have done much already. Struggle on and do not waste your strength in brooding over fancied grievances."

"It is not the necessity of fighting my way upwards that disheartens me. I do not think that anything human exertion could remove would dismay me; but there is one weight that no effort of mine can lift off, a weight which keeps me back in the race I would willingly run-the mystery attaching to my birth."

"I have always feared that you felt this severely; but, indeed, you dwell upon it too much. There is no reason to suppose that mystery involves disgrace, and I do not see how the mere want of information can affect your success in the career that you have chosen."

"It tells against me in many ways. I have no fixed place in society; I may be treated as a gentleman one day, as a menial another; even your father-do you think I am too blind to discover how strong his prejudices are against me?"

"It will be the more honourable to conquer them," answered Mary; but this was a point upon which she could not administer as much comfort as she wished, so turning the conversation she asked if there was no hope of further information from Mr. Winstead.

"I have tried over and over again, and always in vain," said Edward; "but I think I will write once more."

"Meanwhile do not become melancholy, discontented, and envious again. Mind these are my positive orders.”

"You have put fresh life in me, Miss Hardy; I envy no one now."

"Not even Captain Rutherford? "

"There is but one thing in the world that could make me envy him."

What that one thing was Mary had an intuitive perception that it would be wiser not to ask, and Edward, elated as he felt by her interest in him, had prudence enough not to tell.

They were interrupted, too, by a call from their companions, who urged a little more speed, as it was growing late. Captain Rutherford, who never could resist the temptation of flirting with any young lady that fell in his way, especially under the pale starlight of a summer evening, found himself proceeding so fast with the fair Anna Maria, and receiving from her such sentimental answers, that he had taken fright, and wished his tête-à-tête broken off. They accordingly proceeded onwards at a rapid pace, and found Aunt Jane already disposed to think them very late.

CHAPTER VII.

And falling on my wearied brain,

Like a fast falling shower,

The dreams of youth come back again.

LONGFELLOW.

EDWARD reflected seriously upon his conversation with Mary, and the more he reflected, the more encouraging he thought it. Two most important facts seemed to him clear; one, that Mary did not look down upon him on account of his mysterious birth; the other, that she was, for the present at least, quite indifferent to Captain Rutherford.

A ray of hope gilded his horizon, and by its light he looked back with wonder upon his late irritable and discontented feelings. Still determined to adhere to the line of

conduct he had marked out as that required of him by honour, namely, neither by word nor deed to express his love, or to stand in the way of a more advantageous alliance, he did not deny himself the cheering prospect of at length attaining a position that would warrant his pretensions to Mary's hand. He looked upon his upward struggle with less despair, and felt that with such a hope before him, he could do and suffer everything. Satisfied that he was acting rightly, animated by a modest reliance on his own powers, and a secret trust in Mary's good opinion, Edward was once more himself. Active, energetic, cheerful, he no longer withdrew in a marked manner from the society of Allerton, but joined in their amusements as heartily, though less frequently than before. Arthur ceased to complain of indifference to his pony's merits, Mrs. Marshall found no necessity to administer her favourite specifics, there was a temporary lull in Aunt Jane's objurgations,