wing embers, he betook himself to his
lowly couch, but his head had hardly touched the pillow when a quick
step crackling along the icy path struck his ear. Ere he could reach the
door it was pushed open, and a voice called out hastily, "Uncle Ralph!"

"Edgar, my boy!" exclaimed the hermit, groping in the darkness to clasp
him in his arms. "Are you returned at last?"

"Yes, dear uncle," answered the young man; "I reached the village by the
evening stage, and hurried with all speed to my old forest home."

The hermit lighted a candle and raked open the coals. A bright fire soon
burned on the hearth, and by its ruddy blaze the fond uncle marked the
changes two years had wrought in the appearance of his nephew. He was
taller, and a manly confidence of tone and manner had succeeded the
reserve and timidity which characterized his boyhood. The luxuriant
masses of soft brown hair were brushed away from the clear, pale brow,
and the deep blue eyes glowed in the conscious light of genius and
intellectual fervor. The hermit gazed with ardent admiration on the
commanding elegance and beauty of the form before him.

"Education and travel have made a wonderful improvement in your
appearance, my boy," he remarked at length, his voice trembling with
emotion as he spoke. "Still I don't know but I liked you better as the
curly-headed boy in morocco cap and little blue frock-coat, that used to
come bounding over the forest path, with his satchel in hand; or set
here of long winter evenings, reading some treasured volume at my side;
or perched within the window nook gazing silently upward at the
glistening stars;--for the dreamy boy I could keep near me, but the
lofty, ambitious man I cannot hope to prison here in a solitary
wilderness,--nor should I indulge in a wish so selfish," he added. "Tell
me, Edgar, of your travels, your enjoyments and occupations, since you
departed from this lowly roof."

The young man gave a brief rehearsal of the principal events of the past
two years. He hesitated somewhat when he came to his meeting and renewal
of acquaintance with Florence Howard, recollecting his uncle's former
aversion to their intercourse. He might have passed over it in silence,
but his delicate sense of honor would not allow him to deceive in the
smallest point the heart that loved him so devotedly. The listening man
bent earnest, scrutinizing glances on the speaker's face as he proceeded
with his tale, and when it was finished, b