the winds of winter, stood the Rectory. In summer in that happy home. Two children had grown up the leaves upon the many trees about it only showed in child-like beauty and innocence only to blight the rising above them the high topped roof and the rich promise of their youth by an early death. But twisted chimneys. But now, in the nakedness of severe as this misfortune was to one whose happithe winter time, the crossing branches did not con-ness had taken such deep root beside an humble ceal the house. It was built of old-fashioned, nar- hearth-stone, it was borne without a murmur. And row brick. The central building was double, and as if in reward for their childless resignation, in was one story and a half high. The wings turned the autumn of life, blossomed under their tender their gable ends toward the road. From where we care one, in whom all the beauty and innocence of stood, we could see that the brick about the win- the departed seemed to live anew. dows and door frame projected so as to resemble Mary Allen was now sixteen years of age. The casings of stone. Little buttresses traversed the love which all bore to her father would have opened front of the main building, and served to support to her the hearts of the villagers. But without the projecting roof. A large rustic porch sheltered the spell of the old man's name, there was in her the door way. In the distance we could see flow-own person and character sufficient to deserve all ers blooming in the windows. The lawn, carefully the affection that the kindest partiality could berolled and tended, appeared to retain some of the stow. It was not that she was lovely; although verdure of the departed summer. The smoke the common gaze rarely encountered a being more curled in the air from the chimney tops and as richly gifted with beauty. They who praised her the sunshine dappled the bark of the walnut and seldom spoke of anything that belonged to her perbeech trees that stood about the dwelling, and glar-sonal appearance. But the old loved to tell how, ed in yellow light along the antique front and upon the roof-tiles, I thought, though I beheld it for the thousandth time, that my eye had never rested on a picture of more rural beauty.

sweet voice of Mary Allen was heard repeating the solemn lessons and consolations of the Gospel within their cottage halls, in accents that more resembled the teachings of a ministering angel, than the sounds of a human tongue.

The young too loved her. The wildest child on the village green hushed his shrill outcry when he saw her. The sounds of infant sorrow, the cau ses of childish distress, all vanished under her gentle influence. I have seen her, when weary of

when their hearts were heavy with sorrow and their lives made burdensome with pain, sweet Mary Allen would come to their lonely fireside, and with her gentle hands and cheerful words fill all the Yet to me that simple dwelling had a beauty be- house with pleasantness and peace. And when yond the charm of hill and valley, of forest trees, their own eyes, grown dim with age or weakened of rolling greensward, or the bright sky that hung by disease, failed them in their attempts to read for over all. It was the home of Henry Allen, themselves the truths of the Holy Word, the low the Rector of the parish: a man who, from his twenty-fifth year until his sixty-third, had, in the fear of God, watched over the little fold that time and chance had gathered around him. He had seen the infant grow up to manhood, and return in the vigor of his strength to the dust from whence he came. He had beheld the beautiful die, and shrivel into age-the heart of the proud made desolate, and the weak comforted in their afflictions. Yet from all,-from the babe prattling on the knee to the strong man in his agony,-from the lips of amusement the children scattered to and fro their manhood, and from the trembling breath of age,- plaything of an hour, gather the restless wanderers from the voice of beauty in its bloom and in its sad about her, and by such simple talk as children love decline-had gone forth, from the commencement to hear, or by some sweet story of another day beof his coming among them, blessings, and blessings guile their attention and send them away at last only, upon the head of this tried minister of God. smiling, happy, and contented. Upon the home of Not a sorrow had ever visited the humblest hearth such age and of such youth, Frank and I looked in that village, but the gentle voice, kind sympa- awhile with admiring eyes: he pleased only with thy, and earnest consolation of Henry Allen served the appearance of tranquillity and with the elements to alleviate the causes of distress, And no bless- of rural beauty that made up the picture before ing ever shed its grateful influence upon one happy him; and I pondering over the happy life and holy heart, without there coming with it to gladden its character of those who lived within the simple possession, a sense of the pleasure which the good dwelling.

minister took in the event. No man could have As it was yet early, he proposed that we should been more loved or more revered than he was. And not delay our visit until the morrow, and so we at I verily believe, that all who knew in what serenity once took our way up the green lane that led his latter days had been passed, believed that the from the high road to the Rectory. As we passed good old times of heavenly visitation were come again; and that angels spread by night and day their sheltering wings over the silent valley where he dwelt. But there had been days of mourning

through the grounds immediately before the house, we perceived every where the marks of a taste elegant yet simple. The arrangement and choice of flowers, the sloping grassy banks, the root-seats

fixed beneath the spreading trees, where the stu- lor of her face took nothing from its loveliness; for dent might rest and yet see spread out before him her forehead was smooth and broad; and the curls the beauty of the little valley, all served to show that clustered upon it in golden ringlets and fell with what taste and refinement the simple charms apart, flowing in profusion over her shoulders, were of the place had been seized upon and improved. of that color which best suited the delicate tint of Entering the house, we were shown into the the cheek they sheltered. Her brows were as acRector's Library, a large room upon the right of curately arched as though they had been touched the hall, which in that small family was very often with a pencil. Her eyes were of a hue and beauty the common sitting-room. For the Rector used to that no painter's art could emulate. They were of say that he could never study so well as when he a deep blue, and in their expression there was a saw beside him the same kind face which had cheer- holiness, candor, a depth of tenderness and love, ed him from his early manhood even unto his age. that seemed only to belong to such meek eyes as And as for Mary, her soft footstep and low whisp- haunt us in a dream. ers would never have disturbed the meditation of Turning to give her father the book he wanted, any one. It was even so that we found them. In she saw Frank. And as I presented him, with a his high-backed chair beside the fire, with his little smile the color upon her cheek heightened into a reading table drawn toward him, upon which lay a blush of surprise. But with her, perfect innocence huge folio volume, sat Henry Allen, the Rector of and simplicity were in the place of that confidence our parish. Time had indeed altered much a face which society bestows; and her low laugh soon said in its youth to have been eminently handsome. rang out in pleasant unison with the gaiety of that But although the cheeks were thin and the hair, no happy household. longer raven black, was scattered thinly over his Frank Hastings and the old Rector were soon head in locks of snowy whiteness, yet the brow deep in conversation. They were both from the was broad, high and even; the deep blue eyes still same part of the country, and the old gentleman shone with a softened brightness; and around the took peculiar pleasure in making inquiries after all lips there dwelt the same expression of content- the names and families which he remembered to ment and inward tranquillity that had ever marked have known in his youth. Saving now and then his benign countenance. His figure was large and, one person, all of whom he asked had long slept in considering his years, still muscular. And his their graves. But his curiosity did not seem to dress, which was a plain black, was every where end with their lives. He loved to hear of the forfaultlessly neat. Opposite to him sat Mrs. Allen, tunes of their children, although they had never the partner of his few sorrows, and the companion met his eye. Luckily Frank had the memory of of his long and happy pilgrimage. She too bore a genealogist and I must say, that I heard with the traces of having possessed some beauty in early admiration his minute account of families to the life. But time had dealt more hardly with her than third and fourth generations. But I could see that with her husband. She had suffered much from when he at times turned his looks in another direcsickness, and of this her attenuated figure bore tion, the eyes of the old man were fixed with an painful testimony. But the same tranquil expres- air of melancholy interest upon his pallid face and sion, which was the charm of her husband's ap- wasted figure. This interest was more particularly pearance, also distinguished hers. displayed when we rose to depart. With his own hands he raised the collar of Frank's coat, warning him that there was care required in encountering the chill evenings of a late November.

As the door of the Library opened, Mary was about handing to her father some book that he wanted from an upper shelf; and conscious only of my entrance, she went on with her search for another It was not my friend's habit to be very enthusimissing volume. To her father she seemed so astic; but when we were once more around the fire much of a child, that he did not observe that Frank in the Library, he could not forbear expressing his had not been presented to her. And as in the first gratitude to me for showing him a woman of such few moments I was busy in answering his numer exquisite loveliness. He looked with a sigh at his ous inquiries, Frank had an opportunity of looking thin hands, and said that he supposed consideraunnoticed at Mary Allen, as she stood poring over tions of prudence must make him a prisoner many the title-page of a book, with her face half turned weeks during the coming season. Were it not for from him. It was not difficult to perceive his sur-this, he declared that he would send for a full and prise, nor was his astonishment without a reason: particular account of every family whose history for I had not prepared him for the vision of beauty that he was to see.

he had not been able to give the Rector, if it were for no other reason than to have a frequent exause for helping Mary to find her father's books.

She was taller than most of her age, and her figure possessed an unusual symmetry. Her face Within a few days the Rector called to see us. was fair even to paleness; for though not delicate, After telling me that I must come to the Rectory her cheek wanted the ruddy bloom that makes all whenever I felt lonely, considering it as my own youth seem beautiful. But in her the natural pal- home, he turned to Frank and gave him a cordial

invitation to do likewise. He even, with a half were indeed of a burning flame and rapid decay, satire, professed to believe that my sporting habits they did not centre in the dust and cinders that he would be a reason for an invalid's wishing to amuse had so long watched. Holding out his hand to his deserted state now and then by seeking society mine, he bade me put my finger on the wrist. I elsewhere. Frank was not long in availing him- did so. The pulse was thread-like, but exceedingself of this invitation. When the weather per-ly rapid. His hand was dry and burning. mitted he went every morning to the Rectory. And Without waiting for any comment he said to me between finding for the Rector the quotations he that he could now no longer conceal from himself needed in his studies, and helping Mrs. Allen to that his life was gradually yielding to the progress select and disentangle the thousand and one skeins of a fatal disease. He was yet young, and he had of yarn with which her work-box was crowded, he entertained all those hopes of future usefulness and soon appeared as much at home in the family, as dignity, that lend their lustre to the paths of toil. he was at my own house. To Mary also he be- He now felt that his labors, even if they were concame a daily companion. He had great taste in tinued, could end in nothing; for, that long before music, and was an excellent performer upon the that autumn in which he might put forth his hand flute. And while she played upon the harpsichord and gather in the growth of a blooming spring and and sang her father's favorite ballads, he sometimes a golden summer, he would have sunk into the accompanied her with his instrument, and some-grave. But even in his own brief experience of times joined his own voice in harmony with her life he had learned to set less store upon what were wild woodland notes. usually accounted the objects of worldly ambition, As I have already said, there was nothing like than was perhaps natural in so young a man. That bashfulness or awkwardness in Mary's manner. he had seen his own growing indifference with a Childlike in simplicity, she had yet a womanly dig-melancholy pleasure, because if he was to be comnity of demeanor and conversation. And although pelled, by an untimely death, to leave this world her spirits were full of gaiety, yet they never pass- and all its greatness, it lightened the sorrow of deed beyond that pleasant cheerfulness which exhila-parture to feel that his heart did not vainly cling rates without exhausting. So that although there to those pursuits which it was not destined to folwere ten years difference between Frank's age and her own; although she had passed the brief period of her own life in tranquil seclusion, and he in his own longer career had experienced the dissipations of college, and the more dangerous amusements of the world, the excitement of study and the trying conflict of professional life, yet he talked to Mary, and really seemed to feel as if her experience had in all things been equal to his own.

low.

"But now," he said, and while he spoke he baried his face between his hands, "now, while I seem standing even upon the threshold of the gate of death, life wears a presence dearer and more beautiful than ever adorned it even in the hopeful days of my early manhood. And although, as my lingering gaze dwells upon its beauty, it seems only to increase in grace and loveliness, uttering propheShe evidently liked him. It would have been cies of happiness beyond all that it ever seemed desstrange if she had not. Always gentle in his man- tined to attain, yet I feel that the vision can never ner, to her his bearing was even yet more consid-be realized. And thus, besides the stern encounter erate and respectful, than I had ever known it. But that I shall have to undergo with that enemy which although nature had endowed her with quick per- must surely overcome me, I feel that I shall be ceptions, and these had matured rapidly into the graces of a perfect woman beneath the steady care and discipline of her admirable parents, yet she could not but remain long unconscious of the real feelings created by her new association. But with Frank the case was different. I had observed that although gay and happy when with the family at the Rectory, he had of late seemed unusually dejected after remaining alone, or when left only with

me.

haunted in the useless conflict, by beautiful regards, which must shake my courage, by letting me know how much I am about to lose forever."

He had mentioned no name, but well I knew what newer feeling had cost him this unavailing regret. And although I had scarcely ever felt able to convince myself that the friend of my early youth was indeed passing away, yet my fears had grown stronger of late than they had ever been; for I too had observed that his cheek was yet paler and his figure yet more attenuated than before. I sought with such words of hope as seemed most probable,

One night, shortly after Christmas, when he had sat for near an hour silently and moodily, watching the flame eating its way slowly through a stick of to cheer his desponding spirit. But his grief was wood, I joined in his observation: and when at last the log parted, and the fragments fell down upon the hearth, I desired to know, now that the catastrophe was over, if he intended to wait until the next one burned through also. He smiled a mel- When we met on the following morning, his spirancholy smile, and told me that although his thoughts its seemed to have regained their ordinary cheer

no fancy and no self-delusion. And shaking his head mournfully in reply to my proffered consolation, he silently rose from his place and left the room.

fulness. That day, contrary to his usual custom, experienced surgeons had been sent for, and urged he remained at home. And although, when the that I would make no delay in going to the Rectory. hour came at which he usually went to the Rectory, I need not say that in the course of a few minhe seemed somewhat nervous and agitated, yet as utes I arrived at the house. Doctor Selwyn drove the morning passed he recovered his tranquillity. up at the same time, and we entered together. Perceiving that he had determined to lessen the The Rector, pale and agitated, met us in the hall. frequency of his visits at the Rectory, I endeav- He told us that Frank, near an hour before, while ored to add to his amusements at home. I could endeavoring to replace a large folio upon a shelf in not but appreciate his spirit of self-denial. For the Library, had been suddenly attacked with a although in the sincerity of his own convictions as hemorrhage. The bleeding seemed to have stopto his approaching death, he rightly considered that ped in a great degree; but that he was very much his new attachment would render him less resigned exhausted. Desiring us to follow him softly, he than he would otherwise have been; yet I know led the way into a room opposite the Library, where that the knowledge of her affection and its tender he said they had arranged a bed for my poor friend. offices would have soothed the hours of pain and I shall never forget the scene which I then besickness which he was then enduring, and would held. Stretched upon a couch lay poor Frank have tranquilized his spirit in its closing moments. Hastings pale as death; his dress exhibiting many But with an honest and manly fortitude, he thought distressing traces of his sad condition. As I went of events beyond the limit of his own life. He towards him, he moved his livid lips without a felt that now he was perhaps only her companion sound, and smiled faintly in recognition of my comand her friend; but that habits of close association ing. At his head stood Mrs. Allen, composed, might cause him to be more to her than this. And careful, attentive; her long experience in works of if in all the tenderness and docility of her nature, the strong shoots of her affection should hang and cluster about his declining life, what would be her fate when he was stricken down in the very first blossoming of her youth.

charity having rendered her familiar with sickness and distress. Familiar, but not indifferent; for as she leaned over my poor friend, wiping the cold perspiration from his brow, her eyes became suffused with tears, which, unknown even to herself, But these purposes, generous as they were, failed coursed in large drops down her cheek. She had in their object. The next day was as mild and ge- sent Mary to obtain something for his use, previnial as had been the weather of the first week after ous to our entrance; and, as I approached Frank, Frank's arrival among us. As I threw up the Li- the gentle girl had just fulfilled her mission. The brary window to catch the pleasant morning air, I eyes of the poor sufferer turned from me to follow saw the Rector's pony carriage driving up the ave- her movements. And if the sorrow of that beaunue. Frank's absence on the day before had alarm-tiful being could have reconciled him to his melaned the old gentleman, and when he saw him appa- choly condition, I am sure that what he saw would rently no worse in health than he had been when have borne full consolation to his heart. Her natthey last met, he insisted that the penalty of ac-urally pale cheek was of an ashen whiteness. Her companying him at once to the Rectory should be very lips seemed bloodless from her agitation. Her paid for the anxiety which his remaining away had dark blue eyes swam with tears. As she stood occasioned. beside her mother, her hands were clasped together and slightly raised. And in her utter unconsciousness of the presence of all about her, save the unhappy being, who seemed to be dying as he lay, her lips moved in an audible prayer for his safety.

Frank looked embarrassed and hesitated to accept the invitation; but the kind old man would not listen to the refusal. As he rose to make the necessary arrangements for his departure, he actually tottered from extreme weakness. I ventured to remonstrate with him for leaving the hall when he was evidently so unwell; but the Rector play-ment. Poor Frank followed them with a fixed but fully rebuked me for supposing that an invalid could not be better cared for in his family, than by the household of a bachelor.

As the physician approached the bedside he whispered to Mrs Allen, and she and Mary left the apart

languid gaze to the door-way, and then closed his eyes from sheer exhaustion. Doctor Selwyn spent some time in ascertaining his true condition, and in He pressed me to accompany my friend, but I prescribing such remedies as would be most likely declined. Taken up with different occupations, to check the direct consequences of the accident. the time wore away until the afternoon, when I As he left the apartment, he motioned to me that was suddenly aroused by the rapid clatter of a I should follow him. He was a man of great skill horse's hoofs on the avenue. Before I had time in his profession, but his familiarity with suffering to inquire the reason of the unusual speed of the had not blunted his natural feelings. And although rider, the door opened and the Rector's servant hur-the invalid was to him an entire stranger, the paried breathlessly in. He was the bearer of a line tience he exhibited, and the evident distress of all informing me that Frank had been taken suddenly around, sensibly affected the good physician. ill, and desired to see me. The note added that He told me that as I seemed to be the nearest

friend of the invalid, he felt it to be his duty to tell | forbore to utter, I took an occasion to say to Mary me his true opinion of the case. He said that one day in the Rector's presence, that I thought Frank's condition was such that he could not pos- she might occasionally aid me in nursing our poor sibly survive more than two or three weeks, and friend. She looked inquiringly at her father. And that he might die much sooner. Although shocked he, as though it had never occurred to him that her by this intelligence, I was not wholly unprepared presence would in any way alleviate the painful for it, and I hastened to inquire how soon Frank circumstances of Frank's situation, smilingly told could be removed to my own house, and with what her that she might be in the sick room, whenever safety. He said that he might, and probably would I would let her, if she did not disturb the rest of be greatly revived within a few days, if left undis- my patient. When her mother visited Frank shortturbed; but that any movement or excitement at ly after, Mary accompanied her. I prepared him that time would only tend to shorten a life already for her coming. And when I saw what happiness hastening to a rapid close. The Rector approach-shone upon his pallid face as she entered the aparted as this opinion was given. He at once exclaim- ment, I felt that I had indeed administered to his ed in a decided tone, that Frank should remain where he was during his indisposition, whether it ended fatally or not. And that as for me, he would give me a room beside that of my friend, in order that I might see that he was not neglected.

:

mind a more grateful medicine, than science could prepare. He did not speak when Mary gave him her hand and inquired with a trembling voice as to his condition; but he fixed with swimming eyes a look of tender gratitude upon her face, that fully revealed his deep sense of her kindness in coming to see him. The poor child was evidently encour

dreadfully emaciated, yet he did not present the same ghastly look, that had so much alarmed her when he was first taken ill. The slow fever that consumed him burned with a hectic glow upon his cheek. His lips were no longer livid, but of a bright red color, and his eyes shone with an unnaturally brilliant lustre.

The old gentleman endeavored to say this in his usual hearty cheerful manner. But the tears were in his eyes, and his voice grew thick as he proceed-aged by his appearance. For although he was ed and as he ended, he turned abruptly from us and hurried away to conceal his emotion. All that night I watched poor Frank through his feverish, uneasy slumbers. Once or twice he attempted to speak, but I begged him to be silent, and in a few words told him that he was to be left at the Rectory during his sickness, and that I would remain with him. I knew that in his anxious and unhappy state of feeling, this information would tranquilize him more than all the power of medicine; and so it was, for as the morning wore he sank into a light sleep.

I did not permit Mary to remain long with him on this occasion, for I felt that it was much better that he should become gradually accustomed to the excitement of her society. But her visits grew longer day by day. When the week was ending she sat almost constantly in his chamber. They spoke little together, for Doctor Selwyn forbade it. But now and then as her gentle hand smoothed his pillow, or prepared something to cool his fevered lips,

The day was faintly dawning in the east, when I heard a tap at the door of the chamber. A tap so faint and gentle, that it did not break even the light slumber of the invalid. I noiselessly opened the door. It was Mary. With childlike anxiety and I could hear him murmur to her faint expressions artlessness, but with a womanly tenderness and sympathy, she told me that she came even thus early to inquire after my friend. And when she heard that he at last slept tranquilly, she glided away with a happy smile, that made her once more seem like her cheerful self.

of his gratitude. In the deep anxiety with which she watched over him,—in the womanly gravity with which her character appeared more than ordinarily imbued—and in the tears that rolled involuntarily from her eyes despite her assumed cheerfulness, when she talked with me out of the invalid's sight,-all tended to convince me that the love of Frank Hastings, melancholy as it was in its history and character, was yet equalled by a feeling in her heart more prophetic even of coming sorrow than his own.

Three days more passed away. Frank's strength had so far returned, that he was able to talk for a few moments at distant intervals. He expressed a wish to be removed to the Hall. But the Doctor thought the step so injudicious, and the Rector forbade it in such absolute language, that I joined In the third week after the commencement of with them in persuading him to rest contentedly his illness, I came one morning to his bedside to where he was. Many times a day the light step inquire as usual, how he had slept. Before be anof Mary came to the door; and her whispered in-swered me I observed a great change in his apquiries for the invalid often reached his ear. When- pearance. The flush was gone from his cheek and ever Frank heard the familiar sound, his face light- the color from his lips. Without a tremor in his ened with hope and expectation; but as her steps voice he told me that he believed that he was at turned slowly away from the door, he seemed list- last dying. And he begged that he might as soon less and unhappy. as possible see Dr. Selwyn, and know if it were the Well knowing what those wishes were, which he case. For he said that he had much to say which