in a tumult of expectation,
but now the color faded from her cheek, and the breath as it rose
trembling from her bosom seemed to oppress her. It was but for a
moment. Scarcely had his hand closed upon hers when her heart was free
from the shadow that had fallen upon it, and a sweet joy possessed her
wholly. She allowed his arm to circle her waist unresisted, and when
he laid a hand caressingly on one cheek and drew the other to his
bosom, that cheek was glowing like a rose in the sunshine.

For some moments they sat together in profound silence, she trembling
with excess of happiness, he gazing upon her with a sort of sidelong
and singular expression of the eye, that had something calculating and
subtle in it, but which changed entirely when she drew back her head
and lifted the snowy lids that had closed softly over her eyes the
moment she felt the beating of his heart.

"And so you have come at last?" she said very softly, and drawing back
with a blush, as if the fond attitude she had fallen into were
something to which she had hitherto been unused. "Are you alone? I
thought--"

"I know, sweet one, I know that you will hardly forgive me," said the
young man, and his voice was of that low, rich tone that possesses
more than the power of eloquence. "But I could not persuade the
clergyman to come down hither in my company. Your father's power
terrifies him!"

"And he would not come? He refuses to unite us then--and we are
here--alone and thus!" cried Florence Hurst, withdrawing herself from
his arm.

"Not so, sweet one, your delicacy need not be startled thus. He is
coming with a friend, and will stop at the village till I send over to
say that all is quiet here. He is terribly afraid that the old
gentleman may suspect something and follow us."

"Alas, my proud old father!" cried Florence, for a moment giving way
to the thoughts of regretful tenderness that would find entrance to
her heart amid all its tumultuous feelings.

"And do you regret that you have risked his displeasure, which, loving
you as he does, must be only momentary, for one who adores you,
Florence?" replied the young man, in a tone of tender reproach that
thrilled over her heart-strings like music.

"No, no, I do not regret, I never can! but oh, how much of heaven
would be in this hour if he but approved of what we are about to do!"

"But he will approve in time, beloved, believe me he will," said the
young man, clasping both her hands in hi