The Masked Bridal. Mrs. Georgie Sheldon

had stated, somewhat out of date, it was really a very dainty costume.

      She laid everything out upon the bed, in readiness for the evening, and then went down to her dinner, which she always took with the housekeeper before the family meal was served.

      Edith found Mrs. Weld looking unusually nice—although she was always a model of neatness in her attire—in a handsome black silk, with folds of soft, creamy lace across her ample breast, while upon her head she wore a fashionable lace cap, adorned with dainty bows of white ribbon.

      "Oh! how very nice you are looking," Edith exclaimed, as she entered the room. "What a lovely piece of silk your dress is made of, and your cap is very pretty."

      "I do believe," she added, to herself, "that she would be quite good looking if it were not for those horrid moles and dreadful blue glasses."

      "Thank you, child," the woman responded, a queer little smile lurking about her mouth. "Of course, I had to make a special effort for such an occasion as this."

      "If you would only take off your glasses, Mrs. Weld," said the young girl, as she leaned forward, trying to look into her eyes. "Couldn't you, just for this evening?"

      "No, indeed, Miss Edith," hastily returned the housekeeper, her color deepening a trifle under the sallow tinge upon her cheeks. "With all the extra lights, I should be blinded."

      "But you have such lovely eyes—"

      "How do you know?" demanded Mrs. Weld, regarding her companion curiously.

      "Partly by guess—partly by observation," said Edith, laughing. "Let me prove it," she continued, playfully, as she deftly captured the obnoxious spectacles, and then looked mischievously straight into the beautiful but startled orbs thus disclosed.

      "Child! child! what are you doing?" exclaimed the woman, in a nervous tone, as she tried to get possession of her property again. "Pray, give them back to me at once."

      But Edith playfully evaded her, and clasped them in her hands behind her.

      "I knew it! I knew it!" she cried, in a voice of merry triumph. "They are remarkably beautiful, and no one would ever believe there was anything the matter with them. Oh! I love such eyes as yours, Mrs. Weld—they are such a delicious color—so clear, so soft, and expressive."

      And Edith, inspired by a sudden impulse, leaned forward and kissed the woman on the forehead, just between the eyes which she had been so admiring.

      Mrs. Weld seemed to be strangely agitated by this affectionate little act.

      Tears sprang into her eyes, and her lips quivered with emotion for a moment.

      Then she put out her arms and clasped the beautiful girl in a fond embrace, and softly returned her caress.

      "You are a lovable little darling—every inch of you," she said, with sudden fervor.

      "What a mutual admiration society we have constituted ourselves, Mrs. Weld! But, I am sure, I am very happy to know that there is some one in the world who feels so tenderly toward me."

      "No one who knew you could help it, my dear," gently returned the woman, "and I shall always remember you very tenderly, for you have been so kind and helpful to me in many ways since we have been here. I suppose the affair to-night will wind up the frolic here," she went on, thoughtfully. "You will go your way, I shall go mine, and we may never meet again; but, I shall never forget you, Miss Allen—"

      "Why, Mrs. Weld! how strangely you appear to-night!" Edith involuntarily interposed. "You do not seem like yourself."

      "I know it, child; but the Goddards expect to return to town to-morrow, and I may not have an opportunity to see you again alone," returned the housekeeper, with a strange smile. "I do not want you to forget me, either," she went on, drawing a little box from her pocket, "so I am going to give you a souvenir to take away with you, if you will do me the favor to accept it."

      She slipped the tiny box into Edith's hand as she concluded.

      More and more surprised, the fair girl opened it, and uttered a low cry of admiration as she beheld its contents. Within, on a bed of spotless cotton, there lay a gold chain of very delicate workmanship, and suspended from it, by the stem, as fresh and green, apparently, as if it had that moment been plucked from its native soil, was a shamrock, in the heart of which there gleamed a small diamond of purest water.

      "Why, Mrs. Weld, how beautiful!" exclaimed Edith, flushing with pleasure; "but—but—isn't the gift a little extravagant for me?"

      "You are worthy of a stone ten times the size of that," said her companion, smiling; "but, if you mean to imply that I have impoverished myself to purchase it for you, do not fear; for it was a little ornament that I used to wear when I was a girl, so it costs me nothing but the pleasure of giving it to you."

      "Thank you, a thousand times!" returned the happy girl, with starting tears, "and I shall prize it all the more for that very reason. Now, pray pardon me," she added, flushing, as she returned the glasses she had so playfully captured, "I am afraid I was a little rude to remove them without your permission."

      "Never mind, dear; you have done no harm," said the housekeeper, as she restored them to their place. "Come, now, we must have our dinner, or I shall be late, and there must be no mistakes to-night, of all times."

      When the meal was finished, Mrs. Weld hastened away to attend to her numerous duties, while Edith went slowly upstairs to dress herself for the evening.

      "There is something very, very queer about Mrs. Weld," she mused. "I do not believe she is what she appears at all. She has come into this house for some mysterious purpose—as mysterious, I believe, as the people who have employed her."