Four Gates by Amy Le Feuvre

"Am I wrong to be always so happy? This world is full of grief; Yet there is laughter of sunshine, to see the crisp green in the leaf. Daylight is ringing with song birds, and brooklets are crooning by night, And why should I make a shadow where God makes all so bright? Earth may be wicked and weary, yet cannot I help being glad; There is sunshine without and within me, and how should I mope or be sad? God would not flood me with blessings, meaning me only to pine Amid all the bounties and beauties He pours upon me and mine; Therefore will I be grateful, and therefore will I rejoice; My heart is singing within me! Sing on, O heart and voice! " WALTER SMITH.

"OH, mother, isn't it delicious to be home again!"

"I am sure, darling, you enjoyed London. You never seemed tired of going about. I envied you your spirits. Towns always tire me."

"And yet I could not drag you away from the shops," said Colonel Osborne, laughing good-humouredly at his wife.

They were sitting out on their lawn under the trees. Amabel presided at the tea-table, and made a pretty picture in her white gown, with her golden curls and radiant face. The Manor Cottage was half-way between the town of Gadsborough and the village of Criscombe.

Colonel Osborne had only his pension to live upon, and suffered a good deal from his eyes, but was always cheery. His wife was a gentle, placid woman whose one thought was how she could add to her husband's and daughter's happiness, and Amabel was the sunshine of the house. Everyone said that it was the happiest household in the neighbourhood.

Naughty Audrey would sometimes impatiently exclaim:

"I believe if they were in an earthquake the colonel would say, 'A pleasant break to our monotony!"

And certainly, if catastrophes did come, the Osbornes took them very lightly. The visit to London had lengthened from one month into two, and had been a great success.

Amabel had been taken everywhere by her aunt, and had made a great many fresh friends. Amongst them was a Captain Rutland, who had hardly ever left her side, and who had almost invited himself to spend a week-end with them very soon. Her father had assured him he would always be welcome, and perhaps it was the thought of this impending visit that had brought an added softness to Amabel's blue eyes and a deeper flush to her cheeks. As she lay back now in her lounge wicker chair and watched the shadows cross the bright flower-beds and dance across the lawn, as she glanced at the creeper-covered cottage with its casement windows and old-fashioned porch, the thought that rose uppermost in her heart and almost shaped itself into speech by her lips was:

"Oh, I hope he will like it, I hope he will like it!"

"I met Hume in the town to-day; he had driven in to get his hair cut," said Colonel Osborne, who had been into Gadsborough for the same purpose that morning. "What rages that fellow does put himself into! He was fighting old Greene like an angry bull, and only because he had sent him in a bill after it had been paid. A matter of nine shillings and a penny, I believe."

"Well, father," said Amabel, "you wouldn't have wanted to pay that again, would you? I shouldn't."

"No, but I think I should have taken old Greene's abject apology like a gentleman. But Hume wasn't himself to-day. He tried to fight me over this Licence Bill, but I wouldn't rise."

"I think he is nearly always in pain, poor man," said Mrs. Osborne. "You must make allowances. And he never sleeps well. Audrey has told me that she hears him moving about in his room half the night."

"I don't know which I pity most-Audrey or Pauline," said Amabel softly. "Perhaps Pauline, because Mr. Hume's fits of temper are soon over; Mrs. Erskine is always disagreeable. Audrey told me-"

"Talk of the-hum-angel, and here she is! " said Colonel Osborne, turning round in his seat as he heard the click of the gate.

It was Audrey.

"Welcome home! " she called out gaily. "Did you only arrive yesterday?"

"Yesterday morning," said Amabel, jumping up and embracing her friend warmly.