thrown away, would be dear and precious to me;
because I love you, Margaret!"

O those words, those dear, dear words! O
that happy time, that happy, happy time!

"Horace," I whispered, after a while, " Prince
Goldenheart is come at last." For he knew the
story of my childish play, and had often laughed
over it with me.

"Is it Prince Goldenheart?" he said. " Well;
he should have a heart of gold who woos my
Margaret. Thank God, at all events, there is
no wicked fairy to blight my gentle Princess, or
to stand between her and her love."

As he spoke, a shadow blotted out the evening
light; and when it had passed, the sun had set;

"What was that?" I asked, looking up.

"Why, they have come home! Is it so late?
It was your sister Anna."

"They have come home? Then they must
have driven round into the stable-yard, and
come into the house by the back way. I dare
say Anna was looking for me. I must go now,
Horace. Please let me."

I felt much as the child of twelve years before
had felt, when old Stock, personifying the work-
a-day world of reality, broke in upon her fairy
story. We had been dreaming such a beautiful
dream, Horace and I, all to ourselves, that for
the moment it seemed a hardship to come out
of that enchanted realm, and face the common
aspect of accustomed things. " Just one instant,
Margaret!" He held both my hands clasped in
one of his, and stood with his other hand laid
softly on my head, looking down upon me.

"Aunty will wonder what has become of me."

"Answer me this one question. Do you
really, really, love me?"

" O Horace! have I not said so?"

"Say it again! Once more—only once
more."

"May I go if I say it again? Do you
promise?"

"I promise, darling."

I released myself from his hold, and drew
down the hand that rested on my head; then,
leaning my two hands upon his shoulders, I raised
my face to his, and kissed him; darting away
next moment at full speed, and never stopping
until I had flown across the hall, and along
the stone flagged passage that led to the
morning-room. I paused outside the door, suddenly
conscious of flushed cheeks and dishevelled hair,
and panting from my swift run. I heard voices
laughing and talking within, and, reassured by
the conviction that they were not thinking
of me, I stole up to my own chamber to bathe
my face and smoothe my hair. When I came
down again, and entered the morning-room, the
tea-table was spread there, and Horace was
seated beside my aunt, who was leaning back in
her large arm-chair with an air of weariness.
Anna was there, and my uncle was there, and
Mr. Lee.

"Dear aunty, are you tired? Have you had
a pleasant day?" said I, hastening to her.

"Where have you been, Madge, my Jove?
Anna was looking for you. Will you. make the
tea, and offer Mr. Lee some cold meat? I had
a very agreeable drive, but I am a thought tired
now, my dear."

So, the business of the tea-table came
opportunely to cover my confusion. After I had
attended to our guest, I took courage to glance at
Horace. He had been waiting on my aunt, holding
her teacup, drawing forward a folding screen
to shield her from the scorching blaze of the wood
fire—my uncle never relinquished evening fires
until quite midsummer—and placing a broad
cushion beneath her feet. Now he sat beside
her, with his handsome head bent down to listen
to her soft slow speech. How I loved him!
How beautiful the gentle deference of his youth
and strength to her weakness and age, appeared
in my eyes! Anna was chatting gaily with
Uncle Gough and Mr. Lee; but she kept looking
across at my aunt and Horace, as if she too
thought the picture they presented a pleasant
one.

"We have been to such a dear old farm-house,
Madge," said Anna. " Such a quaint, queer,
uncomfortable, picturesque old place! Meadow
Leas it is called. The drive there is pretty too.
I did so enjoy it."

"The good farmer and his dame were truly
proud and delighted to entertain Mrs. Gough
and your sister," said Mr. Lee. " Hospitable
kind souls, poor things!"

"Hospitable! Yes, indeed, Madge. I never
saw such heaps of food as they spread on the
table. Pies, and cheese, and cream, and ham,
and butter, and ale, and bread. I was frightened
when I saw the piled up platter of rabbit pasty
they put before me. And they expected me to
eat it all!"

"You must go some day, Margaret dear,"
said my aunt. " I'm sure you would enjoy it.
Farmer Gibson and his wife have all manner of
pets that you would delight in."

Old Mr. Lee was to sleep at the Blue Bell,
where he always put up when he came to
Willborough; and he withdrew early.

" I have business to attend to to-morrow, that
will cause me to be up betimes, my good madam,"
he said to aunt in his tiresome way. " You
will therefore excuse me if I take my leave now.
Late hours do not suit me. They interfere with
that clearness of brain which is essential to
the transaction of important business."

I was very glad to see him rise to depart, for
late hours did not agree with Aunt Gough any
more than they did with him, and she had
been looking very weary for some time past.
"Horace," Mr. Lee continued, " I shall see you
in the morning. Our ways lie in different directions
to-night. I shall have a message to deliver
to you from Sir Robert. Good night, my dear
madam. Nay, nay," in reply to some murmured
thanks from my aunt, " only too glad to have
afforded you a day's pleasure. Farewell, Miss
Anna. I am sure you will not soon be forgotten
at Meadow Leas. A vision of youth and beauty
bursting on the—hem! What is the word?
No matter, you understand me, Good night,
Mrs. Gough. And good night to you, Miss