him who was so deeply interested in all their move

ments.

"Surely, surely, Maria," she exclaimed, after witnessing the latter's, at least, equivocal manner of receiving and replying to her ardent lover, who had, in spite of Mrs. Woodford's discouraging coldness, passed every evening at Rose Farm, from his first or rather his re-introduction to it-"surely, you can never intend to keep poor William in the dark to the last moment, and then leave him to utter despair!"

"And how can I possibly help it, Grace," returned Maria, blushing at the earnestness of her sister's reproof, "if he will deceive himself? I have told him, and mamma herself has told him, that she will never consent to our marriage, and of course I would not act in opposition to her; and when he asked leave to visit us as a friend, and mamma did not object, I certainly could not be expected to do so. It is not my wish to give him any uneasiness, if I could help it; but as to letting him know that we are going to quit Llan—~, mamma says, it would be the height of folly and imprudence."

"And you really can consent, really can make up your mind to leave him, without even a word of explanation, or you cannot have any affection for him, Maria; it is impossible, or you could not have listened to his anticipations to-night, that all would yet end well and happily, without betraying yourself; yet, I saw you smile at him, and certainly not one word was uttered by you that could give him a suspicion of the treachery that is about to be practised towards him."

Treachery, Grace!" repeated Maria, angrily, yet, with a confusion that betrayed that she felt the term was not inapplicable. "I don't know that you or he either can have any right to accuse me of treachery; he has received a decided refusal from my mother, and I defy him to prove that I have ever uttered a word to lead him to think that I would act in opposition to her. Mamma considers it necessary to keep her intentions for the future a secret; and I am really surprised that you, above all persons, who have always prided yourself on being so dutiful and submissive, should now wish me

"I do not wish you, Maria," interrupted Grace, with warmth; "far would it be from my thoughts ever to wish you to act in opposition to your mother; but I do say, do think, that whatever your words may have been to William, your manners, your looks have been such as to warrant the hopes which, I am sure, he entertains, and which you are now coolly preparing to blast for ever."

66

Upon my word, Grace, you seem to be much better learned in the meaning of looks than I am, and you are quite romantic, too, in your expressions," said Maria; "but, as mamma says, all these fine things about love are very pretty in novels, but they don't do in common life."

Grace felt abashed; she was conscious, indeed, that her warmth in William's cause had led her into using language which certainly did savour a little of romance, though she felt, also, that it did not misrepresent the case, and she therefore did not attempt to reply to her sister.

"I will tell you the real truth, Grace," observed Maria, after some minutes' silence. "I do really prefer William to any one I have ever seen; and if he was a gentleman, I would marry him directly: but I am firmly convinced that love marriages, where people's circumstances are not equal to their wishes, are the greatest folly a woman can be guilty of. Look at mamma, for instance; she married, you know, entirely for love; and yet, you well know, nothing could be more unhappy than the life she led with my father. And just so," she continued, without appearing to notice Grace's agitation at the mention of her father thus disrespectfully-"just so, it would be with me and William; I could not make up my mind to lead a life of drudgery and obscurity, and what else can a farmer's wife expect or hope for?"

"And what else can a farmer's daughter have a right to expect or hope for?" said Grace, with serious

ness.

Maria tossed her head scornfully. "I shall hope, and do hope for something more," she replied; and then, after contemplating, for some moments, with evident satisfaction, her own features, in the dressingglass, before which she was standing, she added, with . a smile

"You may think as humbly as you please, Grace, of the farmer's daughter, but I will never believe that I am destined to waste my life in obscurity."

"But why not, then, deal candidly with William ?" said Grace, who was not even yet discouraged from pleading warmly the cause of her friend.

"Because my mother has a motive for wishing me