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34 children," continued Mrs. Whyte, who possessed to the highest degree the art of working up her hearers into a state of miserable suspense by what she called preparing them for the worst.

"Is there," exclaimed the nurse, "any illness in the neighbourhood?"

"Oh no; I wish that were all."

"All, that all!" said Eda, to whom the illness of the children, to whom she was so fondly attached, seemed a calamity of the most formidable order. "What can be worse? my master, has anything happened to him?"

"Yes, it is of my master I am speaking; but he is well enough."

Eda's anxiety was now sufficiently quieted to enable her to wait patiently for Mrs. Whyte's intelligence, who seemed resolved to prolong to the utmost the importance which untold news gives to its possessor. She however told it, at last, abruptly enough—

"So, my master is going to be married."

"Married!" almost shrieked Eda, "