But the thing's impossible. Come and answer for yourself, Joseph Hanson."

And the tinman turned to look for his intended son-in-law; but frightened at the sight of the fair claimant of his hand and person, the bridegroom had absconded, and John Parsons and the mayor had nothing for it but to rejoin the pretty Harriet, smiling through her tears as she sate with her bridemaiden in the coach at the churchyard-gate.

"Well; it's a great escape! and we're for ever obliged to you, Mr. Mayor. Don't cry any more, Harriet. If Frederick was but here, why, in spite of the policeman-but a week hence will do as well; and I am beginning to be of Harriet's mind, that even if he had not had three or four wives, we should be well off to be fairly rid of Mr. Joseph Hanson, the puffing haberdasher."

THE BEAUTY OF THE VILLAGE.

did his duty to his employers with punctual industry, who was never above his calling, a good son, a good brother, a good husband, and an excellent father, who trained up a large family in the way they should go, and never entered a public-house in his life.

The loss of this invaluable parent, about three years before, had been the only grief that Hannah Colson had known. But as her father, although loving her with the mixture of pride and fondness, which her remarkable beauty, her delightful gaiety, and the accident of her being by many years the youngest of his children, rendered natural, if not excusable, had yet been the only one about her, who had discernment to perceive, and authority to check her little ebullitions of vanity and selfwill, she felt, as soon as the first natural tears were wiped away, that a restraint had been removed, and, scarcely knowing why, was too soon consoled for the greatest misfortune that could possibly have befallen one so dangerously gifted. Her mother was a kind, good, gentle woman, who having by necessity worked hard in the early part of her life, still THREE years ago, Hannah Colson was, be- continued the practice, partly from inclinayond all manner of dispute, the prettiest girl tion, partly from a sense of duty, and partly in Aberleigh. It was a rare union of face, from mere habit; and amongst her many exform, complexion, and expression. Of that cellent qualities had the Ailie Dinmont projust height, which, although certainly tall, pensity of giving all her children their own would yet hardly be called so, her figure way,* especially this the blooming cadette of united to its youthful roundness, and still the family and her eldest brother, a bachelor, more youthful lightness, an airy flexibility, a-who, succeeding to his father's business, bounding grace, and, when in repose, a gentle dignity, which alternately reminded one of a fawn bounding through the forest, or a swan at rest upon the lake. A sculptor would have modelled her for the youngest of the Graces; whilst a painter, caught by the bright colouring of that fair blooming face, the white forehead so vividly contrasted by the masses of dark curls, the jet-black eyebrows, and long rich eyelashes which shaded her finely-cut grey eye, and the pearly teeth disclosed by the scarlet lips, whose every movement was an unconscious smile, would doubtless have selected her for the very goddess of youth. Beyond all question, Hannah Colson, at eighteen, was the beauty of Aberleigh, and, unfortunately, no inhabitant of that populous village was more thoroughly aware that she was so than the fair damsel herself.

Her late father, good Master Colson, had been all his life a respectable and flourishing master bricklayer in the place. Many a man with less pretensions to the title would call himself a builder now-a-days, or, "by'r lady," an architect, and put forth a flaming card, vaunting his accomplishments in the mason's craft, his skill in plans and elevations, and his unparalleled dispatch and cheapness in carrying his designs into execution. But John Colson was no new-fangled personage. plain honest tradesman was our bricklayer, and thoroughly of the old school; one who

A

took his place as master of the house, retaining his surviving parent as its mistress, and his pretty sister as something between a plaything and a pet; both in their several ways seemed vying with each other as to which should most thoroughly humour and indulge the lovely creature whom nature had already done her best or her worst to spoil to their hands.

Her other brothers and sisters, married and dispersed over the country, had of course no authority, even if they had wished to assume anything like power over the graceful and charming young woman whom every one belonging to her felt to be an object of pride and delight; so that their presents, and caresses, and smiling invitations, aided in strengthening Hannah's impression, poor girl though she were, that her little world, the small horizon of her own secluded hamlet, was made for her, and for her only; and if this persuasion had needed any additional confirmation, such confirmation would have been found in the universal admiration of the village beaux, and the envy, almost as general, of the village belles,-particularly in the

*"Eh, poor things, what else have I to give them?" This reply of Ailie Dinmont, and indeed her whole sweet character, short though it be, has always seemed to me the finest sketch in the Waverley Novels-finer even, because so much tenderer, than the bold and honest Jeannie Deans.

latter; the envy of rival beauties being, as everybody knows, of all flatteries the most piquant and seducing-in a word, the most genuine and real.

The only person from whom Hannah Colson ever heard that rare thing called truth, was her friend and school-fellow, Lucy Meadows, a young woman two or three years older than herself in actual age, and half a lifetime more advanced in the best fruits of mature age, in clearness of judgment, and steadiness of conduct.

which, turned as it was to the purposes of his
own trade, rendered him a most ingenious and
dexterous mechanic; and which only needed
the spur of emulation, or the still more active
stimulus of personal ambition, to procure for
him high distinction in any line to which his
extraordinary faculty of invention and com-
bination might be applied.
He was

Ambition, however, he had none. happily quite free from that tormenting taskmaster, who, next perhaps to praise, makes the severest demand on human faculty and A greater contrast of manner and character human labour. To maintain in the spot where than that exhibited between the light-headed he was born, the character for honesty, indeand light-hearted beauty, and her mild and pendence, and industry, that his father had quiet companion, could hardly be imagined. borne before him; to support in credit and Lucy was pretty too, very pretty; but it was comfort the sister whom he loved so well, and the calm, sedate, composed expression, the one whom he loved still better, formed the pure alabaster complexion, the soft dove-like safe and humble boundary of his wishes. But eye, the general harmony and delicacy of fea- with the contrariety with which fortune so ture and of form that we so often observe in often seems to pursue those who do not follow a female Friend; and her low gentle voice, her, his success far outstripped his moderate her retiring deportment, and Quaker-like sim- desires. The neighbouring gentlemen soon plicity of dress, were in perfect accordance discovered his talent. Employment poured with that impression. Her clearness of in- in upon him. His taste proved to be equal to tellect, also, and rectitude of understanding, his skill; and from the ornamental out-door were such as are often found amongst that in-work-the Swiss cottages, and fancy dairies, telligent race of people; although there was an intuitive perception of character and motive, a fineness of observation under that demure and modest exterior, that, if Lucy had ever in her life been ten miles from her native village, might have been called knowledge of the world.

How she came by this quality, which some women seem to possess by instinct, Heaven only knows! Her early gravity of manner, and sedateness of mind, might be more easily accounted for. Poor Lucy was an orphan, and had from the age of fourteen been called upon to keep house for her only brother, a young man of seven or eight-and-twenty, well to do in the world, who, as the principal carpenter of Aberleigh, had had much intercourse with the Colsons in the way of business, and was on the most friendly terms with the whole family.

With one branch of that family, James Meadows would fain have been upon terms nearer and dearer than those of friendship. Even before John Colson's death, his love for Hannah, although not openly avowed, had been the object of remark to the whole village; and it is certain that the fond and anxious father found his last moments soothed by the hope that the happiness and prosperity of his favourite child were secured by the attachment of one so excellent in character and respectable in situation.

James Meadows was indeed a man to whom any father would have confided his dearest and loveliest daughter with untroubled confidence. He joined to the calm good sense and quiet observation that distinguished his sister, an inventive and constructive power,

the treillage and the rustic seats belonging to a great country place, to the most delicate mouldings of the boudoir and the saloon, nothing went well that wanted the guiding eye and finishing hand of James Meadows. The best workmen were proud to be employed by him; the most respectable yeomen offered their sons as his apprentices; and without any such design on his part, our village carpenter was in a fair way to become one of the wealthiest tradesmen in the county.

His personal character and peculiarly modest and respectful manners, contributed not a little to his popularity with his superiors. He was a fair, slender young man, with a pale complexion, a composed, but expressive, countenance, a thoughtful, deep-set, grey eye, and a remarkably fine head, with a profusion of curling brown hair, which gave a distinguished air to his whole appearance; so that he was constantly taken by strangers for a gentleman; and the gentle propriety with which he was accustomed to correct the mistake, was such as seldom failed to heighten the estimation of the individual, whilst it set them right as to his station. Hannah Colson, with all her youthful charms, might think herself a lucky damsel in securing the affections of such a lover as this; and that she did actually think so was the persuasion of those who knew her best-of her mother, of her brother William, and of Lucy Meadows; although the coy, fantastic beauty, shy as a ring-dove, wild as a fawn of the forest, was so far from confessing any return of affection, that, whilst suffering his attentions, and accepting his escort to the rural gaieties which beseemed her age, she would now profess, even while hang

the garden, - her own pretty flower-garden, divided by a wall covered with creepers from the larger plot of ground devoted to vegetables, and bounded on one side by buildings connected with his trade, and parted on the other from a well-stored timber-yard, by a beautiful rustic screen of fir and oak and birch, with curve at the end next the house, and at that leading to the garden in a projecting gothic porch, partly covered by climbing plants, partly broken by tall pyramidical hollyhocks, and magnificent dahlias, and backed by a clump of tall elms, formed a most graceful veil to an unsightly object. This screen had been erected during Lucy's absence, and without her knowledge; and her brother, smiling at the delight which she expressed, pointed out to her the splendid beauty of her flowers, and the luxuriant profusion of their growth.

ing on his arm, her intention of never marrying, and now coquet before his eyes with some passing admirer whom she had never seen before. She took good care, however, not to go too far in her coquetry, or to flirt twice with the same person; and so contrived to temper her resolutions against matrimony with "nods and becks and wreathed smiles," "the bark on, which, terminating in a graceful that, modest as he was by nature, and that natural modesty enhanced by the diffidence which belongs to a deep and ardent passion, James Meadows himself saw no real cause for fear in the pretty petulance of his fair mistress, in a love of power so full of playful grace, that it seemed rather a charm than a fault, and in a blushing reluctance to change her maiden state, and lose her maiden freedom, which had, in his eyes, all the attractions of youthful shamefacedness. That she would eventually be his own dear wife, James entertained no manner of doubt; and, pleased with all that pleased her, was not unwilling to prolong the happy days of courtship.

In this humour Lucy had left him, when, towards the end of May, she had gone for the first time to spend a few weeks with some relations in London. Her cousins were kind and wealthy; and, much pleased with the modest intelligence of their young kinswoman, they exerted themselves to render their house agreeable to her, and to show her the innumerable sights of the Queen of Cities. So that her stay, being urged by James, who, thoroughly unselfish, rejoiced to find his sister so well amused, was prolonged to the end of July, when, alarmed at the total cessation of letters from Hannah, and at the constrained and dispirited tone which she discovered, or fancied that she discovered, in her brother's, Lucy resolved to hasten home.

He received her with his usual gentle kindness and his sweet and thoughtful smile; assured her that he was well; exerted himself more than usual to talk, and waived away her anxious questions by extorting from her an account of her journey, and her residence, of all that she had seen, and of her own feelings on returning to her country home after so long a sojourn in the splendid and beautiful metropolis. He talked more than was usual with him; and more gaily; but still Lucy was dissatisfied. The hand that had pressed her's on alighting was cold as death; the lip that had kissed her fair brow was pale and trembling; his appetite was gone; and his frequent and apparently unconscious habit of pushing away the clustering curls from his forehead, proved, as plainly as words could have done, that there was pain in the throbbing temples. The pulsation was even visible; but still he denied that he was ill, and declared that her notion of his having grown thin and pale was nothing, but a woman's fancy, the fond whim of a fond sister.

To escape from the subject he took her into

The old buildings matted with roses, honeysuckles, and jessamines, broken only by the pretty out-door room which Lucy called her green-house; the pile of variously-tinted geraniums in front of that prettiest room; the wall garlanded, covered, hidden with interwoven myrtles, fuchsias, passion-flowers, clematis, and the silky blossoms of the grandiflora pea; the beds filled with dahlias, salvias, calceolarias, and carnations of every hue, with the rich purple and the pure white petunia, with the many-coloured marvel of Peru, with the enamelled blue of the Siberian larkspur, with the richly-scented changeable lupine, with the glowing lavatera, the dark-eyed hybiscus, the pure and alabaster cup of the white onothera, the lilac clusters of the phlox, and the delicate blossom of the yellow sultan, most elegant amongst flowers; - all these, with a hundred other plants too long to name, and all their various greens, and the pet weed mignionette growing like grass in a meadow, and mingling its aromatic odour amongst the general fragrance-all this sweetness and beauty glowing in the evening sun, and breathing of freshness and of cool air, came with such a thrill of delight upon the poor village maiden; who, in spite of her admiration of London, had languished in its heat and noise and dirt, for the calm and quiet, the green leaves and the bright flowers of her country home, that, from the very fulness of her heart, from joy and gratitude and tenderness and anxiety, she flung her arms round her brother's neck, and burst into tears.

Lucy was usually so calm and self-commanded, that such an ebullition of feeling from her astonished and affected James Meadows more than any words, however tender. He pressed her to his heart, and when, following up the train of her own thoughts,sure that this kind brother, who had done so much to please her, was himself unhappy, guessing, and longing, and yet fearing to know the cause, when Lucy, agitated by

such feelings, ventured to whisper "Han- that is wicked, and corrupter of all that is nah ?" her brother placing her gently on the frail, The Foaming Tankard.' It is there, steps leading to the green-house, and leaning in the noble game of Four-Corners, that the himself against the open door, began in a low man who aspires to the love of Hannah Coland subdued tone to pour out his whole heart son passes his hours.-Lucy, do you rememto his sympathising auditress. The story was ber the exquisite story of Phoebe Dawson, in nearly such as she had been led to expect from Crabbe's Parish Register?-such as she was, the silence of one party, and the distress of will Hannah be. I could resign her, Heaven the other. A rival a most unworthy rival-knows, grievous as the loss would be, to one had appeared upon the scene; and James Meadows, besides the fear of losing the lovely creature whom he had loved so fondly, had the additional grief of believing that the man Surely, brother, she cannot know that he whose flatteries had at least gained from her is so unworthy! surely, surely, when she is a flattering hearing, was of all others the least convinced that he is so, she will throw him likely to make her respectable and happy.-off like an infected garment! I know Hannah Much misery may be comprised in few words. Poor James's story was soon told.

nights at Four-Corners! It is a vile slander! | ed by the small-pox, she can no longer boast