from my looks even before I
uttered a syllable. What was to hinder the incumbent from reading
the tale on my forehead the moment that I again stood in his presence?

Reaching the parsonage, I proceeded at once to the drawing-room,
where I expected to see the minister. No one was in the room, but a
chair was drawn to the table, and the implements of drawing were
before it. Could I not guess who had been the recent tenant of that
happy chair--who had been busy there? Forgetful of every thing but
her, I stood for a time in silent adoration of the absent one; then
I ventured to approach and gaze upon her handiwork. I shook with joy,
with ravishment, and ecstasy, when I beheld it. What was not made
known to me in that one hasty look! What golden dreams did not engage,
what blissful triumph did not elevate, what passionate delight did
not overflow my aching heart! Oh, it was true--and the blessed
intelligence came to me with a power and a reality that no language
could contain--SHE LOVED ME! she, the beloved, the good, the innocent,
and pure! Before me was the scene--the dearest to me in
life--through which we had so recently walked together, and upon
which she knew I doated, for the sake of her whose presence had
given it light and hallowed it. Why had she brought it on the paper?
Why this particular scene, and that fair hillock, but for the sake
of him who worshipped them--but that the mysterious and communicable
fire had touched her soul, and melted it? I trembled with my
happiness. There was a spot upon the paper--a tear--one sacred drop
from the immaculate fount. Why had it been shed? In joy or pain--for
whom--and wherefore? The paper was still moist--the tear still warm.
Happiest and most unfortunate of my race, I pressed it to my lips,
and kissed it passionately.

Miss Fairman entered at that moment.

She looked pale and ill. This was not a season for consideration.
Before I could speak, I saw her tottering, and about to fall. I
rushed to her and held her in my arms. She strove for recovery, and
set herself at liberty; but she wept aloud as she did so, and
covered her face with her hands. I fell upon my knees, and implored
her to forgive me.

"I have been rash and cruel, Miss Fairman, but extend to me your
pardon, and I will go for ever, and disturb your peace no more. Do
not despise me, or believe that I have deliberately interfered with
your happiness, and destroyed my own for ever. Do not hate me when I
shall