ning a
volume of engravings.

She approached softly, when Major Howard turned, and introduced his
companion as "Mr. Lindenwood, a former acquaintance of hers, who was
visiting the mountains for the purpose of sketching views, and obtaining
geological specimens."

Florence saw at once, by her father's words and manner, that he did not
suspect Edgar's identity with the muffled figure which had been her
companion on the mountains; and, bowing politely, expressed her
"pleasure at again meeting Mr. Lindenwood."

Ellen and her brother joined them, and the evening passed in pleasant
rehearsals of the wonders and adventures of their late expedition to the
"realms of upper air."

As Major Howard led his daughter to the door of her apartment, he
remarked: "That young Lindenwood is a fine fellow. I declare, I never
thought that wild hermit's boy would grow into a refined, polished
gentleman. You hardly recognized him, did you, Florence?"

"He is very much changed in his appearance," said she, briefly.

"Certainly he is," returned her father; "one seldom meets a handsomer
fellow. He tells me there is a great deal of fine scenery through a
place called the Franconia Notch. He is going there in a few days to
complete some sketches. I think we will join him: now we are here, we
may as well see all there is to be seen;--unless you wish to go home,"
he added, finding his daughter silent in regard to the proposed
excursion.

"I wish to go home?" exclaimed she, suddenly; "if you remain here till
that time comes, your head will be white as the snows of these northern
winters."

Laughing at her enthusiasm for mountains, he kissed her cheek and
retired.

CHAPTER XXXVI.

"Most wondrous vision! The broad earth hath not,
Through all her bounds, an object like to thee,
That travellers e'er recorded. Nor a spot
More fit to stir the poet's phantasy;
Grey Old Man of the Mountain, awfully
There, from thy wreath of clouds thou dost uprear
Those features grand,--the same eternally!
Lone dweller 'mid the hills! with gaze austere
Thou lookest down, methinks, on all below thee here."

At the Flume House, three weeks later, we find our little party of
travellers, all in apparently fine spirits and delighted enjoyment of
the wild, enchanting scenery of the Franconia Notch.

"Well, Lindenwood, what do you intend to show us