luggage were come, but he himself was
missing. Mrs. Frost was very uneasy, but his father silenced
conjectures by saying, that it was his usual way, and he would make his
appearance before the evening. He would not send to meet another
train, saying, that the penalty of irregularity must be borne, and the
horses should not suffer for such freaks; and he would fain have been
utterly indifferent, but he was evidently listening to every sound, and
betrayed his anxiety by the decision with which he checked all
expression of his aunt's fears.

There was no arrival all that evening, no explanation in the morning;
and Betty Gervas, whom Mary went to visit in the course of the day,
began to wonder whether the young Lord could be gone for a soldier--the
usual fate of all missing village lads.

Mary was on her way home, through the park, along a path skirting the
top of a wooded ravine, a dashing rivulet making a pleasant murmur
among the rocks below, and glancing here and there through the
brushwood that clothed the precipitous banks, when, with a sudden
rustling and crackling, a man leaped upon the path with a stone in each
hand.

Mary started, but she did not lose her presence of mind, and her next
glance showed her that the apparition was not alarming, and was nearly
as much amazed as herself. It was a tall slight young man, in a suit
of shepherd's plaid, with a fair face and graceful agile form,
recalling the word debonnaire as she had yesterday heard it applied. In
instant conviction that this was the truant, she put out her hand by
the same impulse that lighted his features with a smile of welcome, and
the years of separation seemed annihilated as he exclaimed, 'My cousin
Mary!' and grasped her hand, adding, 'I hope I did not frighten you--'

'Oh no; but where did you come from?'

'Up a hill perpendicular, like Hotspur,' he replied, in soft low quiet
tones, which were a strange contrast to the words. 'No, see here,' and
parting the bushes he showed some rude steps, half nature, half art,
leading between the ferns and mountain-ash, and looking very inviting.

'How delightful!' cried Mary.

'I am glad you appreciate it,' he exclaimed; 'I will finish it off now,
and put a rail. I did not care to go on when I had lost the poor
fellow who helped me, but it saves a world of distance.'

'It must be very pretty amongst those beautiful ferns!'

'You can't conceive anything more charming,' he continued, with the
same