ity you must resolutely turn away; and then you may
say, as I did, that your mortal eyes have never rested on any thing so
lovely as the ruins of Calder Abbey.

Sometimes Miss Martineau would tell us some pretty legend, or some good
story.

This was one of the legends: Near the borders of the Ullswater is the
beautiful Ara Force, one of the most lovely falls I have seen in
England. One may stand below, and look up at the rushing stream, or
above, on the top of the fall. Here, long ago, in the time of the
crusades, stood a pair of lovers; and here grows an old oak which was
their trysting tree. The lady was of noble birth, and lived in a castle
near by; and her true knight used to come at the still hour of evening
to meet her at the Ara Force.

At length the lover was called away to the Holy Land. As he left his
lady, he vowed to be her true knight, and to return and wed her. Many
long days passed away, and the lady waited in vain for her true knight.
Though she heard often from others of his chivalrous deeds in the East,
yet no word came from him to tell her he was faithful; and she began to
fear that he was no longer true to her, but was serving some other
lady. Despair at last came upon her; and she grew wan and pale, and
slept no longer soundly: But, when the world was at rest, she would
rise in her sleep, and wander to the trysting tree, and pluck off the
green oak leaves, and throw them into the foaming water.

The knight was all this time faithful, but was not able to send word to
his lady love. At last, he returned to England, and hastened towards
the castle where she lived.

It was late at night when he came to the Ara Force; and he sat him down
under the trysting tree to wait for the morning. When he had been there
a long time, he saw a figure approach, all in white, and pluck off the
oak leaves, and fling them into the stream. Angry to see the sacred
tree thus injured, he rose to prevent it. The figure started and awoke.
In a moment he knew his beloved lady. She was now on the frail bridge.
The sudden shock, and the roar of the Force below, had made her giddy.
He leaped forward to embrace and save her. Alas! too late. Her foot
slipped, and she fell. It was all over. The water tumbling far down
into the rocky chasm beneath told the story of death.

The knight was inconsolable. He retired from the world forever, and
built a monastery near by, on the borders of the lake, where he died.

The frail bridge i