A. L. O. E.'s picture story book.

by A. L. O. E.

"O sir, I am the child of Ernst Seele," she replied with a blush. "The lord of the Castle has been good, oh, so very good to my father, and I want to give him my dove, just to show how thankful I feel."

"Do you think that the lord of the Castle would value your bird?" asked the stranger, smiling kindly down on the child.

"I dare say that he has many more, and perhaps prettier birds," said poor Grace, and she looked wistfully at her covered basket as she spoke; "but Heartslove is so tame, so gentle—she will come at my call, and eat crumbs from my lips—he cannot have a more loving little dove. And then, sir, she is all that I have to give; so, perhaps, the great lord will not despise her."

"No; I will answer for it that the lord of the Castle will prize your bird dearly," answered the stranger, and his voice sounded so tender and loving that it seemed to Grace as if a father had spoken. "Give me your basket, my child; I will see that the dove reaches safely him to whom you would give it—he will most surely accept and value it for your sake."

Grace opened the basket, and pressed down her rosy lips to give one parting kiss to her Heartslove. She then closed down the lid, and with simple trust handed the basket to the stranger, who had opened the gate to take in her little present. The child then, after thanking him and dropping a curtsey, turned away from the gate.

Grace felt pleased to think that she had done what was right, that she had at least proved her wish to be grateful; and the remembrance of the noble stranger's smile lay warm at the little girl's heart. She liked to recall his words, "I will answer for it that the lord of the Castle will prize your bird dearly."

During the rest of that day Grace never spoke of her dove, though she thought of it often. Her parents were far too much occupied with their business to think of it at all, and, what was far more strange, not a word of gratitude towards their most generous benefactor was heard either from Seele or his wife. In the greatness of his gift, they seemed quite to have forgotten the giver. Grace alone resolved in her heart that not a morning or evening should pass without her blessing the name of the friend who had saved them all from ruin; and she smiled to herself as she thought of her gentle white dove nestling upon his bosom.

On the following day, as the family sat round the table at breakfast, talking over the purchases which Seele had made through the help of the lord of the manor, there was heard the tap of a bill at the window.

"Oh! It's my dove—it's my own Heartslove; she has flown back again to her old home!" exclaimed Grace, starting up from her seat, and running to open the window.

The child took the bird in, kissed and fondled it. Pleasant it was to her to stroke again the downy plumage, and to hear the coo of her pet.