Meanwhile Wenna, apparently quite calm, went on down the road, but there was no more laughing in her voice, no more light in her face.
"Miss Wenna," said the smaller of the two children, who could not understand this change, and who looked up with big, wondering eyes, "why does oo tremble so?"
[TO BE CONTINUED.]
SONNET.
The curious eye may watch her lovely face,
Whereon such rare and roseate tinctures glow,
And cry, How fair the rose and lily show
Mid all the glories of a maiden grace!
If this sweet show, this bloom and tender glance,