but somehow on this occasion
there was visible on both sides more restraint than either had ever yet
shown. At length, the preliminary chat having ceased, a silence ensued,
which, after a little time, was broken by Margaret, who, Art could
perceive, blushed deeply as she spoke.

"So, Art, you and Frank are goin' to lave us."

"It's not with my own consint I'm goin', Margaret," he replied. As he
uttered the words he looked at her; their eyes met, but neither could
stand the glance of the other; they were instantly withdrawn.

"I'll not forget my friends, at all events," said Art; "at least,
there's some o' them I won't, nor wouldn't either, if I was to get a
million o' money for doin' so."

Margaret's face and neck, on hearing this, were in one glow of crimson,
and she kept her eyes still on the ground, but made no reply. At
length she raised them, and their glances met again; in that glance the
consciousness of his meaning was read by both, the secret was disclosed,
and their love told.

The place where they stood was in one of those exquisitely wild but
beautiful green country lanes that are mostly enclosed on each side
by thorn hedges, and have their sides bespangled with a profusion
of delicate and fragrant wild flowers, while the pathway, from the
unfrequency of feet, is generally covered with short daisy-gemmed grass,
with the exception of a trodden line in the middle that is made solely
by foot-passengers. Such was the sweet spot in which they stood at the
moment the last glance took place between them.

At length Margaret spoke, but why was it that her voice was such music
to him now? Musical and sweet it always was, and he had heard it a
thousand times before, but why, we ask, was it now so delicious to his
ear, so ecstatic to his heart? Ah, it was that sweet, entrancing little
charm which trembled up from her young and beating heart, through its
softest intonations; this low tremor it was that confirmed the tale
which the divine glance of that dark, but soft and mellow eye, had just
told him. But to proceed, at length she spoke--

"Arthur," said the innocent girl, unconscious that she was about to do
an act for which many will condemn her, "before you go, and I know I
will not have an opportunity of seein' you again, will you accept of a
keepsake from me?"

[Illustration: PAGE AM994-- At length Margaret spoke]

"Will I? oh, Margaret, Margaret!"--he gazed at her, but could not
proceed, his heart w