amely, my poultry-yard. I hear
the bipeds clamorous for their supper."

"This is the woman," thought Frances, "that I have sometimes wondered
Howard, with his reflecting mind, could select as his partner for life!
Because I saw her, like the Deity she worships, attending to the most
minute affairs, I foolishly imagined she comprehended no others."

From this time the two sisters resembled in union Shakspeare's twin
cherries growing on one stem.

CHAPTER III.

The furniture arrived, and the country residence was very soon in order.
Howard took the direction of the farming part. But it was no object to
Frances to have much ploughing or planting. She loved the "green
pastures and still waters," and often repeated those beautiful lines of
the hymn--

"To dewy vales and flowery meads,
My weary, fainting steps he leads,
Where peaceful rivers, soft and slow,
Amid the verdant landscape flow."

Clyde Farm was a singularly retired spot, notwithstanding its vicinity to
a country village, which, on a straight line, was about two miles from
it. But there was a high hill between, that belonged to the farm, and
was crowned with oak and chestnut trees; while here and there was an
opening which gave a perfect view of the village, with its church,
academy, and square four-story tavern, with windows enough to give it the
appearance of a huge lantern. The high road was a mile from the house,
and no dwelling was nearer. The hill overlooked one of those New England
landscapes that could not be wrought into a well-composed picture;
objects were too abundant; it was dotted with farms and sheets of water;
and beyond, the beautiful Merrimac wound its way. On this spot, Frances
had a little open pavilion erected, and it was her resort at sunset. As
her health improved, her mind opened to the impressions of happiness, and
she grew almost gay. "There is but one thing more," said she to her
brother and sister, "that I now desire in this world."

"Always one thing wanting for us poor mortals!" said Charlotte; "but let
us hear what it is."

"That my husband, who is the liberal donor of my enjoyment, should
partake of it."

"Pray be contented," replied she, "and let him enjoy himself in his own
way."

"I have a letter for you," said Howard, "that came enclosed in one to
me;" and, with an air of hesitation, he gave it to her.

Frances hastily took it; her color came and went as she read. It
informed her, tha