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 on their patience in her own process of correcting them, than in any direct reproof.

The autumn had been unusually mild, the woods assuming their variegated tints, independent of the frost-king, who had scarcely fulfilled his allotted tasks. The autumnal flowers, and many of the summer ones, more lavish than others of their blossoming season, were in full bloom until late in the month of October ere he touched them with a breath of his regal power.

To Rosalind's enthusiastic soul it was a season of intense enjoyment. Many were her rambles in the groves, those majestic temples of nature, where the lingering breath of summer wooed her to gentler melodies in fanning the fevered heat, that at times burst forth in youthful impetuosity from her ardent thirst for knowledge, which was now beginning to be slaked at its fountains.

Her father often accompanied her, watching with pleasure the indications that the impatient restlessness of her childhood was subsiding into the healthful activity of youth. A more tranquil, contented expression cast its radiance over her features which he hoped would, in time, entirely chase away the look of perplexity that cast its shadow over so much of her early years. The last walk they enjoyed together, at Rosalind's suggestion, they held a family pic-nic in the grove where her parents first met, which circumstance gave rise to many a merry joke between them, and to many questions by the children, to whom this was a very interesting piece of news.