmrst, my dear kinswoman, believe me when I say that I am truly sorry that anything must make you go. You are what I thought, what I trusted, aaid I thank you with all my heart." "And I thauk you for trusting me," replied Miss Ashurst. But after she went up-stairs her face changed. Long she stood at the window looking out at the dim-tinted sea. ' ' It has been very nice, ' ' she whispered to herself at last. " But this is foolish. I must goto bed." Miss AshurBt's letter of reeall carne, and on the day fixed she ieft. Amy, dazed, as it were, by this sudden departure, reproached herself heartily for feeling glad. This reproach deepened into remorse wbsn, tlie farewells spoken and the beautiful radiant presonce vanished, she foiuid her walls and table ornamented with good-by gifts. Tliere were tho photographs she had most admired, the books, even the Madonna, ivory-painted and velvet-swung, all Ieft for her by her sweet-hearted rival. A mist of penitent tears dimmed her eyes ; but in spite of penitence and of tears, she was glad. For Phil, the rattle of the wheels which bore his charmer away was like the sound which breaks sharply into sonie fantastic dream. Melaphorieally speaking, he rnbbecl his eyes. For a day or two he hung about, vacant and listless ; then he roused, as desirous to piek up dropped j threads again. Somehow Amy was more difficultof approach thanof y ore. Alittle veil rested between them. She was not always to be had when wanted. We j value what we work for, what we hold with some trembling senae of insecurity. As weeks went on, Phil grew to prize Amy more than ever. The knowledge that he had half lost her intensified his love. It required months to win his way back to the old p'.ace. But at last - " And you are quite, quite sure that you care most for me?" whispered Amy, saucily, the night after their engagement. "Most? Altogether, you mean. There is no other. " " Not even Miss Ashurst?" " Not even Miss Ashurst ; thongh " - and Phil lifted his cap as before a queen - "she is a stunner, a real lady, every inch of her, and as good as she is beau tiful. Blessher!" And bless her, say we.