in behind the party, as you
are forced to do in driving the wagon, but join Florence and Mr.
Stewart, who seem in such fine spirits this beautiful morning. I feel
too weary and feeble to talk, and William will take good care of me."

He fixed his dark eyes mournfully on her face; she could not meet his
gaze, and her head sunk upon her bosom.

"Believe me, Miss Irving, every other pleasure is second to that
of watching over and being with you. If, in the proposed change, my
feelings alone are to be consulted, allow me to remain with you."

"Thank you, Dr. Bryant, you are very kind to remember me so
constantly; my only object was to promote your enjoyment of the day."

They rode for some distance in silence.

"This is my birthday; and how little I fancied, on the last
anniversary, that I should be so situated," said Dr. Bryant, as though
speaking unconsciously.

"How one's feelings change with maturer years. I remember well that,
in my childhood, the lapse of time seemed provokingly slow, and I
wondered why, from year to year, it seemed so very long. The last
three years of my life, though somewhat checkered, have flown too
quickly away. A month ago, I would willingly have recalled them, but
they are lost in the ocean of eternity, only to be remembered now as a
changing, feverish dream," Mary replied.

"Miss Irving, without the benign and elevating influence of Hope, that
great actuating principle from the opening to the close of life, what
a dreary blank our existence would prove. In childhood it gorgeously
gilds the future; the tints fade as maturity gains that future, and
then it gently brightens the evening of life, while memory flings her
mantle of witchery over the past, recalling, in hours of sadness,
all of joy to cheer the heart, and banishing forever the phantoms of
terror--the seasons of gloom that once haunted us."

"Yes, how appropriately has the great bard of Time, termed Hope
'silver-tongued.' And then, its soothing accents are felt and
acknowledged in the darkest hour of human trial. When about to sever
every earthly tie--when on the eve of parting with every object
rendered dear by nature and association--when the gloomy portals of
the silent tomb open to receive us, then comes Hope to paint the joys
of heaven. Our reunion with those we have loved and lost--perfect
freedom from sin--the society of angels, and the spirits of the just
made perfect; the presence of our Saviour, and an everlasting ho