to revisit her old haunts, she had found the high-boarded gate which separated the street from the lane a by-lane running along the side of Mr. Carlton's premises, then winding between a double row of tall elms, and opening into the rich enclosures of the Dairy Farm -she had found the gate triply locked, and had been seen peeping wistfully through the barrier by Giles Cousins, the milkman aforesaid-who had, and not without having fairly earned the title, the reputation of being the veriest churl in Belford-in, as it seemed, the least auspicious moment that could have been chosen for such an encounter, inasmuch as he was in the very act of driving before him a small rabble of riotous boys whom he had caught breaking his fences in search of a gleaning of hazel-nuts. The young imps (some of that same band of ne'er-do-well urchins who subsequently signalized themselves in the attack on poor Romeo) resisted amain, screaming, and shouting, and struggling in all manner of ways; but Giles Cousins, armed with the long and powerful whip with which he was accustomed to gather together a tribe of unruly cows, was too many for the gentlemen. He drove them to the gate, unlocked it, and thrust them forth into the street. Hester was meekly turning away; but the same strong hand that had thrust the rioters out so roughly, kindly seized the gentle girl, and drew her in! "Miss Hester! to be sure it is Miss Hester! and how she is grown! Don't you go, Miss; pray don't you go. You have a right, sure, to come here whenever you choose; and so has madam-I heard she was to come to Belford; and I'll send you a key, to let your self in as often as you like. The cows are as quiet as quiet can be; and my dame will be glad to see you at the cottage-main glad she'll be. It looks quite natural to see you here again." "Poor thing!" thought he within himself, as he turned away from Hester's tearful thanks; " poor thing! she must have known hard usage up in London, if a kind word makes her cry. And such a pretty harmless creature as it is! just as harmless-looking as when it was no higher than that dock," (beginning to tug away at the strong-rooted weed) which Jack Timms ought to be ashamed of himself for not having pulled up, passing it as he does every day, night and morning, and being told of it six times a week into the bargain. Poor Miss Hester!" continued Giles, having by a manful haul succeeded in eradicating his tough and obstinate enemy, and letting his thoughts flow again into their kindly channel" poor Miss Hester! I must get my mistress to send her a pat of butter now and then, and a few apples from the old orchard; and we must manage to get her and madam to take a drop of milk night and morning. We shall never miss it; and if we did miss it, it's no more than we ought to do. I shall never forget how main kind poor madam was to my mistress and me when we lost our little Sally. To my mind, Miss Hester favours Sally-only she's more delicate, like. We must send her the key and the apples, and manage about the milk." And, with a downright heartiness and honesty of kindness that Mrs. Kinlay could not resist, the affair of the milk, so great a comfort to an invalid, was managed; and Mrs. Cousins being quite as grateful as her husband, and entertaining the same fancy of Hester's resemblance to the child whom they had lost-the youngest and the favourite, -she had run to the Dairy-house to see them as often as she could; though, so closely was she occupied, that this her brief half-hour's holiday occurred far too rarely for their wishes. Her last visit had been on that Sunday morning, when-in walking up the little path, that led from the gate to the house, between two borders thickly set with bunches of anemones of the rich red and purple, as vivid as those colours in old stained glass, the secret of producing which is said to be lost now-a-days, (luckily Nature never loses her secrets,) alternating with tufts of double primroses, and of the pretty plant called by the country-people the milk-blossom, backed first by a row of stocks and wall-flowers, and then by a taller range of gooseberry and currant bushes stealing into leaf-and finally, in arriving at the rustic porch where the sweet-briar was putting forth its first fragrant breath drawn out by the bright sunshine succeeding to a balmy shower, -Hester had felt in its fullest force the sweet influence of the sweetest of the seasons, and had determined, if possible, to persuade Mrs. Kinlay into partaking her enjoyment, so far at least as her strength would permit, by getting, if not to the dwelling itself, at least into some of the nearest meadows of the Dairy Farm. At the outset of the walk, Hester found with delight that her experiment had succeeded beyond her expectation. The day was delicious-bright, sunny, breezy,- for the light and pleasant air, though still on the wintry side of the vernal equinox, was too mild and balmy to deserve the name of wind,-and her dear companion seemed to feel in its fullest extent the delightful exhilaration so finely described by Gray, who, of all the poets of his own somewhat artificial time, has best succeeded in bringing strikingly and vividly before us the commonest and most familiar feelings of our nature: "See the wretch that long has tost Unfinished Ode on the Pleasures arising from drawn out by the sun, penetrated through the hedge and perfumed the sheltered retreat which she had chosen. She sank into her lowly seat with a placid smile, and dismissed her young and affectionate companion to her pleasant labour, with a charge not to hurryto ramble where she liked, and enjoy the beauty of the flowers, and the summer-like feeling of the light and fragrant air. The season and the scenery were alike in sit down to rest on the trunk of a large beech harmony with the buoyant sensations of re-newly cut by the side of the lane, whilst Hesturning health. The glorious sun was career-ter passed into an adjacent field to fill her ing in the deep blue sky, dappled by a thou- basket with the violets, whose exquisite odour, sand fleecy clouds which floated at a distance around the bright luminary, without for a moment dimming his effulgence: the sunbeams glanced between the tall trees on the grassy margent of the lane, striking on the shining garlands of the holly and ivy with a sparkling radiance; glittering through the dark leaves of the bramble, as though each particular leaf were a pendent emerald; dwelling with a purplish flush on the young shoots of the woodbine; and illumining the tender green of the wintry mosses, and the pure hues of the pale primrose and the crimson-tipped daisy, with a mingled brilliancy and delicacy to which the most glowing colouring of Rubens or of Titian would be faint, dim, and spiritless. A slender brooklet danced sparkling by the roadside; young lambs were bleating in the meadows; the song-thrush and the black-bird were whistling in the hedge-rows; the skylark was chanting overhead; and the whole scene, animate and inanimate, accorded with Mrs. Kinlay's profound and devout feeling of thankfulness to the Providence which, depriving her of artificial luxuries, had yet restored her to the enjoyment of the commonest but purest gifts bestowed on man-the ever-varying and never-cloying beauties of Nature. And Hester, as she bounded like a fawn into those sunny meadows, abandoned herself to a fulness of enjoyment such as for many years the poor child, surrounded by distress and difficulty, and thoughtful far beyond her years, had not experienced. Every sense was gratified. The sunshine, the flowers, the hum of insects, the song of birds, the delicious breath of spring, and, more than all, that feeling-to her so rare, the unwonted sense of liberty! Well sings the old Scottish Poet Ah! freedom is a noble thing! BARBER-The Bruce. And Hester tripped along the meadow as light as the yellow butterfly brought into life by that warin sunshine, and as busy as the She walked on in silence; beguiled, partly bee wandering from blossom to blossom. It by the real charm of the scene and the hour-was a lawn-like series of old pastures, divided' the shallow pool on the top of which the long by deep ditches, fringed by two or three of the grass went trailing-the vigorous and life-like wild irregular plantations, edged by shaggy look of the leafless elm, into which one might bits of mossy paling, which I have attempted almost see the sap mounting-the long trans- to describe; and dotted about by little islands parent sprays of the willow, seen between the of fine timber trees and coppice-like undereye and the sunbeams like rods of ruddy light wood, the reliques of hedge-rows now long -the stamped leaves of the budded cowslip cut down, breaking and almost concealing the -the long wreaths of ground-ivy mingling massy buildings, the towers, and spires of the its brown foliage and purple flowers with the town. One short bank, crowned by high; vivid reds and pinks of the wild geranium, elms, projected a little way into the pastures and the snowy strawberry blossom lurking in like some woody headland, at right angles the southern hedge; and partly by thoughts from the hedge under which she was walking; sweet yet mournful-the sweeter perhaps be- the hedge being thickly set with white violets, cause mournful of friends who had trodden those "pretty daughters of the earth and sun," with her that very path in by-gone years, of whilst, all around the lofty elms, the very all that she had felt and all that she had suf-ground was covered by the deep purple which fered in those quiet scenes;-when, after pass- forms, perhaps, the sweetest variety of the ing a bit of neglected wild plantation, where sweetest of plants. In the hedge-row, too, the tender green of the young larch contrasted were primroses yellow and lilac and white, with the dark and dusky hue of the Scotch all the tints commonly known blossoming fir, and the brown sheaths of the horse-chest- under the pearly buds of the blackthorn, those, nut just bursting into leaf; where the yellow"locked buttons on the gemmed trees;" and flowers of the feathery broom mingled with the deeper gold of the richly scented furze, and the earth was carpeted with primroses springing amidst layers of dropped fir-cones; after passing this wild yet picturesque bit of scenery, which brought still more fully to recollection the faulty but kindly person by whom the little wood had been planned, she became suddenly exhausted, and was glad to Hester, as she stooped to fill her basket, first mused gravely on a problem which has posed! wiser heads than hers, the mystery, still, unexplained, of the colouring of flowers-and then, with a natural transition, applied herself to recollecting the different epithets given to these blossoms of spring by the greatest of poets; for Hester loved poetry with an intensity which might be said to have partly formed her character, and to hear Mrs. Kinlay read Shakspeare, or recite some of the stirring lyrics of his contemporaries, had been the chief solace of her monotonous labours. 66 -studiously calm, though not unkind, but became impassioned as he proceeded: 66 Elizabeth! No, do not rise! Sit down again, I entreat you. You are not well enough to stand. You must have been very ill.” "I have been very ill." 66 Ay, you are greatly altered. We are both greatly altered. much?" "Oh, very much!" You have suffered "Yes! we have both suffered! I am no man for general acquaintance, or for the slight and trivial companionship which this selfish, bustling world dignifies with the name of friendship. I lived, as you know, in my books, and in the one solitary tie which still connected me with the world. Fatherless and motherless, the only child of my only sister, you were to me, Elizabeth, as my own daughter-endeared to me by the cares of twenty years, by habit, by kindred, and by taste. And when you, whom I loved as a daughter, whom I trusted as a friend,-when you abandoned me for one so unworthy' "Pale primrose!" said Hester to herself, upon faint primrose beds"-" violets dim” "the nodding violet"-What pictures! and how often he returns to them, so beautifully, and so fondly! surely he must have loved them! And he speaks of the robin-redbreast, too!" added she, as, startled by her gentle movements, the hen-bird flew from her careless mossy nest in a stump of hawthorn, exhibiting her five pale eggs with red spots, to one who would not have harmed them for the fee-simple of Belford. She passed on rapidly, yet cautiously, that the frightened bird might the sooner return to her charge; and arriving under the clump of elms, was amused by another set of nest-builders, those pugnacious birds the rooks, who had a colony overhead, and were fighting for each other's clumsy stick mansions as if they had been the cleverest architects that ever wore feathers. The sight of these black gentlefolks made a change in "He is dead. I beseech you, spare his the current of Hester's poetical recollections, memory! He was kind to me-I loved him! and she began "crooning" over to herself the For my sake, for your own, spare his memory! elegant and pathetic ballad of "The Three-You would not wish to see me die here beRavens," one of those simple and tender effu- fore your eyes!" sions which have floated down the stream of "When for him, then-being such as he time, leaving the author still unguessed. was-you deserted me, it seemed as if the Then, by some unperceived link of associa-earth were sinking under my feet, as if the tion, her mind drifted to another anonymous ditty of a still earlier age, the true and pleasant satire called "Sir Penny ;" and when she had done with "that little round knave," she by an easy transition began reciting the fine poem entitled "The Soul's Errand," and attributed to Sir Walter Raleigh; and had just arrived at the stanza "Tell fortune of her blindness, Then give them all the lie," when she was aware of footsteps passing along the adjoining lane, and little Romeo, creeping through the thick hedge, flung himself into her arms. During her poetical quotations she had gathered even to satiety from the purple bank, and had returned to the hedge-row near the gate for the purpose of collecting the white violets which grew there in profusion; so that she was now nearly opposite the point where she had left Mrs. Kinlay, and was the unintentional auditress of a conversation which cleared at once the mystery that had hitherto hung over Mr. Carlton. The first sentence that she heard rooted Hester to the spot. He seemed to have passed, or to have intended passing, and to have returned on some unexplained but uncontrollable impulse. His voice was at first low and calm sun were extinguished in the heavens; books ceased to interest me-my food did not nourish, my sleep did not refresh me-my blood was turned to gall; I vowed never to see, to pardon, or to succour you, (for well I knew that you would soon want succour,) whilst you remained with him, and acted under his guidance; and heartsick and miserable, I left the home in which we had been so happy, to wander over the world in search of the peace and oblivion which I failed to find: and then, under some strange and moody influence, I settled here, in the spot that I should most have avoided, to feed my spirit full with bitter recollections. Elizabeth, those tears and sobs seem to respond to my feelings. They seem to say, that on your part also the old and holy love of near kindred and long association is not quite forgotton?" passion-one whom it was an insult to bring into contact with his pure and chaste wife!" "One who is herself all that is pure and innocent, and gentle and good! I do not defend my own conduct. In abandoning you, my more than father, I deserved all punishment. Grievously as I have suffered, I have felt the chastisement to be merited. But if I were to desert this orphan child-his orphan -the grateful, tender child who has shared all my sorrows, has nursed me in sickness, has worked for me in health; if I were for any worldly good-even for that best of all blessings, your affection-to cast her friendless and helpless upon the world,-I should never know another quiet moment-I should sink under grief and remorse! What would become of her, growing as she is into such elegant, such exquisite beauty, and with a mind pure, graceful, and delicate as her person? What would be her fate? Her mother has long been dead. She has no kindred, no natural friend-none but myself, poor, feeble helpless, sick, and dying as I am; but, while I live, I will never abandon her-never! never! It breaks my heart now to part from you. But I cannot desert my Hester; as you have felt for me, so do I feel for her. Do not ask me to abandon the child of my love!" "I ask nothing. I offer you the choice between her and me. I am rich, Elizabeth; my large estates have accumulated, during my long absence, until I can hardly count my own riches; and you are poor-grievously poor think before you decide." "I have decided. Poor I am-grievously poor; but in giving up your affection, I resign more than riches. I have decided-I have chosen-I do not hesitate. But say, Goodby! Bid God bless me! Do not leave me in unkindness. Speak to me before you go, or you will break my heart. Speak to me, if only one word!" "Farewell, Elizabeth! May you be happier than I shall be!" “Oh, God bless you! God for ever bless you, my best and earliest friend!" And then Hester heard Mr. Carlton move slowly away-she felt rather than heard that he turned away; and Mrs. Kinlay remained weeping bitterly. Hester was glad to hear her sobs. She herself could not cry. Something rose in her throat, and she felt as if it would suffocate her-but she could not cry. She lay upon the ground lost in thought, with her little basket by her side, and Romeo still in her arms, until he sprang from her at his master's call, oversetting her violets in his haste and then she roused herself, and rose from the bank on which she had been lying, picked up her scattered flowers, and walked with a strange calmness to the other end of the field, that if Mrs. Kinlay should seek her, she might not be led to suspect that she had overheard the conversation. And by the time Mrs. Kinlay did join her, each was sufficiently composed to conceal her misery from the other. On the Friday of the ensuing week, a low and timid knock was heard just before sunset at the house of Mr. Carlton; and on opening the door, the housekeeper was at once astonished and perplexed to discover Hester, who inquired gently and firmly if she could see her master; and who, on his passage accidentally through the hall, settled the question herself, by advancing with a mixture of decision and modesty, and requesting to speak with him. Perplexed even more than his wondering housekeeper, he yet found it impossible to repulse the innocent child; and leading the way into the nearest room, he sat down on the first chair, and motioned for her to be seated also. It happened that this room was the one in which Mrs. Kinlay had principally lived, and where Hester had passed the happiest days of her childhood. The windows opened on the pretty velvet lawn on which stood the great mulberry tree; and her own particular garden, the flower-bed that was called hers, and sowed and planted by her own hands under Mrs. Kinlay's direction, was right before her, glowing with the golden jonquil, and the crisp curled hyacinth-the choicest flowers of the season. There too, on that short turf where she had so often played with her own fond and faithful dog, lay the equally fond and faithful Romeo, basking in the last rays of the setting sun. The full tide of sad and tender recollection gushed upon her heart; the firmness which she had summoned for the occasion deserted her, her lip quivered, and she burst into tears. Stern and misanthropic though he were, Mr. Carlton was not only a man, but a gentleman, by birth, education, and habit; and could not see female tears, especially in his own house, and caused, as he could not but suspect, by himself, without feeling more discomposed than he would have cared to acknowledge. He called immediately for water, for wine, for reviving essences, and himself administered a plentiful aspersion of eau de Cologne, and loosened the strings of her cottage bonnet. Whilst so engaged, he could not help dwelling on her exquisite and delicate beauty. "How like a lily!" was the thought that passed through his mind as he gazed on the fair broad forehead, with its profusion of pale brown ringlets hanging down on either side; the soft dovelike eyes, the pencilled brows, and the long lashes from which the tears dropped on the polished cheeks; the fine carving of the youthful features, the classical grace of the swan-like neck, the pliant grace of the slender figure, the elegant moulding of those trembling hands with their long ivory fingers; and, above all, the mixture of sweetness and intelligence, of gentleness and purity, by which, even in her present desolation, the or phan girl was so eminently distinguished. | would have broken! She did not say a word She still wore mourning for Mr. Kinlay; and to me, nor I to her. She does not know that the colour of her dress, though of the simplest | I overheard the conversation; but all the evenform and the commonest material, added to the resplendent fairness of her complexion:"How like a lily! how elegant! how ladylike! how pure!" was the thought that clung to Mr. Carlton; and when, recovering her calmness by a strong effort, Hester raised her eyes to the person whom she feared most in the world, she met his fixed on her with a look of kindness which she did not think those stern features could have worn. Her first words banished the unwonted softness, and recalled all the haughtiness of his common expression. "I beg you to forgive me, sir, for having been so foolish as to cry and to occasion you this trouble. But I could not help it. This room brought to my mind so many past scenes of joy and sorrow, and so many friends that I shall never see again-dear, dear Mrs. Kinlay!-and my poor father! it seems but yesterday that he was sitting by the fireside just where you do now, with me upon his knee, talking so gaily and so kindly! And to think that he is dead, and how he died!" And Hester turned away and wept without restraint. She was aroused from her grief by the stern interrogatory of Mr. Carlton: "I understood that you desired to speak to me?" ing she was so sad, and so ill—so very, very ill! Oh, if you could but have seen her pale face and have heard how she sighed! I could not bear it; so as soon as it was light I slipped out of the house, and ran up to the Dairy Farm to consult Giles Cousins and his dame, who have been very kind to me, and who would, I know, prevent my acting wrongly when I most wished to do right, as a young girl without the advice of her elders might do. They both agreed with me, that it was my plain duty to remove the cause of discord between two such near and dear relations by going to service; and happily, providentially, Mrs. Cousins's sister, who is cook in a clergyman's family, had written to her to look out for some young person to wait on her mistress's two little girls, walk out with them, and teach them to read and spell. Mrs. Cousins wrote immediately, and all is settled. Her husband-oh, how kind they have been! -her good generous husband has advanced the money wanting for the journey and some needful trifles, and won't hear of my paying him out of my wages:-but God will reward him!" pursued poor Hester, again bursting into grateful tears: "God only can reward such goodness! He is even going with me to the very house. I sleep to-night at the Dairy Farm, and we set off to-morrow morning; Mrs. Kinlay, who knows nothing of my intentions, imagining only that I am going to assist Mrs. Cousins in some needlework. Oh, what a thing it was to see her for the last time, and not to dare to say farewell! or to ask her to bless me; or to pray for her on my "I did take the liberty of asking to speak bended knees, and bid God bless her for her with you, sir, that I might confess to you, goodness to the poor orphan. What a thing what perhaps you may think wrong, that be- to part from such a friend for ever as if we ing within hearing last Sunday of your con- were to meet to-morrow! But it is right, I versation with Mrs. Kinlay, I remained an am sure that it is right-my own internal feelundetected listener to that which was certainly ing tells me so. And you must go to her benot meant by either party for my knowledge. fore she misses me, and bring her home to I was on the other side of the hedge accident- your house; and in the full happiness of such ally, gathering violets; and I suppose-I dare a reconciliation, smaller sorrows will be lost. say that I ought to have come into the lane. And you must tell her that I shall be very But I could not move; I was as if spell-bound comfortable, very safe, for I am going to good to the place. What you said, and what she people, with whom it will be my fault if I do said, explained to me things which had puz- wrong; and that in knowing her to be happy, zled me all my life long. Though taught to I shall find happiness. Will you condescend, call him father, and a kind father he was to sir, to tell her this? and to pardon me for this me! and her mother-such a mother as never intrusion? I could not steal away like a thief poor girl was blest with!-I yet knew, I can--I could not write, for I tried; and besides, not tell how, that I was not their rightful child; I used to think that I was some poor orphan -such as indeed I am!- whom their kindness had adopted. But that which I really was, I never suspected,-far less that I had been the means of separating my benefactress from such a kinsman-such a friend! When 1 heard that, and remembered all her goodness and all her sufferings, I thought my very heart "I did so, sir," was the reply; "but this strange foolishness!"-and for a moment Hester paused. She resumed, however, almost instantly; her sweet voice at first a little faltering, but acquiring strength as she proceeded in her story, which Mr. Carlton heard in at tentive silence. there was only you that could comfort Mrs. Kinlay for the loss of one to whom she had been as kind as if she were her born daughter. Oh, sir, tell her, I beseech you, that the poor Hester is not ungrateful! If I leave her, it is from the truest and strongest affection," said poor Hester, unconsciously clasping her fair hands. "It is," added she, taking up a volume which lay open on the table, and which even |