one, and done
promptly; but, at least, there should be no unnecessary witnesses to its
harrowing achievement.

So he looked upon the radiant brow of his Henrietta, wreathed with
smiles of innocent triumph, sparkling with unalloyed felicity, and
beaming with unbroken devotion. Should the shade of a dark passion for
a moment cloud that heaven, so bright and so serene? Should even a
momentary pang of jealousy or distrust pain that pure and unsullied
breast? In the midst of contending emotions, he pressed her to his heart
with renewed energy, and, bending down his head, imprinted an embrace
upon her blushing forehead.

They seated themselves on a bank, which, it would seem, Nature had
created for the convenience of lovers. The softest moss, and the
brightest flowers decked its elastic and fragrant side. A spreading
beech tree shaded their heads from the sun, which now was on the
decline; and occasionally its wide branches rustled with the soft breeze
that passed over them in renovating and gentle gusts. The woods widened
before them, and at the termination of a well-contrived avenue, they
caught the roofs of the village and the tall grey tower of Ducie Church.
They had wandered for hours without weariness, yet the repose was
grateful, while they listened to the birds, and plucked wildflowers.

'Ah! I remember,' said Ferdinand, 'that it was not far from here, while
slumbering indeed in the porch of my pretty farm-house, that the fairy
of the spot dropped on my breast these beautiful flowers that I now
wear. Did you not observe them, my sweet Henrietta? Do you know that
I am rather mortified, that they have not made you at least a little
jealous?'

'I am not jealous of fairies, dear Ferdinand.'

'And yet I half believe that you are a fairy, my Henrietta.'

'A very substantial one, I fear, my Ferdinand. Is this a compliment to
my form?'

'Well, then, a sylvan nymph, much more, I assure you, to my fancy;
perhaps the rosy Dryad of this fair tree; rambling in woods, and
bounding over commons, scattering beautiful flowers, and dreams as
bright.'

'And were your dreams bright yesterday morning?'

'I dreamed of you.'

'And when you awoke?'

'I hastened to the source of my inspiration.'

'And if you had not dreamt of me?'

'I should have come to have enquired the reason why.'

Miss Temple looked upon the ground; a blended expression of mirth and
sentiment played over her features, and then looking up with a smile