MATILDA’S bright anticipations were realized. We pass over many weary weeks and months, for Leila’s recovery was tedious, and there were many fluctuations, but she did recover; and towards the end of April she returned to Woodlands in all the joy of restored sight, and once more did she lift her eyes to the rising sun stealing over the glad earth with steps of light, awakening all nature with the spirit of gladness and of life! How more than ever beautiful was the soft fresh green of spring to her delighted eyes! One universal garden seemed to bloom beneath her feet; one universal hymn of praise was in the song of the bird, in the murmur of the stream, and, above all, in her own grateful, devoted heart. And what was Matilda’s joy, what was the joy of Charles and Mina, and of all those many friends of high and low degree who loved her dearly? for all were there to welcome her return. Peggy Dobie pressing forward amongst the first to bless her dear, dear bairn, with a glow upon her cheeks which made her look young again.

Matilda, capering around her at one moment, in the next holding her in her arms, looking into her eyes with tearful joy, and exclaiming,—“Your dear one, you more than darling! and with your eyes so bright, so open—only at times the slightest little beautiful droop, just to remind us of what has been. Did I not tell you how it would be? did I not say you would again see better than any of us?”

And Charles, what did he say? Nothing. He stood gazing into Leila’s eyes as if he could have looked into them for ever, then raising her hand, he pressed it to his lips.

“Charles,” she said, “how strange you are. Amy does that sometimes to me; she says it is from love and respect; it is from love and respect, eh, Charles?”

The happiness of this happy day seemed every hour to increase. In the evening they all walked to the village, and what did Leila see just before entering it? A pretty cottage in a lovely little garden, blooming with flowers, roses and honeysuckles trained on its white walls, a green turf seat by the side of its little porch, and a bee-hive in a sheltered corner. And this was Mr. Howard’s glad surprise for Leila; this was a cottage he had directed should be built during their absence for Susan’s mother, and in two days, on the first of May, she was to take possession of it.

There were others who looked forward to May-day with eager expectation; for an old custom was to be revived, a youthful queen was to be chosen. Leila herself, though at a distance, had for some time been all anxiety on this subject, revolving in her mind the different merits of her little scholars, and scarcely knowing which most to wish should obtain the promised honour. And she had returned to witness this; returned able to see and to enjoy it all. What happiness, what deep gratitude was hers!

Next day all was joyful bustle and activity. The village children were up with the sun, and while the dew still lay upon the grass, the crystal drops sparkled on every tree and shrub, their merry voices mingled with the song of the skylark, and, like the bee, they were darting from flower to flower, wandering far and wide amidst banks of primroses, lilies of the valley, and dark blue harebells. Long did they pursue their pleasant toil, and in the evening they returned to it again, and not till twilight shades had fallen on the lovely valley, and the silver moon had risen to guide them on their way, were they to be seen trooping homewards, laden with green boughs and heaps of blooming flowers. It was but a short repose that lulled any of them to forgetfulness that night; they were up by the first streak of day to weave the garlands for their youthful queen, and the morning rose fair and bright upon their pleasant labours. Matilda for some time past had been giving them instructions in the art of weaving garlands, and many of them did great credit to their little mistress. She had a few days before constructed for them a crown which they were to imitate, and so well did they now succeed, that it seemed an equal grief to old and young that any thing so beautiful should ever fade.

Selina had returned to her own home; but it had been arranged that Matilda and she were to be early at Woodlands on May morning, to accompany Leila to the village, that they might all be there when the queen was chosen. Leila’s own repose was also somewhat broken on the eve of this eventful day, and having risen early, dressed herself and offered up her prayer and grateful praise, she seated herself at the open window to watch for the expected summons. The morning breeze blew softly on her blooming cheek, her whole heart was full of sweet emotions; again there was joy to her in every rural sight and sound. Often she listened eagerly, and fancied she could hear the joyful hum of many voices from the distant village. Again she listened; was it the sound of distant music she heard? It went, and came again, and she could now hear distinctly a chorus of youthful voices rising on the passing breeze, and could distinguish at intervals, wending their way through the wood, a group of the village children, dressed in white, carrying garlands and green boughs. As they emerged into the open lawn, the group divided, and she saw, surrounded by this youthful band, her beautiful Selim, led by Charles, and followed by Mina, Selina, and Matilda. Selim was decked with flowers, and on the pretty saddle-cloth was placed the crown. They all advanced, still singing; and, in breathless surprise, Leila listened to the following words:—

Yes, with the universal assent of all their loving hearts, Leila was chosen queen of the May! Wreathed with garlands, she was soon seated on her beautiful favourite, and the procession wound its way, the children singing and scattering flowers, to the village green; there, all unknown to her, her papa, and all the elders of the party were assembled, and under the Maypole was placed the throne, where, amidst all she loved, and cheers from old and young, was Leila crowned and proclaimed Queen of the May!

“Did I no’ aye tell ye that peerless jewel o’ a bairn was fit to grace a crown?” was Peggy Dobie’s observation.

THE END.

PUBLISHED BY C. S. FRANCIS & CO., NEW YORK.