Such ideas naturally present themselves to the mind of all who are not wholly devoid of imagination and when the rapid stream again bore, away the bunch of roses, and Netta saw them no more, she had quite believed that such would be her course upon the troubled waters of the world.
But she was not long left to speculate upon her future.

Whilst her eyes were yet fixed upon the spot whence the roses had vanished, she felt a hand on her shoulder, heard a voice call her name, and starting round, saw her cousin Howel behind her.

He had crept so softly down that she had not heard him, and she uttered a sharp cry that sounded like one of terror, as she suddenly felt his touch.
'A strange greeting, Netta,' were the first words, after they had shaken hands.
'You frightened me, and why were you not here sooner?
I have been waiting an hour,' was the rejoinder, in a tone of voice that belied the radiant joy of the young face.
Suddenly Netta seemed to recollect something that brought a shadow over the sunshine.
'Cousin Howel, I--I am very sorry for you.

Poor Uncle Griff! How is aunt ?--and you--you look ill, Howel; what is the matter ?' It was difficult for Netta to know what to say about the death of the miser.

She was not sorry, and she could not tell how her cousin felt.
'Oh, yes; my mother is pretty well.