on the calm clear water, and mingled with the shadows of the trees upon the banks, to which the sun, shining through the tall oaks, gave occasionally a transparent glitter, as of emeralds or beryls; swallows skimmed over the lake, flitting around and about, after the myriads of insects that buzzed in the summer air; the white waterlily lay in its pure beauty in the midst of its deep green leaves; the foxglove and the wild vetch were glowing in the woods; the meadow-sweet, the willow herb, and the golden flag, fringed the banks; cows stood cooling their limbs in the shallow indented bays, and a flock of sheep was lying at rest in the distant meadows.

Altogether it was a scene of sweet and soothing beauty; and Mrs. Villars was looking for Ellen, to partake in her enjoyment (for Ellen, Mrs. Ashton had told her, was gone down to the mere), when, in a small cove at the other side of the lake, she beheld in a fine effect of sunny light, the boat, their own identical green boat, resting quietly on the water, with two persons sitting in it, seemingly in earnest conversation. One of the figures was most undoubtedly Ellen. Her astonished friend recognized at a glance her lead-coloured gown, her straw bonnet, and that peculiar air and attitude which gave grace and beauty to her simple dress. The other was a man, tall as it seemed, and elegant-most certainly a gentleman. Mrs. Villars even fancied that the height and bearing had a strong resemblance to her own dear nephew, Harry; and immediately a painful suspicion

of the possible cause of Ellen's leaving Miss Egerton forced itself upon her mind. Harry had perhaps found the lady's maid no less charming than her mistress. A thousand trifling circumstances in favour of this opinion rushed on her recollection: Ellen's blushes when Harry was accidentally named; her constant avoidance of all mention of the family in which she had resided; the great inequality of her spirits; her shrinking from the very sight of chance visitors; the emotion amounting to pain, which any remarkable instance of kindness or confidence never failed to occasion her; and, above all, the many times in which, after seeming on the point of making some avowal to her kind patroness, she had drawn suddenly back: all these corroborating circumstances pressed at once, with startling distinctness, on Mrs. Villars's memory; and, full of care, she returned to the farm, to cross-question Mrs. Ashton.

Never was examination more thoroughly unsatisfactory. Mrs. Ashton was that provoking and refractory thing, a reluctant witness. First she disputed the facts of the case: "Had Mrs. Villars seen the boat? Was she sure that she had seen it? Was it actually their own green boat? Did it really contain two persons? And was the female certainly Ellen?" All these questions being answered in the affirmative, Mrs. Ashton shifted her ground, and asserted, that "if the female in question were certainly Ellen, her companion must with equal certainty have been the boatman, Bob Green, Hopping

Bob,' as he was called;" and the farmer coming in at the moment, she called on him to support her assertion, which, without hearing a word of the story, he did most positively, as an obedient husband should do "Yes, for certain, it must be Hopping Bob! It could be no other!"

"Hopping Bob!" ejaculated Mrs. Villars, whose patience was by this time well nigh exhausted: " Hopping Bob! when I have told you that the person in the boat was a young man, a tall man, a slim man, a gentleman! Hopping Bob, indeed!" and before the words were fairly uttered, in hopped Bob himself.

To Mrs. Villars, this apparition gave unqualified satisfaction, by affording, as she declared, the most triumphant evidence of an alibi ever produced in or out of a court of justice. Her opponent, however, was by no means disposed to yield the point. She had perfect confidence in Bob's quickness of apprehension, and no very strong fear of his abstract love of truth, and determined to try the effect of a leading question. She immediately, therefore, asked him, with much significance of manner, "whether he had not just landed from the lake, and reached the farm by the short cut across the coppice?" adding, "that her niece had probably walked towards the boat-house to meet Mrs. Villars, and that Bob had better go and fetch her."

This question, however, produced no other answer than a long shrill whistle from the sagacious boatman.

Whether Mrs. Ashton over-rated his ability, or underrated his veracity, or whether his shrewdness foresaw that detection was inevitable, and that it would "hurt his conscience to be found out," whichever were the state of the case, he positively declined giving any evidence on the question; and after standing for a few moments eying his hostess with a look of peculiar knowingness, vented another long whistle, and hopped off again!

Mrs. Villars, all her fears confirmed, much disgusted with the farmer, and still more so with the farmer's wife, was also departing, when just as she reached the porch, she saw two persons advancing from the lake to the house-her nephew, Harry Villars, and Ellen leaning on his arm!

With a countenance full of grieved displeasure, she walked slowly towards them. Harry sprang forward to meet her: "Hear me but for one moment, my dearest. aunt! Listen but to four words, and then say what you will. This is my wife."

"Your wife! why, I thought you loved Miss Eger

ton?"

'Well, and this is, or rather happily for me, Miss Egerton;" replied Harry, smiling.

this was

"Miss Egerton!" exclaimed the amazed and half incredulous Mrs. Villars, "Miss Egerton! Ellen, that was not smart enough for Joseph-the fine lady that sent me the rose-scented note!-Ellen, at the farm, the great heiress! my own good little Ellen!"

"Ay, my dear aunt,—your own Ellen, and my own Ellen, blessings on that word! When we were parted on a foolish political quarrel between our fathers, she was sent, under the care of her cousin, Lady Jerningham, to Florence. Lady Jerningham was much my friend.She not only persuaded Ellen into marrying me privately, but managed to make the General believe that his daughter continued her inmate abroad; whilst Mrs. Ashton, another good friend of mine, contrived to receive her at home. We have been sad deceivers," continued Harry, “and at last Ellen, fettered by a promise of secresy, which your kindness tempted her every moment She wrote to

to break, could bear the deceit no longer.

her father, and I spoke to mine; and they are reconciled, and all is forgiven. I see that you forgive us," added he, as his sweet wife lay sobbing on Mrs. Villars' bosom," I see that you forgive her; and you must forgive me, too, for her dear sake. Your pardon is essential to our happiness; for we are really to live at the park, and one of our first wishes must always be, that you may continue at the great house the kindness that you have shewn to Ellen at the farm."