r Stephen, I have heard all, and I know
how bitterly hard it is to bear.'

Stephen answered her only with a low, half-suppressed groan; and then he
sat speechless and motionless, as if his despair had completely paralyzed
him.

'Listen, Stephen,' she continued, with energy: 'you told me once that the
clergyman at Danesford has some paper belonging to you, about the
cottage. You must go to him, and tell him frankly your whole story. I do
not believe that what my uncle has done would stand in law, and I myself,
if it be necessary, would testify that your grandfather could not
understand such a transaction. But perhaps it could be settled without
going to law, if the clergyman at Danesford would take it in hand; for my
uncle is very wishful to keep a good name in the country. But if not,
Stephen Fern, I promise you faithfully that should Fern's Hollow ever
come into my possession, and I be my uncle's only relative, I will
restore it to you as your rightful inheritance.'

She spoke so gravely, yet cheeringly, that a bright hope beamed into
Stephen's mind; and when Miss Anne held out her hand to him, as a pledge
of her promise, she felt a warm tear fall upon it. He rose up from the
ground now, and stood out into the moonlight before her, looking up into
her pale face.

'Stephen,' she said, more solemnly than before, 'do you find it possible
to endure this injury and temptation?'

'I've been praying for the master,' answered Stephen; but there was a
tone of bitterness in his voice, and his face grew gloomy again.

'He is a very miserable man,' said Miss Anne, sighing; 'I often hear him
walking up and down his room, and crying aloud in the night-time for God
to have mercy upon him; but he is a slave to the love of riches. Years
ago he might have broken through his chain, but he hugged it closely, and
now it presses upon him very hardly. All his love has been given to
money, till he cannot feel any love to God; and he knows that in a few
years he must leave all he loves for ever, and go into eternity without
it. He will have no rest to-night because of the injury he has done you.
He is a very wretched man, Stephen.'

'I wouldn't change with him for all his money,' said Stephen pityingly.

'Stephen,' continued Miss Anne, 'you say you pray for my uncle, and I
believe you do; but do you never feel a kind of spite and hatred against
him in your very prayers? Have you never seemed to enjoy telling our
Father how very evil h