ing in her bosom, would fain have stayed to gaze and meditate, and, with sad memories softened, to dream sweet dreams of what might have been. Four-and-twenty, it is no unpleasant age. There is nothing like decay in it; the flower has grown and expanded, but not the very edge of a leaf has withered, the perfume of hope must still be in its breast, unless it be blighted indeed by some terrible storm. She was looking very lovely that morning, more so indeed than ever. Whether it was that like the chameleon she took her hues from that which surrounded her, and that the loveliness of the day made her more lovely, or that some mysterious sympathy told her, a change was coming, and brightened her looks with hope and expectation, I cannot tell, but certainly she was very beautiful.

They had gone on for nearly a mile, and were within a couple of furlongs of Ben Halliday's comfortable house, when suddenly dropping down the bank from the side of a tall ash tree appeared the broad but stunted figure and disagreeable countenance, with its wide mouth and slightly squinting eyes, of the idiot, Tommy Hicks. He stood right in the way before them, and Miss Harding suddenly stopped saying "Ah; there is that frightful man. He always alarms me. Really they should shut him up.

"Oh, he will do us no harm," answered Margaret, with a smile. "He is a little inclined to mischief, but more I believe in a spirit of fun than any thing else; but come on, and do not seem frightened at him for that always provokes him."

In the meanwhile Tommy Hicks was himself approaching, talking all the way he came in a low and muttering tone, sometimes laughing and sometimes swearing, for he was not at all times very choice in his language.

"Ah, my pretty girl," he said, coming up to Margaret, "so you are out walking."

see.

"Yes," answered Margaret, trying to pass him, "it is a fine day you

"For birds to look for their mates," answered Tommy; " "but you shan't have him. I won't give my consent-it's no use talking, though he were the sun, and the moon, and the stars, you shan't have him, and to prevent it you shall marry me; so come along."

66

"I am afraid I can't this morning, Tommy," answered Margaret, mildly, 'you must let me pass, my good man, for I am going on business." "No, I won't," answered the idiot, “ "my business first ; you shall marry me, here under the green tree. Then you can't have two husbands in one day, and I am determined that fellow shall not have pretty Meg of Allerdale. May he be and the idiot began to curse and swear most fearfully. "You can't have two husbands in one day, I tell you, is against the law. King George would have done the same if he could, but they would not let him, for though King David had nine wives, and his sons increased and multiplied, yet that was a long time ago."

it

"Let me pass, sir," said Margaret, somewhat sternly fixing her eye firmly upon him. "Stand out of the way directly."

But idiots and madmen have an extraordinary power of divining whether those who attempt to command them are really frightened at them or not, and Tommy Hicks perceived at once that, notwithstanding her assumed calmness, Margaret was alarmed.

"I won't," he cried with a loud laugh,“

you shall be my wife this

minute. I take you for my wedded wife," and at the same moment he stretched out his hand and grasped her tight by the arm.

Margaret did not scream, but Miss Harding did loud and fearfully. "Hold your tongue," shouted the idiot, without letting go Margaret's arm; "hold your tongue, or I will dash your brains out.

way

that bride's maids scream at a wedding?"

Is that the

As he spoke, the sounds of a horse's feet galloping hard were heard, and turning round to look in the direction from which they had come, Miss Harding saw a gentleman on horseback followed by a servant, advancing at full speed, apparently alarmed by her cries. He was up in a moment and off his horse, and the next instant his horsewhip went round and round the shoulders of Tommy Hicks, applied with a right good will and a powerful arm in a manner which soon sent the idiot howling down the lane.

Margaret Graham turned as pale as death; but the gentleman withdrew his left arm from his rein, gave his horse to the servant, and holding out his hand to the lady said, in a low tone, "Margaret, do you not know me ?"

The blood rushed back again into poor Margaret's face, writing the glowing tale of the heart, on cheek, and forehead, and temples, "Oh, yes, I know you," she answered, giving him her hand, "but I have been alarmed, and am agitated still, and faint."

"Lean upon me," said Fairfax, drawing her arm through his, and gazing at her tenderly. Then recollecting that there were others present he turned to Miss Harding with a smile, and held out his hand saying, "I must claim acquaintance here, too."

"Willingly acknowledged," replied Miss Harding, shaking hands with him, "but I really think, Sir Allan, that we had better get home again as soon as possible, for Margaret has been very much frightened, and so have I, too."

"It is the best plan we can pursue," answered Fairfax, "if she is able to walk so far. I have been to your house," he continued, turning to the beautiful girl on his arm, and most fortunately inquired which way you had gone when the servant told me you were out. walk, Margaret, or shall I send for a carriage?"

Can you

"I can walk," she answered, with a faltering voice, "I can walk quite well. I shall very soon be better. I was going to Halliday's cottage to speak of some matters to be done at the farm ; but perhaps it will be better go home now."

to

"Much," answered Fairfax, and leading her towards her own house, he told his servant to follow with the horses, and for full five minutes walked on by Margaret's side in perfect silence. It was upon his left arm she leaned however; and she felt his heart beating in a way which told how agitated he was. Oh, what a host of feelings were there in the bosom of Fairfax at that moment! and poor Margaret, too, what were her sensations! Between those two no word of love had ever been spoken; but there are languages which have no words, and she knew that she was loved. When she had last seen him he had called her "Miss Graham," and now three times he had said "Margaret." How did she read it? That she had always been Margaret Graham in his thoughtsthat she had been his "Margaret" still, in absence, in danger, in suffering, throughout five long years. She forgave him for calling her so; she felt, she comprehended that he could give her no other name, and so they went on in silence.

monors istu

༈ ། *

Poor Miss Harding would have given all she had to be anywhere else; but wisely and prudently, as soon as she could think of what was wise and as soon as she could think to be anywhere prudent, dent, she determined to seem to see what she could not help seeing; and, therefore, at last she began to talk herself, as no one else was likely to renew the conversation. It is a frightful thing, Sir Allan," she said, "that such a dangerous creature as that should be suffered to roam about the country unrestrained. I am sure some terrible accident will happen before the magistrates see the folly of their conduct."

"I will endeavour to have something done in the matter," said Fairfax; x; "for the idiot's own sake he ought to be taken care of. Do you remember, Margaret, that strange and almost ludicrous scene which took place with him at Brugh?"

"It

t is a day I can never forget," answered Margaret, “ the least circumstance that took place rests as vividly on my memory, as if all had occurred yesterday."

ok

And on mine," replied Fairfax, sadly. "It was an ominous day: so bright in the beginning, so full of joy, and hope, and expectation; so stormy in the close, so dark and joyless and despairing."

"You left the party very early last night," said Miss Harding, abruptly, "at least, I did not see you after my third song was done."

"I went to bed," replied Fairfax, "I was fatigued, and thought I might as well lie down to rest, if not to sleep; and to say the truth, as I despaired of getting near you again, I anticipated no great pleasure from the curious crowd assembled."

«« Then it was at Sir Wild Clerk's that you met?" said Margaret, looking to her friend," and yet, Eliza, you never told me he was there." "I felt very sure Sir Allan would come to tell you himself," replied Miss Harding, "and I did not wish to play Marplot, and spoil an agreeable surprise."

"That was really kind," said Fairfax, gazing at her with a beaming smile, "besides, what could she have told ?" he continued, turning to his fair companion, "only that she met a strange, abrupt, unpleasant nan, who treated her for half an hour to conversation which was never heard at rout or ball before."

man,

66

"I certainly did think, for at least ten minutes," Miss Harding answered, laughing, " that you were the most disagreeable man I ever had met with."

Margaret gazed at her with an expression of astonishment which amused her, but Fairfax replied, "And she was quite right, too, Margaret; for I felt that my conversation was very strange. I have seen thirsty men in India, coming near a well, dash every person and thing rudely aside to get one draught of the water; and so was I yesterday. She spoke of that which I was athirst to hear of, and I forgot all else, courtesies and common forms, and questioned her most rudely."

Margaret cast down her eyes till the silken fringes rested on her cheek, but she asked not what was the subject they had spoken of. The conversation, however, became more easy, and continued so till they came within sight of the house. Margaret's spirits returned, her timidity diminished in a degree, and she could even smile gaily as she asked Fairfax to come into what she called her humble dwelling. What was the deep-seated cause of the smile, she alone could tell-perhaps not even she-but it was certainly a trusting, a confiding one. She meant it pro

bably as a welcome to an old friend; Miss Harding read it as a promise to a lover; and the moment they had entered the drawing-room the latter went away to take off her bonnet and shawl.

The room, though not large, was well-proportioned and lightsome. There was nothing sad or gloomy about it; yet when Margaret, with a face which had become pale again, had seated herself in her usual chair, Fairfax stood beside her and gazed at her with an expression not without its melancholy, till, powerful as she was to command herself, the agitation she felt would have some external influence, and the hand which rested on the arm of the chair began to shake, so that she was forced to withdraw it and let it fall more easily upon her knee. That movement recalled her lover to himself, for it showed him how much emotion she felt, and bringing a chair to her side, he took the hand she had withdrawn in his, and pressed his lips upon it.

to

"Margaret," he said, "do you think me over-confident? Do you think me too bold to treat you as I do, after an absence of five years ? Yet listen to me before you reply. Hear first how and why I do so. You cannot, I am sure you will not doubt, when I tell you that I loved you better than all else on earth, with the first, deep, sincere, ardent love of a heart which had loved none other. That love seemed not displeasing you; and I treat you now as if only a few days had passed since we met and parted, because the time which has gone by, though it has worked a change upon my outward form, though it and the things it brought with it have crushed and bent the light spirit which once mocked at adversity, have touched not in the least my heart or its love for Margaret Graham. I feel as if not an hour had passed since I lifted you from your horse at the gates of Allerdale, as if it were impossible that there could be any other sensations towards each other in your breast and mine than there were at that now distant hour. Nay, more, Margaret, though circumstances occurred, on which I must not dwell, to make me mistake you, though you yourself, unwittingly I do believe, confirmed my error, nay, crushed my heart, and made me seek death in the battle-field as the only boon I sought at Fortune's hands

"Oh Fairfax! oh Allan !" cried Margaret, laying her hand on his, "do not, for Heaven's sake, do not say that! Miserable as I was, I should have died had that thought been added to my misery ;" and she burst into

tears.

Fairfax threw his arms around her, and pressed his lips on hers. "Dear, dear girl!" he cried, "I am answered. And yet," he added, "how could you, Margaret, think it would be otherwise? Did you not see I loved you? Did you not know it? Could you doubt after what I wrote that my love was not of a kind to bear life and disappointment easily together?" "Wrote !" said Margaret, "wrote to me of love? I never received but one short note from you, now not quite two half ago; and there was no word of love."

t

years

and a

"I wrote to you two days after I left Allerdale, and though my letter remained unanswered, I hoped still. But it matters not. I can easily conceive from your mother's conduct to myself, that the letter never reached your hands. I wrote not Margaret to ask you to do aught that was wrong. I simply told you my love, and tried to show you its intensity, and I besought you, if you felt that you could return it, to appeal to your excellent father, as soon as he was well enough to hear May.-VOL. LXXX. NO. CCCXVII.

you,
D

from the

decision of your mother, which I felt sure had been pronounced without his knowledge or consent. I thought I had taken means to ensure that it should reach you safely, but it seems it never did."

"Never!" answered Margaret, eagerly, "never, Fairfax. Had I ever seen it I should have been saved much wretchedness; for I had such confidence in your honour, that in all the difficulties and sorrows that beset me soon after, I would have written to you without hesitation or doubt, to beg aid, or consolation, or advice. I thought you loved me, Fairfaxnay, I felt sure you did; but you had never told me so; and love, I had heard say, was with men in general a fleeting and changeable passion. I believed that it might be so in your case, when for more than two long years I heard nothing of you."

"I was far away," answered Allan Fairfax. "I waited for a month in hopes of a reply; and then, still not without hope, I went to seek honour and fortune, if they were to be obtained, in the pursuit of my profession, for I fancied that you might be restrained by others. Then again I never heard of aught that had happened to bring adversity to your door till I returned two years ago-as poor as ever, Margaret. I came back, indeed, on leave, hardly obtained, to transact some business of importance; for I had received in India a letter from an old and roguish clerk of my father's, informing me that he could put me in possession of papers which would at once remedy the injustice my father had done me, under a terrible delusion, by showing that the delusion was removed before his death, and that he had taken steps to make reparation. My father's conduct to me is a long story, which I will tell you another time. At present only let me say, that when I arrived in London I found that this clerk was a prisoner for debt, and that he required the sum of one hundred pounds for the papers he possessed. The thought of Margaret Graham had brought me back; the thought of Margaret Graham made me resolve to obtain these papers by any means; but I had come away in haste, almost all I had in ready money was gone in the expenses of my voyage home ; my noble old uncle was dead, and I had not a hundred pounds in all the world. At the same time, the villain threatened if he did not receive the sum within ten days to put the papers in the hands of others or destroy them. I determined to sell my commission to raise the amount, but just then I heard by accident of all that had occurred to your father and yourself. No, not all, but a part. I hastened down hither, leaving my lawyer to transact the business in London for me, and here I heard a report which stunned and stupified me. I inquired further, I found the report vary in different mouths. I wrote to you-I had nothing, indeed, as yet to offer but hopes; yet I resolved I would offer those, and if they failed, beg you still to unite your fate to mine, and let me labour for the support of your father and yourself. You know the answer I received. Oh, Margaret,

it almost drove me mad."

"I could not help it," exclaimed Margaret," indeed, indeed, Fairfax, I could not help it! I will tell you all by and by; but now go on. You will forgive me-you will find excuse for me when you hear. What did you do then ?"

"I hardly know," answered Fairfax, "I set off for London like a mad man; but by a strange accident which I cannot now relate, I suddenly became possessed of the sum required. I went away to the King's Bench, obtained the papers, and found amongst them one written entirely in my