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girl, if she felt it irksome a little, saw nothing startling in the contrast. She went outside to the cows; she caressed the calf she was training; she talked about the common matters of the house to Marget, who came to help in some of the operations of the dairy. Even to Marget she did not venture to speak of the wonderful vision of last night. In her own heart the remembrance throbbed with a force which kept her pulse beating as if in a fever. So wonderfully did she feel the flood of the life-torrent in her veins, that, in the height of her health and unconscious vigor, Bell paused to lay her finger on her pulse and listen to the loud palpitation of her heart, with a wistful passing wonder whether she was going to be ill and die. That would be an unthought-of solution of the mystery; and why, indeed, was that Appearance sent, if not with some such end? She paused at the door as she came to and fro, and gazed at that spot where, last night

was some one who knew the way, lingering at every familiar turn, casting wistful looks at every well-known bush and tree. Did that gait and step, which Bell, who could not breathe, watched in such an agony of recognition, belong to any living man? the noiseless footsteps falling without sound or echo into the palpitating stillness! She stretched out her arms wildly, in an agony of joy and terror. If it was he what did it matter to Bell whether it was spirit or man ? But her parched lips could not form the agonized inquiry that rose to them. At that overpowering moment, when, had she but been strong enough, another breath would have brought her to speech of Willie, living or dead, Bell fell down upon the bare floor of her solitary room. She fell there with a sob that caught no ear in the silent house, and lay all insensible and out of reach, whatever happened, unwitting whether precious support of love had come to her in her extremity, or whether a wandering apparition had mocked her with a glimpse of the unseen. Dread helplessness of flesh and blood! She could not bear that unspeakable strain of emotion. Just upon that moment at which the sight might have become ineffable, the mortal creature's vision failed her. She fell, and lay blank, in utter unconsciousness, then wrestling with the dreadful fancies which herald returning life; when she came to herself, deep darkness and stillness was over the external world-upon the path. Not the Appearance, whatnothing moved, nothing appeared in the dewy, gloomy landscape-the very wind had sighed itself to sleep in the hush of the pastoral Sabbath. Bell gazed out of her window with strained eye, unable to rouse herself from the trance of watching, for half the night. But she saw nothing heard nothing;-only at length, when the vigil was over, the quiver of rising light in the east, the distant cockcrowing over the far country:-the night, wrapping all mysteries in its bosom of darkness, was over. The loud day, all busy and unthoughtful, had begun.

CHAPTER IV.

last night!-crown of life over which life paused, as if it could go no further. What was it that stood there in the silence? And Bell, who dared not ask, much less answer the question, turned away to her dairy-work, with a sigh that came echoing deep out of the depths of her heart.

Matters were going on thus-the work progressing, the heart throbbing, the solemn day swelling into noon-when Bell, looking out from the house door, saw another sight

ever it was-only two figures, entirely familiar and unmysterious-Jamie Lowther, in his Sabbath dress, as if coming on weighty occasion, and her father, walking slowly, with his head bent, and a certain air of dogged firmness in his aspect, by the young man's side. The sight of them advancing together at this unusual hour-the farmer from his fields, the lover at a time when no Annandale man dreams of making lovebrought back all the early visions of the previous night to Bell; she stood still; and recollected herself with a painful necessary effort.

She put away from her mind all the THAT day was to be an era in the life of mystic thrills with which that midnight apIsabel Carr. Sleepless and excited, yet parition had filled her. Now the crisis she constrained to conceal her excitement in the had foreseen was coming. She went solcalm ordinary garb of life, she went down emnly into the house, promising to her heart, to the common labor which seems which could not detach itself from thoes abstrangely unconcordant with the high cli- sorbing thoughts, that by and by they two maxes of suffering and passion. The country should return together to that precious

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The old man raised up his head, which had been bent in despondent quietness, and gazed with wonder and half-comprehension on the excited speaker. At the first hearing he did not understand. No voice like this had addressed Andrew Carr in his own house for years.

region of dreams; but in the mean time counts with me, Andrew Carr, or ye maun something had to be done. She stood at look to be rouped out of Whinnyrig. I the door of the great kitchen, holding maun either have money or money's worth; it open-though it was always open, and dilly-dallying like this is no for me." the motion was one of excitement and not one of necessity-to let her father and his companion pass in. Then she took up her post at the window, standing there, with her face paled by thought and restrained feeling, and her wistful eyes seeking that landscape out of doors which had formed the background to the wonderful picture last "Bell!" said the father, with a strange night. In her abstracted eye and pre-occu- wonder. It was an appeal to her-not to pied look, the least close observer might interpose to save him, but to interpret have read that something had happened to whether this insolent address was real. He Bell-something that delivered her out of had quite well known and agreed in the the extreme personal interest she had in this tacit compact that his daughter's hand was business about to be transacted. Her black to purchase his own deliverance from the dress was laid away along with her Sabbath-power of his creditor: but such a statement day leisure. She stood in her striped petti- of the original case startled and stung his coat and pink short gown, with her apron proud spirit. It was nothing about Bell tied around her firm, round waist, in all her it was a demand for the bond, the pound rural beauty, vigor, and health, but with of flesh-an attempt to humiliate and force a mystic visionary shadow on her which the reluctant daughter into payment of neither of the spectators could comprehend. her father's debt. A certain heat came They looked at her, both in the momen- slowly upon his aged face. Lowther, totary pause. There she stood who could tally unaware of the spirit he was rousing avert ruin and misery-who could, at no-bent solely upon his own plan- detergreater cost than that of heart and life, sat-mined to bring Bell to her knees and humble isfy the young man's fierce love and console her before he accepted her-proceeded to the old man's wounded pride. Young, and carry out his design in his own way. a woman, could she resist doing it? Life and Heart are so little against wild Love and Pride; and but for the two other invisible champions of Truth and Honesty on either side of her-not to speak of that spiritual visitant last night-Bell's heart might indeed have faltered and given way.

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"You're weel aware what I mean," he said. "If Bell disna ken, it's no my blame. Ye became caution for Thomas Brown at the bank, and I paid the siller when he ran away. Ye were behindhand with the rent, and I made it up. Ye sell't your beasts badly because you would take nae advice, and I helpit to stock the byer again. If it's no a' true, ye can contradict me. But I'm to get naething back in return-no a ceevil wordno a kind look out of a lass' e'e. If I'm no to have what I wanted, I'll take what I can; and, Andrew Carr, I'm saying ye'll settle your affairs with me."

Noo, Jamie Lowther, say out your say," said the old farmer of Whinnyrig; "you've brought me here in the mid-hour of day to settle your affairs with Bell. I might have been better pleased, and so might the lass, if ye hadna askit my help. But we're a' here, and time runs on; say out what you have to say." Bell's abstraction had yielded to the pain"It is awfu' easy speaking," said Low-ful interest of this colloquy. With the color ther, with a little sullenness; "you say ' to warming on her cheek, and the wildest tusettle my affairs with Bell.' I never yet mult in her heart, she turned from the askit an auld man's help to court a bonnie speaker to the listener. She saw the gleams lass. It's my affairs with you I want to of passion in James Lowther's eyes-passion settle. You ken ye're in my power; I've-love which was almost hatred-and tremwaited lang, and got little ceevility frae bled with a momentary womanish terror at ony here. A man's patience doesna last the power he wielded. Then she turned her forever. You maun either settle auld ac-gaze upon her father. The old man had

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risen up from his chair: his face was red had sapped the ancient strength, and Passion with a flush of unusual rage and energy; his had completed the tuin. He fell, putting gray eyes burned under their shaggy eye- forth the feeble a once so mighty, to lashes. If he did not speak, it was rather thrust his cruel creditor out of his sight. because he had too much than too little to His daughter could not tell what was hapsay. There was a momentary silence, Low-pening in that moment of terror. While ther having discharged his arrow. Then, she raised his head and unloosed his handwith a quick, faltering step, Andrew Carr kerchief from his neck, Bell was only aware strode forward to his antagonist. He was of an ineffable consolation that stole through trembling with rage and excitement-words her heart, and strengthened, even in their would not come from his lips. tremor, her hands and her soul. She heard a voice she had not heard for years. She felt a presence in the apartment, somehow pervading it, though she did not see him. What did it matter-spirit or man? She was rapt into regions above common reason. Life and Death-Love and Sorrow, standing close about her, transported the young woman out of ordinary fear and wonder. She could have believed those were spiritual hands that helped her with her burden: she was content to believe it. She asked no questions-felt no surprise. In the moment of her extremity he was there who had vowed to stand by her in all the chances of her life. He was standing by her and her heart was strong.

Go-go forth of my door!" stammered the furious old man. "Gang forth, sir, out of my house! Bell!-Whinnyrig is yours and mine at this moment. Turn him out of my door. Siller!-he shall have his siller, if I beg from house to house. Affairs! Gang forth, I say to you, out of my door!" He had clutched at Lowther's sleeve, and with the vehemence of age, dragged him out of his chair. It was no contemptible hand, though it was old. The younger man, startled and furious, vainly tried to shake off that passionate grasp. They struggled together for a moment-Bell, struck dumb by the encounter, not attempting to interfere. But the fiery energy of the insulted patriarch was no match for the steady resistance of his antagonist. Lowther planted his feet firm on the ground, extricated himself and stood defiant. The two who had come in together amicable and allied, confronted each other with mutual passion. Bell said nothing -scarcely breathed; the matter was taken out of her hands.

"It's a' true I've said," said the creditor, sullenly," and I'll no be turned out of the house where everything belongs to mysel'. There's anither way to settle, if ye like; but I warn ye, Andrew Carr—”

"Gang out of my house!" shouted the indignant old man. "Will I sell him my ain flesh and blood, does the devil think? Ye shall have your siller. Gang out of my house, ye sneering Satan! Bell, call the lads: am I to be insulted on my ain hearthstane? Bell, I'm saying! Ay, Willie, Willie, ye've come in time! Turn him out o' my doors!"

CHAPTER V.

THE doctor had come and gone. The old man was speechless, but calm, half-slumbering, half-unconscious in his bed. Whether he would die or live no one could tell: most likely he was to die; for age is weak to contend with sudden disease and rapid passion. He lay in unlooked-for ruin, like an ancient tower, and the aspect of the homely farmhouse was suddenly changed from that of every-day labor to that absorbed pre-occupation which subordinates everything to the present sickness and coming death.

Bell had come into the kitchen, to prepare some necessary comfort, from the inner room where her father lay. She started with a violent tremor to see James Lowther still standing in the scene of that encounter and downfall. It was strange to see him there with that same atmosphere of fury, love, and passion about him, after all that had happened. Bell did not feel she was treadSome one else was in the darkened apart- ing on common ground-the dead had come ment. Bell could not see who, or how he alive, and the living had been stricken that came. She only perceived the large old day. It was a solemn day, far separated frame totter, the darkening fall like a great from yesterday and all the past. And what tower, of the heavy figure. That paroxysm did her disappointed lover here, looking had been too much for the old man. Age just as he had looked in the common life ?

"So!" he said, with a long breath, as she involuntarily paused before him, "you've gotten back your joe!

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"What did you say?" asked Bell; her mind too much lifted out of ordinary talk or thoughts to understand what he meant.

were aware, with so much injury on one side, and so much guilt and jealousy on the other. But, as they stood eying each other, the inner door opened again, and a sight appeared that made them drop asunder, gazing with speechless wonder and fear. It was "You've gotten back your joe," said Low- Andrew Carr leaning on his daughter's arm ther, fiercely, "he's come hame like ither-tottering, yet upright, with bloodless face, dyvours; and you think you can scorn me and large bright eyes flickering in their safely noo. But I tell you it's a' Willie can sockets. With one arm he held Bell—the do to look after himsel'-and as for you and other hung useless, with its large hand palthe auld man, if ye gang on your knees to lid as death through all the browning of toil. me I'll no alter noo. I'll take the bed from Those eyes, which gazed but saw nothing— under him afore I'll let ye triumph over me. those shuffling, helpless feet-that large, old, The auld man's bankrupt, as I warned ye tottering, broken figure impressed the young yestreen. Ye can leave him on the parish man like the very presence of Death. He and gang off with your joe, for ye'll get nei- went forward blindly, half supported by ther charity nor help frae me." Bell-half dragging her on. "Lads, it's "Jamie!” cried a voice of warning from the Sabbath night, and time to gang a' to the door.

And Bell lifted her eyes. There he stood -the Appearance of last night-no apparition or spirit-glowing with indignation, love, and succor. She gave a cry such as never had escaped her in all her anguish, and covered her face with her hands. She did not even say his name. She did not care to ask a question. The cloud floated away from her heart with all its mystic consolations. Willie was there! That was consolation enough. She did not pause longer, but went away to her sick-room and her filial service. No dallying-no indulgence, however lawful, was becoming at that moment. She went with a light foot, restored to reality, serene and hopeful. Willie was there! explanations might come afterwards; light had come back to her eyes and confidence to her heart.

"She gangs to her duty without a question," said the stranger, with loving admiration. "Jamie, there's nae place for you in this house of trouble. I'm here! Ye've slandered me, but that I'll forgive ye. deceived me about her, and that I forgie myself that should have kenned better; but if there's a heart of flesh in ye, gang out of this house!"

your beds. Fare ye weel-fare ye weel!
Gang on before for it's mirk-night I'll but
gie ae look to the stars, and then to my rest,"
said the voice of the dying man. Nobody
could disobey those words.
The young
men stole out before him, not venturing to
look at each other. He went blindly to the
door, feebler and feebler, and sank on the
stone bench outside, dragging his terrified
daughter with him. Then he lifted his
sightless eyes to the sky, which shone in the
full glory of day. "Dark-dark-but the
moon's near her rising; and your mither's
lang o' coming, Bell," said Andrew Carr.
His great gray head drooped down upon his
breast; and while the young hearts palpi-
tated and the young breath went and came,
and those three figures round him had
scarcely counted out other three seconds of
their full existence, the life was ended and the
spirit gone!

Quiet fell after that upon the house of Whinnyrig. The death-dwelling was saved. But when it came to be known how the old Ye've man met his death, James Lowther, of canna Broomlees, found few smiles and fewer friends in the indignant countryside. The picturesque figure of the old farmer, severe and morose while he lived, detached itself in a kind of tragic splendor from the surrounding landscape when he was gone-and in the mournful regard which reverted to The sailor said no more. He seized his him at last, people bethought themselves cousin by the arm, compressing it unawares remorsefully of the young sailor condemned in his passionate grasp. The two might unheard. When Willie Lowther's story was have struggled into bloodshed before they told, his cousin's place in popular estimation

"No till the house is roupit, and the haill stock o' ye ruined!" cried Lowther with a furious oath.

"It was me and Death," said the sailor. "He would never have yielded to own me till death was upon him. We came together to your father's door."

sank still further. It was Broomlees and Appearance out of heaven ?" said Bell. "I not Whinnyrig finally that was "roupit," feared no man more-I kent it was the Lord not for poverty, but for disgust and warfare himself that sent deliverance. But, Willie, with all the world. Bell's disappointed it wasna you?" lover, who had lied and schemed and almost murdered for her sake, went sullenly off to Australia, a broken man. Her sailor's story was heard with tears, and volunteered excuses for his long silence and despair. He had missed Bell's letter, till, returning to the Naval Hospital, where he had lain ill for months, he found it yellow and worn waiting him, contradicting his cousin's evil report and calling him home.

"And was it you that came out of the moonlight that Sabbath night, or was it an

"God forgive me!-if it was death to him it was life to me-twa angels!" said Bell, with tears. The tears fell in a gush of mournful tenderness on the old man's grave: but brightened with involuntary rainbow gleams in the eyes of the recovered sailor's bride.

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The Romance of a Dull Life. By the Author of| Morning Clouds." London: Longman. THIS story has a good deal of cleverness in it; and a knowledge of human nature very much above the average. Constance Felton, a young lady, lives with her parents in a secluded old manor-house, where they are obliged to practise a host of those petty economies which break the spirits, and dash the self-confidence of young people more, perhaps, than any other trial in the world. Seldom to go out, and then in a shabby dress; never to see money spent freely as a thing of no consequence; always to feel the pressure of narrow means, showing themselves in bad fires, cold dinners, and low spirits, constitute a terrible ordeal for either girl or boy to go through. But it is far worse for the girl, to whom the elegancies of life are so much more than to a boy. Well this is the situation of Constance Felton, and the whole volume is occupied with exhibiting it from different points of view. Her own feelings on various occasions, more especially when invited to stay among fashionable people in a gay house, are most admirably described. So also is one of her friends, a Mrs. Podmore, whose egotistical selfishness is painted to the life. "I do so admire a rose!' she would say, in tones which seemed to imply that she had a monopoly of pleasure in it, and that it had fulfilled its destiny in pleasing her." This is capital. At the same time it must be confessed that the book is a most depressing one to read. There is not a gleam of sunshine through it from beginning to end. Constance's only love affair ends badly, and she settles down into an old maid, finding content ment apparently, if not cheerfulness, in becoming her father's housekeeper.-Spectator.

THE prices occasionally paid for advertise ments may suggest some curious reflections Her Majesty's Commissioners for the Exhibition of 1862 received last week offers for the wrappers of the two shilling Catalogues, the printing of which we have already announced as having been arranged for; and we understand that Mr. Bennett, the watchmaker, has been a successful bidder for the back page of each of these Catalogue wrappers, having paid for the two the sum of one thousand guineas. The Accidental Death Assurance Company have also obtained the last page but one, at the price of £600; and Messrs. Chappell & Co., of Bond Street, get a page at back of title in each Catalogue, having also paid £600.

THE private munificence which has furnished Liverpool with a Natural History Museum, a Free Library, a noble edifice to contain the latter, and a Gallery of Inventions, has crowned the good work by the founding of a School of Science. This last was inaugurated on Thursday, with much appropriate ceremony. Mr. Gladstone, at the public meeting which took place in the afternoon, aptly showed to the diffident, that the triumphs of science were effected by the application of experience gained in the contemplation of natural objects. The shell of the lobster suggested the strong tube to Watt; the earthworm, the Tunnel, to Brunel; the bird's wing produced the oar; the gyrations of a hawk, the wheel; while the plow was founded on intelligent observation of certain practices of the pig!

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