flying back to a plundered nest, which it had left brimful of chirping young ones, express more complete despair, in its anguished cries and flutterings, than she by her single ‘Oh!’ and the change that transfigured her late happy countenance. Mr. Linton looked up.

‘What is the matter, love? Have you hurt yourself?’ he said.

His tone and look assured her HE had not been the discoverer of the hoard.

‘No, papa!’ she gasped. ‘Ellen! Ellen! come up-stairs - I’m sick!’

I obeyed her summons, and accompanied her out.

‘Oh, Ellen! you have got them,’ she commenced immediately, dropping on her knees, when we were enclosed alone. ‘Oh, give them to me, and I’ll