So—a month has passed.

My coat, it seems, is to be the constant topic of
attention.

A day or two since, I was sitting in my chamber,

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reflecting upon a variety of things. My thoughts,
at last, centred on the deficiencies of my wardrobe,
and I muttered, “I must certainly have my
coat mended soon;” and I looked down, sighing, at
the hole in my elbow........ It
had disappeared! There was no longer any rent.
The torn cloth had been mended in the neatest
manner; so neatly, indeed, that the orifice was
almost invisible. Who could have done it, and
how? I have one coat only, and— yes! it must
have been! I saw, in a moment, the whole secret:
that noise, and the voice of Sarah, the old chambermaid.

I rose and went out on the staircase; I met the
good crone.

“How did you find my coat in the dark?” I said,
smiling; “and now you must let me make you, a
present for mending it, Sarah.”

Sarah hesitated, plainly; but honesty conquered.
She refused the money, which, nevertheless, I gave
her; and, from her careless replies, I soon discovered
the real truth.

The coat had been mended by Annie!

I descended to the drawing-room, and finding her
alone, thanked her with simplicity and sincerity.
She blushed and ponted.

“Who told you?” she asked.

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“No one; but I discovered it from Sarah; she
was unguarded.”

“Well, sir,” said Annie, blushing still, but laughing,
“there is no reason for your being so grateful.
I thought I would mend it, as I formerly laughed
at it—and I hope it is neatly done.”

“It is scarcely visible,” I said, with a smile and
a bow; “I shall keep this coat always to remind
me of your delicate kindness.”

“Pshaw! 'twas nothing.”

And running to the piano, the young girl commenced
a merry song, which rang through the old
hall like the carol of a bird. Her voice was so
inexpressibly sweet that it made my pulses throb and
and my heart ache. I did not know the expression
of my countenance, as I looked at her, until turning
toward me, I saw her suddenly color to the roots of
her hair.

I felt, all at once, that I had fixed upon her one of
those looks which say as plainly as words could
utter: “I love you with all the powers of my
nature, all the faculties of my being—you are dearer
to me than the whole wide world beside!”

Upon my word of honor as a gentleman, I did
not know that I loved Annie—I was not conscious
that I was gazing at her with that look of inexpressible
tenderness. Her sudden blush cleared up

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everything like a flash of lightning—I rose, set my
lips together, and bowed. I could scarcely speak—
I muttered “pray excuse me,” and left the apartment.

On the next morning I begged the squire to
release me from the completion of my task—I had a
friend who could perform the duties as well as
myself, and who would come to the hall for that
purpose, inasmuch as the account books could not
be removed—I must go.

The formal and ceremonious old gentleman did
not ask my reasons for this sudden act—he simply
inclined his head—and said that he would always
be glad to serve me. With a momentary pressure
of Annie's cold hand, and a low bow to the frigid
Mrs. Barrington, I departed.