thankful to God for thus granting the realisation of all those unconscious hopes, that had entwined themselves with every hour of her late existence. Her mother opened the door, and aroused her.

"What in the world made you fly away so, Mildred? I was going to tell you that Mrs. George expects us to tea. I told Peter to come to us there."

"I would rather not go out this evening," observed Mildred, who really was extremely agitated.

I promised Mrs. George, child; so put your bonnet on again. What is the matter with you? You need not be so struck at what I have said. Did it never occur to you that William would probably choose you for his wife?"

"I thought," answered Mildred, giving vent, in her emotion, to the idea that was uppermost in her heart, "I thought he was likely to marry Miss Travice."

"Marry that fly-away thing!" repeated Mrs. Dan, her astonishment taking away her breath. "Charlotte Travice may be all very well for a visitor, here to-day and gone to-morrow, but she is not suitable for the wife of a steady, gentlemanly young man like William Arkell; the only son of the most respected manufacturer in Riverton. What a pretty notion of marriage you must have!"

Mildred began to think so too.

"I shall not be long putting on my shawl, my dear; don't keep me waiting," proceeded Mrs. Dan. "It is past their tea-time.”

Implicit obedience had been one of the virtues ever practised by Mildred, so she said no more. She would have greatly preferred to remain at home that evening, and take the chance of William's visiting her, rather than have met him now, for the first time, in company. But as she walked with her mother to the house of their relatives, she could not help thinking, in the midst of her happiness, that William might have broken the subject to herself, previously to imparting it to his family. And when, upon her arrival, he greeted her carelessly as usual, "How d'ye do, Mildred, you are late!" shaking hands with her as coolly as if nothing had happened, she said to herself that he seemed to take her consent as a matter of course-as if it were not worth the asking.

When tea was over, Mr. Arkell, his wife, and sister-in-law, sat down to cribbage. Miss Travice was requested to take the fourth hand; and William and his cousin sat apart.

"I say, Mildred," began Mr. William in a confidential whisper, “did my mother call at your house this afternoon?"

Mildred looked down, and played with her pretty gold neck-chain: it was one William had given her.

"My aunt called, I believe," she answered. "I was out."

"Then I suppose you have not heard anything-anything particular ?" he rejoined.

"My mother said that Aunt George-had been-speaking to her," answered Mildred, not very well knowing how to frame her sentence "Ah! Mildred, you sly girl, you won't tell!" he exclaimed, playfully taking her hand, and retaining it.

She could not answer; but the blush on her cheek was so bright, that William gazed at her fondly, and thought he had never seen his cousin's face so near akin to beauty.

"Your cheek tells tales, cousin mine, and I see you know all about it," he resumed. "What do you think of my choice?"

"People will say you might have made many a better,” she answered. "I don't care if they do," returned Mr. William, firing up. "I have a right to please myself, and I will please myself. I am not taking a wife for them, but for me-mischievous meddling-makers! I have plenty of money, you know, Mildred, so I don't want to look for it in choosing a wife."

Very true," murmured Mildred.

"I wonder whether she has brought it out to the governor?" resumed the young gentleman, nodding towards his mother. "I don't think she has, for his manner this evening is just the same as usual. She'll make it the subject of a curtain-lecture to-night, for a guinea!”

Mildred stole a glance at her uncle. He was intent on his cards, good old man, his spectacles pushed up on his ample brow.

"Do you know, Mildred," added William, "I was half afraid to come to the point with them. I dreaded opposition, and strenuous opposition, especially from my mother-though I hardly know why. I never was more surprised in my life than when she said I had made her happy by my choice."

"What could they urge against it-except the want of money?" inquired Mildred, timidly.

"Nothing at all," answered the gentleman, in a tone of resentment: "that is, nothing reasonable. Only parents are always so fidgety over their children's marriages. I declare to you, Mildred, I was a regular coward about telling them; and once I thought of speaking to you first, and getting you to break the subject to my mother: you are such a favourite."

"It would have been a novel mode of procedure," thought Mildred to herself.

"We must have the wedding in a month," continued William. “I won't wait a day longer. I have seen a lovely little house, just suitable for us, and

"You might have asked me first, I think," interrupted Mildred, "before you fixed the time."

"What for? Will not one time do for you as well as another ?" Miss Arkell looked up at her cousin. He seemed to be talking very strangely.

"You need make no preparations, Mildred, to speak of," resumed Mr. William: "only a dress and a bonnet. And as I suppose they will be alike, yours and Charlotte's-it's orthodox, is it not, for the bride and bridesmaid to be dressed the same-my mother can take all the arrangement of that."

"So you have fixed upon the bridesmaid!" exclaimed Mildred. "Who did that?"

"Charlotte herself. But no plans are decided on. The fact is, I thought it quite enough, for one day, to let out a hint of matters to the old folks, without entering into details."

"With regard to a bridesmaid," observed Mildred, "Mary Pembroke has always been promised"

"Now, Mildred, I won't have any of those Pembroke girls at my wedding," interrupted William. "What you and my mother can see in

them to be so fond of, I can't think. Provided you have no objection, let it be as Charlotte says."

"I think Charlotte takes more upon herself than she has any cause to do," returned Mildred, who could not, even yet, divest herself of a sore feeling towards Miss Travice.

"I'll tell her, if you don't mind, Mildred," laughed William.

What further elucidation might have taken place, was cut short by the entrance of Peter Arkell. He took the fourth seat at the card-table, and Miss Travice joined William and his cousin.

There was an old harpsichord in the next room, and to this the three resorted. Miss Travice could accomplish a few tunes upon it: a great thing in those slow and moderate days. She sat down to it now, and William brought his flute and played with her. He was a most accomplished musician, and Mildred sat enraptured, listening to him, as she had done hundreds of times before.

The sore feeling towards one of her companions, lying in Mildred's heart, increased; for William Arkell's whole attention was given to Charlotte Travice. For one word that he vouchsafed to Mildred, he addressed fifty to her. They seemed absorbed in each other, neglecting Mildred. "No matter," she murmured to herself, "no matter; I shall soon be his chosen wife so let me not begrudge some of his kind feelings to another." And while she was thus thinking, they were called to

supper.

"What a lovely night it is!" uttered Peter Arkell, as he stood at the hall-door, when they were about to leave.

"It is that!" added William, looking out. with you. What are they all stopping for?"

"I think I'll have a run

He need not have said "all." Mildred was at his elbow, ready and waiting. It was her mother who lingered.

"Have you spoken to her, Betty?" whispered Mrs. George, keeping her sister-in-law at the back of the hall, in defiance of the impatient

group.

"I spoke to her as soon as she came home: it was that made us a little later than we should have been," was Mrs. Dan's reply.

"She is not in opposition? You see I don't open the subject to my husband, until we are sure of Mildred," explained Mrs. George Arkell. "She will not object to William ?"

"Not she," uttered Mrs. Dan. "I'll tell you a secret, Grizzel," continued the old lady. "I am pretty sure, by what I have observed, and by Mildred's agitation to-day, that she has been in love with William for years. I have long suspected it: but, you see, it was not a thing for me to speak of before."

"I say, aunt, are you coming to-night or to-morrow?" called out William.

"I am coming now, my dear," replied Mrs. Dan, and she walked forward and took her son's arm. William followed with Mildred.

"Now don't you go and tell all the world to-morrow about this wedding of ours," was his first observation to his cousin. "Don't you get

chattering to those Pembroke girls."

"How can you suppose such a thing likely?" she retorted.

"Why I know you young ladies are fond of gossiping; especially if you get hold of such a subject as this."

"I don't think I have ever deserved the name of a gossip," observed Mildred, quietly. "Well, Mildred, I do not know that you have. But it is not all girls who have your calm good sense. I thought I would just give you a

caution." "William," she said, anxiously, "you are scarcely like yourself tonight. To suppose a caution, in this case, necessary for me

He had begun to whistle, and did not answer her. It was a verse of a song, popular in those days. When he had whistled it through, he stopped and spoke.

"How bright the stars are to-night, Mildred! I think we shall have a frost."

Inexperienced as Mildred was, in such matters, she could not help feeling that he was wonderfully cool, in his capacity of lover, especially for the day of declaration; and whilst she was hesitating, and wondering, he began whistling again. A verse of another song this time. Mildred looked up at him when it was about half over. His face was turned towards the heavens, but she could see it plainly in the light of the night. He was evidently thinking much more of the stars than he was thinking of her, for his eyes were roving from one constellation to another and she remained silent also.

"So you like my choice, Mildred ?" he began again.

"Choice of what?" she asked.

"Choice of what!—as if you did not know! Choice of a wife." "How is it you play so with my feelings this evening?" she exclaimed, the tears rushing to her

eyes.

"I have not played with them, that I know of," retorted Mr. William. "You are getting fanciful."

She could not trust her voice to reply. So the gentleman tried again one of his favourite airs.

"I proposed that we should be married in London, amongst her friends," he resumed, presently; "but she seems to think it will be just as well to conclude it down here."

Amongst whose friends?" inquired Mildred, in amazement.

"Charlotte's. But it is better as it is decided. For in that case you could not have been bridesmaid-not to speak of all the bother of a journey beforehand."

"I bridesmaid !" exclaimed Mildred, all the blood in her heart seeming to rush to her brain, as a suspicion of the terrible truth flashed into it, like light. "Bridesmaid to whom ?"

"You are dreaming, Mildred!" he ejaculated, stopping and looking at her.

"What do you mean ?-who is going to marry?" she reiterated. "Why, what have we been talking of all the evening?-what did my mother say to you to-day? What has come to you, Mildred? You certainly are dreaming."

"We have been playing at cross purposes," gasped Mildred. "Tell me who it is you are going to marry."

"Charlotte Travice. Who else should I be?"

Mildred's home was in sight, but, before they reached the door, William felt her hang heavily and more heavily on his arm. He bent forward to catch a glimpse of her features, under her bonnet, and then he Oct.-VOL. CII. NO. CCCCVI.

found that she was losing consciousness. "Mildred, my dear, what is it ?" he asked, kindly, passing his arın round her. "Here, Peter! aunt!" he called hurriedly out, "just come back! here's something the matter with Mildred!"

"She has fainted!" exclaimed Peter, in alarm. "Mother, did you ever know Mildred faint in all her life?"

"It was that cream tart at supper!" lamented Mrs. Daniel. "I told Mildred she ought not to touch pastry at night."

And so this was to be the ending of all her cherished dreams! Mildred watched in her chamber the whole of that livelong night: there was no sleep, no rest, no hope for her: and she felt that so long as life should last, the desolation that had overtaken her could never be entirely driven out of her heart.

She saw, now, that some extraordinary mistake had occurred, either on her mother's part, or on Mrs. George Arkell's: and that William had not asked to marry her, but Miss Travice. Not the least painful part of the business would be to undeceive her mother. We may at once mention that the misapprehension was on the side of Mrs. George Arkell. She had so thoroughly imbued herself with the notion that Mildred would some time be the wife of her son, that this, added to William's haste and obscurity when he broached the subject and he did nothing more-had caused the strange mistake: though she had heard the name of Miss Travice introduced, she fully comprehended that her part was only to be that of bridesmaid.

In accordance with this misapprehension, did Mrs. George disclose the news to her husband. And the old gentleman, immediately on the conclusion of breakfast the following morning, called his son into his pre

sence.

"So, young sir," he began, "you are wanting, I hear, to encumber yourself with a wife! Don't you think you had better have taken one in your leading-strings?"

"I am twenty-five, sir," returned William, drawing himself up with offended dignity. "And you have often said that you hoped to see me

settled before

"Before I died. Very true, you graceless dog. But do you mean to say you want me to die yet, or are in fear of it ?"

"God forbid!" echoed William.

"Well," continued the good manufacturer-and William had known from the first, by the tone of his voice and the twinkle in his eye, that he was pleased rather than angry-"I cannot say but you have chosen a worthy wife, though she is portionless."

"Our business is an excellent one," interrupted William. out for money with a wife would be almost superfluous."

"To look

"Not exactly that," smiled Mr. Arkell," but I suppose we can't have everything. She has been a dutiful and affectionate daughter, William, and she will make you a good wife. I should have been better pleased though were you not related."

"Related?" exclaimed William.

"For I share in the prejudice that exists against cousins marrying," proceeded Mr. Arkell. "But I am not going to make it an objection now: as you may suppose, when I tell you that I foresaw, long ago, what your intimacy would probably lead to.