reigned around, beautiful from the richness of the brown and purple tints, varied only by an occasional fragment of grey rock, or the vivid green of a treacherous mossy hollow; the monotony too of the steady sunshine, and of the treeless expanse, to which no drifting cloud gave life or motion by its passing shadow, all combined to bring about the reaction which had already begun in Edward's bosom, and he yielded himself without restraint to the calming influences of the scene. There was much, however, to give a melancholy cast to his musings from whatever point of view he contemplated his situation; it was gloomy enough without the addition of the false shades in which his imagination had steeped it, and no alteration in his frame of mind could alter his circumstances. There still remained the facts, that he loved Mary; that his present station was not one to justify his acting upon that love; that his future prospects were not such as to make his success probable, even when he

might dare to do so! What could he hope to attain by years of toil but the junior partnership in some second-rate mining concern? and was such a position likely to overcome Mr. Hardy's prejudices against his origin? Then there was the chilling reflection that Mary was an only child, heiress of her father's fortune, and that the stain not only of presumption but of interested motives, must attach to any attempt to gain her affections.

Edward needed not the additional pang of his friend's rivalship to deepen the despair which he felt; but when he thought of Captain Rutherford, of his bright buoyant confident manner, his gay spirits, his talents, his brilliant fortune, of all his prepossessing qualities, to which he did more than justicethe chance of winning Mary's love seemed to fade away into utter impossibility. Even were his position better, the hope must be vain.

And yet, once or twice he had fancied

that she was not indifferent to him! - that

there was more than mere friendship in her manner. With lover-like inconsistency, no sooner had he satisfied himself of the hopelessness of his suit, than he ran over in his mind the whole of his intercourse with Mary, eagerly recalling the smallest circumstance that could be favourably interpreted. He thought of their former habitual companionship, of the easy footing it was upon, of the love that had grown up in his heart from daily witnessing her gentle and noble qualities, before he discovered that it was more than reverence for one so good and so far above him. He thought of the first moment when light had broken in upon his feelings, of how he had still persuaded himself that it would be happiness enough to be near her, to see her, to hear her, without breathing a word of love—without seeking for her affection in return. The coming of Captain Rutherford had dispelled this vision; then only did Edward know that the image of

Mary was interwoven with all his plans of futurity; and that, far as he was from dreaming of her as his wife, he was still farther from dreaming of her as some day to be the wife of another.

A blight fell upon his fondest hopes-it was succeeded by a fierce struggle: as Edward recalled what he had suffered before, the battle again raged in his bosom. He had been dwelling so fondly upon every indication of Mary's good will, that hope rose up once more. He might yet win her, he might conquer in spite of all opposition he would venture all, and throw himself and his fortunes at her feet. Himself, alas! what was henameless and unknown: his fortunes -what were they, to be put in the balance against a father's displeasure? What right had he to close the brilliant future that seemed opening before her? He drove the

wild thought back into the

heart. Nothing was left for

recesses of his

him but to sa

crifice his happiness to hers. That he might

still do, and there was consolation in the very pain it cost him. He would force himself to stand aside and see Captain Rutherford enter the lists, win the prize, and wear it he would stir no step, although his heart should break!

Edward rose from the nook where he had so long been lying; his step was firm and his bearing lofty as he turned homewards. He had no doubt of his power to maintain the heroic resolution he had formed, but without wishing to detract from his merits, it is just possible that a little remaining pique at the morning's neglect may have helped him to estimate the difficulty lightly. He had not gone far before the sound of voices and of horses' feet upon the turf made him turn round, and Miss Marshall, Captain Rutherford, and Arthur galloped up to him.

Where then was Mary?

"Why, Edward! how come you here?" shouted Captain Rutherford. "You and