hands and kissed her forehead for
comfort

"Don't be downcast, my child," she said
gently; " we all make mistakes sometimes,
and seldom any so venial as all-but running
the May Fly on the rocks. Go and
comfort fort Horace, and ask him if he sprained his
wrist in that strange Venetian manoeuvre of
his.  I am sure you have been quarreling on
the balcony, Ada—you look so shy of him!"
And she laughed pleasantly.

'Oh, no—no!" cried Ada, trying to look
indifferent, but unsuccessfully. Then, with a
sudden shake of her head, as if shaking it
clear of fancies, she ran over the thwarts and
sat down by Horace frankly; but terribly in
his way for the sweep of an oar . She
leaned on his shoulder and played with his
hair, in her old familiar manner; asking
him " if he were cross yet?—what made him
so grave?"

"Not cross at any time with you," he
said, bending his head to her hands. " Sometimes
thoughtful—and about you."

His grave voice made Ada pause. " Are
you unhappy?" she said; and her hand stole
gently to his forehead.

"No. I am very happy at this moment,"
he said. " At the worst of times only in
doubt." He looked at Margaret as he spoke
wistfully.

"In doubt of what, Horace?" she asked.

"Whether sisterly affection might ever take
a dearer name; or whether a niche might be
reserved for me in the temple of a beloved
life."

The boat was floating through the water-lilies
as he spoke. They touched the shore
of the island.

"Now sermonise together!" cried Ada,
springing on shore and rushing away into the
wood. She was going to look for mosses,
she said, and ferns for the rockwork in her
garden; for Horace and Margaret were best
alone.

A rustic bench or chair had been
placed in the green knoll just above the
landing-place, and there Horace and Margaret
seated themselves; watching the stars in the
lake, and waiting until their darling should
return to them again.

"Your life has been an anxious one for
many years, Margaret," said Horace, after
another of their long intervals of silence had
fallen like a dark cloud over them. He was
agitated: for his voice trembled, though his
face was hidden by his slouched hat, and
Margaret could not see it.

"Yes," she answered quietly; " since my
dear father's death, when Ada was left to my
care—I so young and she a mere infant—I
have had many hours of care and anxious
thought. But I have come out into the calm
and sunshine now. My darling has grown
up all that the tenderest mother could demand
for her child; and I am more than repaid
by the beauty of the nature which perhaps
I helped to form, by the power of my own
love and the sacrifice of my whole life."

"Ah, Margaret!" cried Horace, warmly—
"queen in soul as well as in name; queen of
all womanly virtues and of all heroic powers,
my heart swells with gratitude and love
when I think of all that you have been to
Ada; of how you have fed her life with your
own, and emptied your cup of happiness into
her's. Dear Margaret!—friend more than
sister—what do we not owe you of boundless
love, of infinite return!"

Margaret did not speak. Her heart was
beating loud and fast, and her eyes, heavy
with joy, were bent on the ground. But the
lashes and the black brows were portals which
suffered no meaning to pass beyond them;
and Horace did not read the revelation
written in those eyes, which else might have
arrested, if it had not changed, the future.

"And now, Margaret," continued Horace,
"you know how dear you are to me. You
know that your happiness will be my chief
care, and to honour and cherish you my joy
as well as my duty." Margaret's thin hands
closed convulsively on each other; she bent
nearer to him unconsciously—her head almost
on his shoulder. "You know how much I
have loved you and our fairy child there, and
how this love has gradually closed round the
very roots of my heart, till now I can scarcely
distinguish it from my life, and would not
esteem my life without it. Tell me, Margaret,
you consent to my prayer. That you
consent to deliver up to my keeping your very
heart and soul, the treasure of your love
and the passion of your life. Will you
make me so blessed, Margaret,—dearest
Margaret?"

She turned her eyes upon him, dark with
love, and moist and glad. Her arms opened
to receive him and to press him close upon her
heart; and her lips trembled as she
breathed softly, " Yes, Horace, yes, I will
give you all."

"Dearest!—best! "he cried. " Friend, sister,
beloved Margaret! how can I thank you for
your trust in me—how reward your gift?
Ada!—my Ada!" and his voice rang through
the island, the little one coming at its call,

"Here, to me, child adored!" he continued"
snatching her to him; " here to your home;
to your husband's heart, first thanking your
more than mother there for the future, which,
my love, infinite as Heaven, shall make one long
day of joy and happiness to you. Thank her,
Ada—thank her! for she has given me more
than her own life."

" Horace!" groaned Margaret, covering
her face with her hands. " This is a pain
too great; a sacrifice too hard. My heart
will break. God, do Thou aid me!"

The passsionate agony of that voice checked
even Horace in his joy. It was too grieving,
too despairing, to be heard unmoved. The
man's eyes filled up with tears, and his lip
quivered. " Poor Margaret!" he said to