for a pontifical
robe, acting the Archbishop of Canterbury, and placing the crown upon my
head!"

"And the game of Barley-break in the evening," said the Colonel, fairly
carried away by the recollections of these old scenes, "when you and I,
hand in hand, pretended only to catch the rest, and preferred to remain
together thus, in what we called the hell, because we felt that it was a
heaven to us."[4]

"Oh, fie, for shame!" said the old lady. "Ah, well, they don't have such
times now-a-days."

"No, indeed," said her husband; "old Noll came with his nasal twang and
puritanical cant, and dethroned May-queens as well as royal kings, and
his amusements were only varied by a change from a hypocritical sermon
to a psalm-singing conventicle."

Thus the old folks chatted on merrily, telling old stories, which,
although Virginia had heard them a hundred times and knew them all by
heart, she loved to hear again. She had almost forgotten her own sadness
in this occupation of her mind, when her father said--

"But, Bessy, we had almost forgotten, in our recollections of the past,
that our little Jeanie needs cheering up. You should remember, my
daughter, that if there were any serious cause for Mr. Hansford's
absence, he would have written to you. Some trivial circumstance, or
some matter of business, has detained him from day to day. He will be
here to-morrow, I have no doubt."

"I know I ought not to feel anxious," said Virginia, her lip quivering
with emotion; "he has so much to do, not only in his profession, but his
poor old mother needs his presence a great deal now; she was far from
well when he was last here."

"Well, I respect him for that," said her mother. "It is too often the
case with these young lovers, that when they think of getting married,
and doing for themselves, the poor old mothers are laid on the shelf."

"And yet," continued Virginia, "I have a kind of presentiment that all
may not be right with him. I know it is foolish, but I can't--I can't
help it?"

"These presentiments, my child," said her father, who was not without
some of the superstition of the time, "although like dreams, often sent
by the Almighty for wise purposes, are more often but the phantasies of
the imagination. The mind, when unable to account for circumstances by
reason, is apt to torment itself with its own fancy--and this is wrong,
Jeanie."

"I know all this," replied Virginia, "and yet have no power to prevent
it. But," s