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read the fifteenth chapter of St. Luke's Gos- which I had heard only the day before, but pel. As I announced it I involuntarily which, however solemn then, now seemed glanced at Ralph. He did not need to seek to have a new and thrilling minor key. I it-his Bible opened at the place, for the could scarcely trust my voice in the few page was marked by a dried spray of that simple responses, but there was one whose delicate fern which is, I think, called tones rang out clear and firm in each. It "maiden-hair." was Ewen. Somehow, I could not look at him. Without a glance, I could see his figure standing behind the bridegroom, generally erect, though the head/bowed once or twice. Ah, the wedding might seem dreary in its solemn love and daring, bare of all those sweet little charities which generally drape such scenes in mists of tearful smiles and smiling tears, but many a bridal, with troops of congratulating friends, might envy that one loyal and true wedding guest, poor indeed, lowly as yet, though I think the day may come when Agnes will be proud to say who stood behind her bridegroom-but who bravely brought all he had, even his own heart, and laid it as a willing offering on the marriage altar.

When we arose from our knees, it was time to prepare for church. Ralph was the first to depart, Ewen would join him on the road-the only wedding guest beside ourselves. We waited at our window until Agnes appeared, coming steadily and gravely along the road. Then we left our house, and she came up to us with a quiet simple salutation, and took her place by my sister's side. But behind her, followed an attendant on whom we had not counted, even the great dog Griff, walking with a dignified solemnity fit for the occasion. "Yes, he must come," said his mistress, responding to our glances. Griff goes with us. Ralph arranged that. Griff is a faithful old friend, and must not be left behind."

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"He will wait in the porch," she answered.

I scarcely liked to ask about her parting with her uncle, but presently she raised her eyes and said, "I have said good-bye to uncle. He did not give me a chance of saying a word; but he knows he is not likely to see me again, and he spoke very kindly." And there the low voice faltered, and the brown eyes filled with tears, which did not overflow, as very sad tears seldom

do.

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We went up the churchyard way, and entered the silent house of God, with its long, misty sunbeams slanting over the empty pews. Ralph and Ewen stood in the chancel in the coloured light of the stained window. The rector saw Our entrance through the half-open vestry door, and he came out, gowned, and went behind the communion rails.

There was a moment's silence- — a pause — before the mysterious gate through which two lives would pass into one. Agnes was the calmer of the two, with her pale face and veiled eyes, for I saw Ralph grasp the rail before him, like one thankful for any support, while his eyes wandered vaguely to the scrolls above the table, and his lips moved in unconscious recitation of those words whose full, sweet meaning scarcely seemed for him: "Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear Him."

Then the service began the service

One or two hearty sobs, startling the rector's eyes from his book, warned us that some interested spectator had stolen upon our solitude; and when all was over, and we left the vestry, where Agnes had signed the name that she need not change, and Ruth had kissed her, and I had blessed her, and Ewen had touched her handvery lightly -and said never a word, then we found Sarah Irons seated on a back seat, indulging herself in a "good cry." And I was glad to see that Ralph Herbert did not shrink from the honest servant's fond embrace. Ah, surely henceforth every woman, however plain and homely, will be sacred to him for the sake of one! The old Crusaders held their chivalry in the name of "Our Ladye." And should not every man be gentler and braver for the sake of the woman in his heart, whether her image stand at a hearth or in a shrine?

"I've left a letter for you from the master at your house, sir," whispered Sarah, detaining me a minute after the young people passed out. "O' course I don't know what's in it, but it can't part 'em now, thank God!"

No bells, no whispering faces, no huzzas, only the breeze stirring a little in the newbudded boughs, and one or two villagers looking from their doors, with a little wonder and curiosity, to see the squire's son and niece once more walking together, and that as quietly and soberly as if it were quite a matter of course.

According to instructions, we found a substantial meal spread in our parlour, and Phillis in watchful, corcious attendance. 'The letter from Mr. Herbert lay beside my

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And she turned and obeyed the deep bay of Griff, impatiently awaiting her within the house. I stayed at the gate until she crossed the garden, and fairly closed the house-door behind her. But she never turned her head.

There was a solemnity about the aspect of affairs, which crept over each of us. The very morning was solemn not cloudy, but with a low-toned steady sun-light, and a cool still air. The shadows on our garden plot did not dance, but lay straight and still. The parlour too, with the signs of ordinary life all banished, had a conventual air, consistent with bated voices and silent smiles. But even silent smiles were lacking. Yet when I thought of all this day was in Ralph's life, I could not wonder at his pale grave face, or the reddened lightless eyes that told of a sleepless night. True, he had achieved a great happiness-to him, unworthy as he felt himself, had fallen that good gift which Solomon tells us comes directly from the Lord." But I liked the youth no less because he took his blessing with awe and trembling, nor because he did not prepare to leave his fatherland with a laugh upon his lips. Alone, he might have gone recklessly enough. Going alone, he might have said his native country cast him off, and so turned his face to another shore, and never looked behind. But now that one went

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And that was the night before the with him, nothing fearing, he felt tenderly wedding.

CHAPTER XXXII.

A WEDDING WITHOUT BELLS.

OUR breakfast party on the wedding morning was somewhat constrained and silent. Ralph had joined us very late the night before, and we had then no time for conversation, nor did we seem inclined for any when we gathered round the table for our morning meal. We were in our trim for the ceremony, that is to say I wore my neatest tie, and Ruth her best silk dress, for no other attempt at gala attire was possible. The parlour too was "tidied" in Ruth's strictest sense of the word; not a shred of work or writing remained about, and the china bowls and vases were duly filled with fresh primroses and hyacinths. That was the extent of our preparation. But when Phillis brought in our toast and new-laid eggs, I thought by her glance at our visitor that she had a shrewd guess at what was going forward, though she had heard no remark to lead her to such conclusion, and though there was nothing in the refreshments which Ruth had ordered to awaken conjecture. For there could be no sugary wedding breakfast, with cakes, and champagnes, and trifles, but a repast of savoury joints and poultry, substantial enough to carry the young couple to their seaport destination.

for the old place that spared him its best, and his heart yearned over the very fields where he had walked and talked with one so pure and true. I daresay his feeling was something like that expressed in those lines of an old song, which I remember once reading, where one emigrant says to another

""Tis not the future makes me grieve:
But though the past is sad,
I weep my grateful thanks to God

For pleasant times I've had!"

Of course he made one at our little service of family worship. It is our custom to hold that service immediately after breakfast. Ruth and I agreed that it was inconsiderate to summons servants to such a duty before they had taken some refreshment after their early household work. At the risk of being thought a monotonous formalist, I must explain our form of worship. I take our prayers from the book of Common Prayer-first, the general confession of sin, then the prayer for all conditions of men, concluding with the collect for the preceding Sunday, and that is all, except on any special occasion, when I take a special petition from the Litany. For a Scripture portion I read the New Testament lesson for the day. I have often noticed how strangely appropriate these appointed portions seem, and never more so than when, on this 4th of March, I found it my duty to

read the fifteenth chapter of St. Luke's Gos- which I had heard only the day before, but pel. As I announced it I involuntarily which, however solemn then, now seemed glanced at Ralph. He did not need to seek to have a new and thrilling minor key. I it-his Bible opened at the place, for the could scarcely trust my voice in the few page was marked by a dried spray of that simple responses, but there was one whose delicate fern which is, I think, called tones rang out clear and firm in each. It maiden-hair." was Ewen. Somehow, I could not look at him. Without a glance, I could see his figure standing behind the bridegroom, generally erect, though the head bowed once or twice. Ah, the wedding might seem dreary in its solemn love and daring, bare of all those sweet little charities which generally drape such scenes in mists of tearful smiles and smiling tears, but many a bridal, with troops of congratulating friends, might envy that one loyal and true wedding guest, poor indeed, lowly as yet, though I think the day may come when Agnes will be proud to say who stood behind her bridegroom-but who bravely brought all he had, even his own heart, and laid it as a willing offering on the marriage altar.

When we arose from our knees, it was time to prepare for church. Ralph was the first to depart, Ewen would join him on the road the only wedding guest beside ourselves. We waited at our window until Agnes appeared, coming steadily and gravely along the road. Then we left our house, and she came up to us with a quiet simple salutation, and took her place by my sister's side. But behind her, followed an attendant on whom we had not counted, even the great dog Griff, walking with a dignified solemnity fit for the occasion.

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Yes, he must come," said his mistress, responding to our glances. "Griff goes with us. Ralph arranged that. Griff is a faithful old friend, and must not be left behind."

"But what will he do at the church?" I asked, in dismay.

"He will wait in the porch," she answered.

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One or two hearty sobs, startling the rector's eyes from his book, warned us that some interested spectator had stolen upon our solitude; and when all was over, and we left the vestry, where Agnes had signed the name that she need not change, and Ruth had I scarcely liked to ask about her parting kissed her, and I had blessed her, and Ewen with her uncle, but presently she raised her had touched her hand-very lightly—and eyes and said, "I have said good-bye to said never a word, then we found Sarah uncle. He did not give me a chance of Irons seated on a back seat, indulging hersaying a word; but he knows he is not self in a "good cry." And I was glad to see likely to see me again, and he spoke very that Ralph Herbert did not shrink from the kindly." And there the low voice faltered, honest servant's fond embrace. Ah, sureand the brown eyes filled with tears, which ly henceforth every woman, however plain did not overflow, as very sad tears seldom do.

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We went up the churchyard way, and entered the silent house of God, with its long, misty sunbeams slanting over the empty pews. Ralph and Ewen stood in the chancel in the coloured light of the stained window. The rector saw our entrance through the half-open vestry door, and he came out, gowned, and went behind the

communion rails.

There was a moment's silence- -a pausebefore the mysterious gate through which two lives would pass into one. Agnes was the calmer of the two, with her pale face and veiled eyes, for I saw Ralph grasp the rail before him, like one thankful for any support, while his eyes wandered vaguely to the scrolls above the table, and his lips moved in unconscious recitation of those words whose full, sweet meaning scarcely seemed for him: "Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear Him."

Then the service began the service

and homely, will be sacred to him for the sake of one! The old Crusaders held their chivalry in the name of "Our Ladye." And should not every man be gentler and braver for the sake of the woman in his heart, whether her image stand at a hearth or in a shrine ?

"I've left a letter for you from the master at your house, sir," whispered Sarah, detaining me a minute after the young people passed out. "O' course I don't know what's in it, but it can't part 'em now, thank God!"

No bells, no whispering faces, no huzzas, only the breeze stirring a little in the newbudded boughs, and one or two villagers looking from their doors, with a little wonder and curiosity, to see the squire's son and niece once more walking together, and that as quietly and soberly as if it were quite a matter of course.

According to instructions, we found a substantial meal spread in our parlour, and Phillis in watchful, corcious attendance. 'The letter from Mr. Herbert lay beside my

plate, and I did not venture to touch it until dinner was over. I might have spared my fears.

"DEAR SIR" (it ran), – "I have just parted from my niece Agnes, who has been a good and dutiful niece to me, though not as wise as she might have been. Now, I do not like that the last daughter of the Herberts of Upper Mallowe should leave her home with no portion but the beggarly produce of a book of verses and stories. Therefore I enclose ten fifty-pound_notes, which I hope will be useful to her. I would have taken care to bind this sum upon her, but she's one of those women you can't take care of, because she's determined to throw herself away. I remain, yours truly, RALPH HERBERT, Šen."

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Mr. Herbert half shook off the clasp of those gentle arms, but they were firm with the might of love. If he did not own Ralph as his son, she chose him for her husband! He hesitated, and Agnes kissed him again, and her tears fell on his hands. "Let him come!" said he.

I went softly, and led him in. I did not

I silently placed the letter and its enclos-re-enter the room. Nay, I closed the door ure before the young couple. They read it through, and looked at each other.

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Ralph,” said Agnes, very softly, "now you may go and say good-bye to uncle."

"He will not see me," he answered, sadly; "and, besides, we have no time." "He will see you if I ask him now," she returned; "and we will go on our way to the station."

Their boxes had all been despatched there in a cart, and so the little journey was to be made on foot. At the gate of the Great Farm, Agnes turned and said, "Mr. Garrett and I will go in together."

behind Ralph, for there are some scenes which strange eyes ought not to see - some words which only God may hear!

Half-an-hour afterwards they came outall three. They walked together to the station, and Ewen and Ruth and I followed behind. On the platform stood old. Mr. M'Callum, and George and Miss Sanders. George had a nosegay for Agnes.

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Mr. Herbert was almost inclined to go with them to the seaport, but he did not. "It's parting either here or there," he said, so we'll get it over at once. But somebody's going to see you off, I suppose?" "I am," said Ewen. "I will be with them till the last! "You're a good fellow!" responded the farmer.

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But we found the hall-door open, and so Ralph advanced into the porch, and stood there to await his fate, while my sister and Ewen lingered beyond the garden palings. The strange stillness of the early morning had passed away, and there was a lively breeze astir. It swept through the open A shriek from the engine, and Agnes, alhall and lightly rustled the curtains of Ag-ready seated in the carriage, placed her nes' deserted parlour, and I heard the low hand in her husband's. Ewen sat opposite. of cattle from the meadows behind the Another shriek, a smile, nods, and a burst house. But Agnes did not heed the familiar of tears, and they were off. And we heard sights and sounds, she walked straight for- Griff's growl, as the dog-carriage passed us. ward to the dining-room; its door, too, God bless the bride and bridegroom! was open, and the room was in a flood of And God bless Ewen! He smiled as he fresh spring sunshine. At the far end of looked from the window; and so I know the long table, just before the quaint win- how the men smile at the stake or on the dow, with its treasures of blooming hya- rack. And yet he will be all the better for cinths and crocuses, sat Mr. Herbert. He this anguish. A pure love never harmed did not heed our footsteps-perhaps he any man. Love and sorrow have sung the did not even hear them. His arms were world's sweetest songs, and painted its fairspread over the table, and his head was laid est pictures, and achieved its greatest deeds. upon them. I don't know whether it was So some day, perhaps, Ewen will make a owing to the strong light or to his attitude, picture of an emigrant ship, and the agony but, for the first time, I noticed many white which was in his heart he will paint in the hairs among his glossy brown. Agnes faces there, so that they shall stir the souls stopped to notice nothing; she went of all that gaze thereon into that human tenstraight up to him, and sat suddenly downderness whence grows

"That best portion of a good man's life, His little nameless, unremembered acts Of kindness and of love."

him away to make room for his own feet. Now if that is not rank sentiment and just like people, I don't know what is! I should then I should have had no mark in the rug not have pushed the poor dog aside, and to cry over, and so I suppose people would say I had no feeling! But I don't care what they say.

Oh, let us thank God for the love and sorrow of genius! Yet, let us thank Him reverently, as we thank Him for all the blessings which come to us, by the sacrifice and pain of others. We take the flowers that Bessie manages the Hospital famously, blossom from the thorny stems, but they long and her nephew lives with her. Phillis is for the time when the Master's eye shall see matron at the Refuge now, and Mr. M'Calthat the fruit is ripe, and His hand shall lum says she does very we indeed. The gather it in. I remember one verse in Ag-old man would not leave his poor people nes' father's book: :

even to go and sit in the chimney corner at

"O'tis hard to hear them praise us for the mu-Meadow Farm, where Alice and her hus

sic we have learned From the sobs we choked within us, and the hidden tears that burned;

When the poet goes to God, sure he leaves his harp behind,

For the song they sing in heaven is of quite another kind."

A POSTSCRIPT BY MISS GARRETT.

Now Edward has finished his love-story, I hope he will listen to me when I want to talk to him about the Refuge or the Hospital. For it seems to me uncommonly like a love-story, though it professes to be a record of what an old man and woman are able to do, when they sit down to rest and take breath before they go into the King's presence.

We've heard from Agnes and Ralph. They are settled in Canada, and Agnes says they are doing very well, but how is one to believe her? I shall not be surprised if Mr. Herbert goes out after them. For in this world, wonders never cease. The other evening when I was at the Great Farm, in the dining-room, where that portrait's face is now decently turned forward, he almost cried while he pointed out a mark on the rug, worn by Griff's paws, where he used to hold on when Mr. Herbert tried to push

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band live in great happiness and prosperity. They have a little daughter, and Edward and I are the godfather and godmother. Alice thought she should be christened after me, and so did I, but Edward said she must be a Lucy," because that was a family name with the Westons. Family name indeed I daresay he cares a great deal for family names! But as he says nothing, I don't take any notice. If it pleases him to keep a secret, let him think he keeps it, that's all!

Ewen does not come very often to Upper Mallowe, at least he does not stay very long when he does come. He does not go to the counting-house now, but is " an artist all out," as his grandfather says. But he says he will return to business the moment his art is a labour to him, because it is not right to turn God's gift into a machine. He is a very fine young man, but I hear that people say he is stern and haughty. Nobody ever believes in a volcano which keeps itself to itself, and does not rampage and destroy everything around it.

But I can't write any more, for the Refuge bills are just sent in, and there's a basket of linen to sew for the Hospital. It's very well to write about work, but it's better to do it!

actually prove them to be so unless they are intrinsically incredible. It is not impossible that Gessler may have heard of the trial of shooting at an apple on a child's head, and determined on putting it to a practical proof. And surely there is evidence for Charles V. having ordered the performance of some ceremonies, which were, at the least, very strange and unusual, in anticipation of his death. There was something of this hypochondria in his blood, and it came out very strongly in some of his descendants. In one instance, that of Jeanne d'Arc, M. Delepierre takes the romantic view, believing that the Maid was not burnt at Rouen, but lived to be happily married afterwards.

HISTORICAL DIFFICULTIES AND CONTESTED | of their occurring in various legends does not EVENTS. By Octave Delepierre, LL. D. (Murray.)-M. Delepierre discusses various historical questions, some about which the learned still differ, and others about which they have come to an agreement, without, however, entirely destroying the popular belief. Whether the Colossus bestrode the harbour of Rhodes, whether there was ever such a personage as Pope Joan, may be taken as specimens of the latter class; the history of the library of Alexandria and the fate of Jeanne d'Arc belong to the former. M. Delepierre, who seems to have consulted all the available authorities, generally takes the sceptical side, and sometimes we think goes too far in his scepticism. Some of the details of the story of William Tell, for instance, are very probably fabulous, but the fact

Spectator.

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