THE LADIES' FLORAL CABINET. 
329 
Ellis was fairly installed one of the family. Then 
followed a delightful winter of which only a hasty 
and imperfect outline can be given. The ‘ ‘ new boarder” 
soon won all hearts, especially the loyal and sturdy 
ones of Tom and Jessie; over them she possessed a 
wonderful influence, and without knowing it, they 
greatly improved in both manners and temper. 
Col. Wallingford recognizing in her the noble woman¬ 
hood which he especially admired, was deeply grateful 
that she had come to share their lives, while Aunt 
Sally shooked her turbaned head sadly, and prophesied 
often, “P’or lam,’she aint long fer dis worl’—’pears 
lak I can des see her fadin’ away.” But for once Aunt 
Sally was wrong. Gradually the death-like pallor left 
her face, the sea-air acted like a tonic, a faint pink crept 
into her cheeks, and the beginning of the New Year 
found her decidedly improved. 
She had told them all something of her family, long 
before; an orphan—her mother and darling sister hav¬ 
ing died of the dread disease that was now menacing 
her, and the only remaining ones now besides herself 
were a married brother in New York, with whom she 
had lived until the failing of her health, and her bro¬ 
ther Max, two years her senior, and evidently her 
favorite and pride. 
All these days our June’s schemes were working well; 
twice a week the precious little cargo still went down to 
the city, and though sometimes the flowers were hard to 
find, there was always something to send—some winter 
Chrysanthemums, or some scarlet Sumach and creeping 
Ferns. The chickens and eggs were still to be had in 
plenty and June had added an ‘‘incubator” to her 
“ stock in trade,” but the store of preserved fruits was 
well-nigh exhausted, and in their place came now the 
glowing strawberries, for which she had so fondly 
hoped. 
The little plot, with Uncle Isaac “to the fore,” made 
really a wonderful yield, the berries brought her the 
fanciest prices, and so the silver dollars poured in, until 
the season was over, and the great hotels were closed. 
It was a somewhat blustering day in March. Outside 
there was a suspicion of frost in the air, leaden skies, 
and dead leaves whirling; indoors the two girls sat by 
a cheerful open fire, Uncle Isaac having chopped that 
week (to use his own expression) “ a right smart chance 
o’ light’ud,” and now this same “lightwood” sent out 
a glorious flame, that sparkled and glowed over all the 
cosy room. 
June was busy with a dainty bit of fancy work, Fan¬ 
nie with a letter that had just come in the mail. 
An exclamation of pleasure escaped her, as a photo¬ 
graph fell from the open letter. “It is my brother 
Max, and as natural as life; more than that, he is 
coming to see me in May, and to help me lay my plans 
for the summer.” And handing the picture to June, 
she went on perusing her letter in happy silence. I 
suppose every young girl has hidden away in her heart 
an ideal picture of the one to whom some day her 
love will go out, I think also that seldom does the real 
one, when he comes, answer to that picture. But 
this was one of the rare cases. June knew, as she 
gazed at the face before her, that the ideal of her heart 
was found. Max Ellis was singularly handsome, with 
a frank, straight-forward smile in his fine eyes, while 
his mouth and chin bespoke both tenderness and 
firm resolve. His sister was never weary of singing his 
praises, and to-day she began anew, without dreaming 
how every word was treasured up in the mind of the 
listening girl beside her. 
April this year was brimful of charming weather; 
the invalid, growing daily stronger, was able tojoin the 
many pleasure excursions planned by the tireless Tom 
and Jessie. Together the four “went crabbing,” to¬ 
gether explored the woods for Ferns and rosy “ Gopher 
apples,” or together rowed down the inlet against the 
incoming tide, then resting on their oars slowly drifted 
home again. 
“ How can I leave this lovely land,” sighed Fannie on 
one of these summer days, “ I could stay here forever ! ’ 
‘ ‘Stay with us this one summer, dear,” begged June, but 
Fannie only laughed and shook her head, saying “wait 
till Max comes.” 
Well, he came at last, in the first warm week of May. 
Astonished and delighted at the change in his sister’s 
health and strength, he consulted with physicians, who 
recommended a longer stay in this mild air, saying that 
many dangerous relapses were occasioned by a too 
early return to a colder climate, that a summer here 
would only emphasize the good done by the winter. 
And so he planned, at Col. Wallingford’s earnest request, 
that his beloved sister should still make it her home 
with them. 
And now, Max Ellis, your errand done, what keeps 
you in this pleasant land ? Oh, the “ historical interest” 
of this quaint old island kept him—the splendid “ fish¬ 
ing” on the bar, kept him—“important business in 
Jacksonville” kept him. Ah! Max, Max, “the little 
blind god ” cunningly got your heart tangled up in his 
web, and you could not get away. The fact is, Max 
Ellis had seen many charming girls before, and 
more than once had fancied that his heart was touched, 
but he had met them only in society where every one 
must be amiable if they would please. It was the first 
chance he had ever had to study a real, true-hearted 
girl in every day home-life, and a fascinating study he 
found it. Besides, his sister had been writing. June’s 
praises to him all winter;—he knew of the brave little 
schemes for earning money and many other small wom¬ 
anly deeds—but finding, like the Queen of Sheba, that 
“the half had not been told him,” he succumbed 
utterly and entirely to his fate. And demure little 
June guarded her own sweet secret so well, that poor 
Max was often in the deepest dejection when he thought 
of the probable termination of it all. 
At last he announced one day at dinner, “Well,good 
friends, I leave for the North on Thursday;” a howl of 
grief and despair broke from Tom and Jessie, which 
gave June time to swallow down her heart-throbs and 
to say with calm politeness, “ O ! we are all so sorry !” 
So that shot missed its mark—apparently. 
Only two days to pass before his time of departure. 
The evening of the first he spent alone with his sister, 
talking over family and business matters, and disclosing 
to her his hopes and fears for the future. “ Max,” she 
said, as he bent to bid her good-night, “Junehas never 
breathed to me a word of her feelings, but women know 
these things by intuition sometimes, and I believe she 
loves you.” Whereupon Max gave her a most brotherly 
hug and strode out of the room. 
The next morning after breakfast he asked Col. 
Wallingford if he could see him alone on some matters 
of business, and into the library they went. “I have 
