Jennie Thorn was delighted with the beautiful furnishing and elegant ease of the cottage by the river.

Mrs. Bowers proved to be one of the most indulgent of mistresses, and the girl's position speedily became a sinecure as far as work was concerned.

At first she was given a few light tasks to avert suspicions, and lead her to think that everything was right. Then Mrs. Bowers began to flatter her, and one day she said:

"You are too pretty and refined, Jennie, to stay in the kitchen with that vulgar cook. You shall stay in the parlor and be my companion."

Nothing could have pleased the vain little creature better, for she thought that her master would respect her more in her new situation, and also that she would have more frequent opportunities of seeing him than had fallen to her lot in her menial position. She accordingly consented with ill-concealed delight.

Leon Vinton had played his cards very cleverly to win the farmer's pretty daughter.

She saw him very seldom at first, as he spent the greater part of his time in town, only visiting the cottage two or three times in the space of a week.

On the occasion of these visits Jennie saw but little of him, but some glance of his eye or tender smile made her heart beat fast and kept him in her thoughts when he was away.

But when the little maid was promoted to the parlor, Leon Vinton began to appear at home more frequently.

He lounged about the parlor with his cigar and newspaper, and chatted a great deal with his pretended sister and her pretty little companion.

Very often Mrs. Bowers would leave the room, and remain away for hours, leaving the handsome man and susceptible girl alone together.

On one of these occasions he threw away his cigar, and took a seat by Jennie. She looked up from a trifle of sewing in her hand, and then, with a deep blush, let her glance fall to the rich velvet carpet.

Mr. Vinton looked at her admiringly. Mrs. Bowers had presented her with a fine dark-blue cashmere dress, and with soft, white laces at throat and wrists, and a few bright-colored ribbons, the little country girl looked quite the lady. Leon Vinton confessed to himself that she was wonderfully pretty in her new surroundings. They suited her beauty much better than the homely, humble farm-house had done.

"Jennie," he said abruptly, "do you know that the probationary month which your father allowed you with us is at an end to-day?"

She started, and looked at him, the pretty pink color fading from her cheeks, a look of alarm in her dark eyes.

"Yes, I know," she faltered, "and you—you're not pleased with me, and you're going to send me home to father, I suppose."

He smiled at the piteous quiver in the girl's voice.

"I'll send you if you want to go," he said, laughing.

"I don't want to go. I like to stay here with—with your sister," she answered, quickly.

"Well, I don't blame you," he said. "This kind of life is better suited to you than that. You're too pretty and dainty, by George, to be working around in people's kitchens!"

She did not answer, save by a blush and a smile of gratified vanity.

"Little Jennie," he said after a moment, "how would you like to live here always, and never have any work to do—nothing to do but adorn your beauty with silks and laces, and jewels, and ride and walk and amuse yourself!"

She clasped her toil-worn little hands, and looked at him with beaming eyes, and a happy smile on her red lips.

"Oh, I should like it above anything!" she breathed, gladly.

He took her hand in his, then dropped it with a slight frown. It was hardened and enlarged by honest toil, and not pretty like her face. He was used to velvet hands, white as the lily, for he seldom descended to women in her station of life. She did not see the slight curl of his lip, for he turned his head away, and when he looked back he was smiling, and there was a beam of tenderness in his eyes.

"Jennie, dearest," he said, "you can have all that, and what is better, you can have one fond, devoted heart to adore you if you will only speak the word."

She looked up blushing and smiling.

"You mean," she said, and then paused.

"I mean," he answered, "that I will lavish every luxury and pleasure upon you if you will only accept my love."

The simple, untutored country girl did not for a moment comprehend his meaning. She turned to him with clasped hands and a face full of joyful emotion.

"Oh, sir," she said, fervently, "you know that I shall only be too happy and thankful to be your wife!"

"The devil!" exclaimed the villain to himself. "The little simpleton thinks I meant marriage."

It suddenly dawned on him that there could be no question of love with this honest little country girl without marriage.

He determined to humor her fancy.

"So you will be my wife, my sweet one?" he inquired.

"Yes," she replied, "I will marry you if father is willing."

Mr. Vinton suddenly assumed an expression of deep concern.

"Ah! my little darling," he said, as he bent down and kissed her ruby lips, "that is just where the trouble comes in. If I marry you now, as my ardent love prompts me to do, I cannot ask your father to give you to me, for our marriage must be a secret, unknown to any but ourselves."

"Why so?" she inquired, looking disappointed.

"I cannot tell you the reason now, Jennie," he replied, evasively. "There are several things which would prevent our marriage if I declared our intention beforehand; but there is one reason I can give you. My sister, though she is fond of you in her way would never consent to it. She is very proud, and she wishes me to marry a rich woman of her choosing. If I openly defy her she has the power to keep me out of my fortune and make me a poor man."

Jennie was too simple and innocent to be undeceived by that transparent lie.

"Darling, after this explanation you will surely consent to a private marriage—will you not? Remember how well I love you," pleaded the wretch.

"How could we manage a secret marriage?" asked Jennie, blushing with delight at his fond words.

"Easily enough. You can tell my sister that you wish to go home and spend a week with your parents. Then I can take you to the city right away and marry you. We can spend a week traveling about and enjoying our honeymoon, after which I can send you back here, and Mrs. Bowers will think that you have been at the farm the whole time. By-and-bye, when my affairs get straight, we will declare our marriage to everybody. By George, how surprised they will be then! Now, my dear little wife that is to be, will you consent to my plan?"

Jennie hesitated a moment, then murmured a timid and joyful "yes."