Year: 1861

| We were to be married-Isabel Jer


nynghame and I. She was my cousil


on the fathers side, and bore my name


already--a thing at which she often re
|joiced. l was rich, but she was poor
and also proud. Sometimes thought
struck me that she was marrying me
only for my gold, and then I laughed
scornfully, and said to myself that ]
cared little if it was so, that must
have wife, and Isabel was handsome
and stately, and would look well at the
head of my table, and in her box at the
opera; that men would envy me, and
that my honor would be safe in her
hands; as for love--I had outlived
many illusions at the age of twenty
nine, and that was one of them.


So matters stood, when my bride
elect took a sudden fancy to pay visit
to certain relatives of hers, who were
buried somewhere among the noun
tains of New Hampshire, and of whom
she had often spoken to me. New York
should have been desert to me
when she was away, yet, l must con-
fess, the streets seemed as full, and my
bachelor friends as pleasant as ever. I
| wrote to her now and then, and she
answered me. Still, formal letters
they were, I fancy on both sides-not
much like those l had written to, and
received from Mary Parkinson some
ten years before-but then Twas older
and wiser and Isabel was dignifed
lady, and would look askance at any
lover-like rawlings.


So the days went on; and August
came. and the City grew too hot for
comfort.-Then, for the first time, it
struck me that it would only be polite
to visit my betrothed, and get aquain-
ted with my future relatives. sent a
letter to announce my coming, and
jumping into the cars, found myself on
the evening of the next day in the little
village of Lennox.


1t was pretty place. If Ihad been
ten years younger, I should have
gone into raptures over it, and taken
Isabel for ongwalk down shadyl
road that wound past the window of
my parlor in the little hotel;-as it was,
| only leaned against the open case
ment, and took long draught Of the
sweet country air, and hcaved an ab
surd sigh as the thought of Mary Par
kinson crossed my mind; and then
turned to the teatable and did Justice
to the danties, such as only a New
England housekeeper can concoct,
which were waiting for me there. That
important business over, I made care
full toilet, and after receiving directions
as to the locality of Mr.. Ashley's house,
where Isabel was staying, set off to find
her.


Out in field, as mounted the last
hill between me and Mr.. Ashley's
house. l saw an enormous hay-cart:
drawn by oxen, coming up towards the
bars. A young girl sat composedly in
it, wearing a gipsey hat and holding a
great whip in her hand, which she
fourished in the air, as she sung some
gay song about the Harvest homc.'
Two men walked behind the cart in
their shirt sleeves, with rakes upon
their shoulders, and great black New
foundland dog was whirling around in
clumsy circles, barking till the distant
hills rang with the sound. l sat down
on stone and watched them ALL They
were far enough from me, yet the air
was SO still and calm that I could see
and hear them plainly; and something,
God knows what! whether it was the
lovely scene, or something in the girls
singing, touched my heart! It was as
if had grown young again, as if a
weary weight that had been crushing
me to the very earth, was suddenly
Lifted from my shoulders, and I was
J free