“‘He’ ought to be very good to me to be taking me from a place where I’ve been treated like as I’ve been here,” reflected Pollie when Mrs. Challoner had left the kitchen. “And here I’d have been for years, maybe—and maybe for ever—and certain never in no such hurry would I have jumped at any journeyman tailor, if it hadn’t been for that Mrs. Brand a-shaking of her head and saying I must be prepared for changes—and them soon too—she feared the master wasn’t for long, and it was a good thing the mistress had their house to turn to. And when a woman’s getting nigh thirty and changes begins to—to be talked about, it comes as a sort of Godsend when she’s asked to change her name! But how I’ll get along without Master Hugh, it beats me to know!”
That night Lucy Challoner never closed her eyes.
(To be continued.)
[HER KINGDOM OF DREAMS.]
By EDITH RUTLAR.
She saw the storm sweep down the length of the street,
And the year, growing old, dash his tears on the pane;
She heard the dull patter of wet little feet