ling of disquietude,
a shrinking from the memory of her simple rustic ways, which he began
to realise were incompatible with his new hopes and aspirations. It
was becoming very evident to him, therefore, that his love for her must
be banished, with all the old foolish ties and habits which bound him
to the past. A vision of the clear blue eyes, the winsome smile, the
lissom figure _would_ rise persistently before him, and alas! the
threadbare woollen gown, the wooden shoes, the pink cotton neckerchief,
were also photographed upon his brain.

He heard from Ann of her approaching marriage, no longer deferred in
expectation of his presence, and he was much relieved by this
arrangement; but still, when the morning dawned clear and frosty, he
was cross and irritable, for he could not banish from his mind the
thought of the old ivy-covered homestead, with the few gnarled trees
overshadowing its gables, its bare sea front turned bravely to the
north-west, the elder tree over the back door, the farm servants, all
with white favours pinned on their breasts; the gentle bride, the
handsome thoughtful bridegroom, the dear old father excited and merry,
and above all, Morva decked out in wedding finery! How lovely she
would look! Why was it that this sweet picture of home filled Will's
heart only with discontent and an abiding unrest? The answer is plain,
because he had determined, come what would, to sever himself from that
homely, simple life, to cast the thought of it into the background, to
live only for the future, and that future one of success and
self-aggrandisement. Morva alone held him back; how could he hope to
rise in his career, while his heart was fettered by the memory of a
milkmaid, a cowherd, a shepherdess? No, it was very evident that from
her he must break away. "But not now," he said to himself, as he paced
round the quadrangle, "not yet." She was so sweet--he loved her so
much; not yet must the severance come. "It will be time enough," so
his reverie ended, "when my future is more defined and certain, then it
will be easy to break away from poor Morva."

The invitation of which he had spoken had not been renewed, and though
he was far too proud to show his annoyance, the omission galled and
fretted his haughty nature, for the lowliness of his birth and
circumstances chafed him continually, and engendered a sensitiveness to
small annoyances which would not have troubled a nobler nature. In
spite of al