"Good-by, uncle; good-by auntie; good-by girls," said Jennie, as she was pressed to the bosom of her relatives at the parting hour. "Simon, don't forget the dear old seat," continued she, putting a coin in his hand, and turning tearfully toward the carriage where Mrs. Dunmore was awaiting her, and then springing back to give one more kiss to her uncle, and to whisper something in Carrie's ear that sent the warm blood quickly to her face.

Henry and Rosalie were there to bid her adieu, and golden-curled Minnie, too, with a bunch of autumn leaves in her little hand, which she had gathered on the way as a parting gift, and which she now held up beseechingly to Jennie, who stooped to embrace her, and taking the withered tokens, hastened to hide her emotion in the furthest recess of the carriage that bore her away from the home of her kindred. It seemed to those who watched the receding travelers, as if a blight had fallen upon their pleasant things; as if the winter had suddenly come and frozen up all the springs of pleasure and delight, for that young girl's presence, though unobtrusive in its influence, had diffused warmth and gladness all about her, and now that she was gone the warmth and gladness had also departed, and a mournful group turned back into the house with a mournful feeling, almost as if the grave had swallowed up one of its inmates. Old Simon betook himself to the seat beneath the trees, and with his knees crossed, and a dolorous motion of his gray head, he muttered,

"I thought it couldn't be all in the name! the likeness was amazin'! amazin'!" And forth from the stilly air seemed to come to the good old butler's ear, "Dear little Jennie! dear little Jennie!"