ious love. Is it possible that the moon casts
that shadow?"

"The dark, dark hour is gone," said Hester, smiling as she looked up,
and the moon shone on her face. "Nothing is wrong. Who would have
believed, an hour ago, that I should now say so?"

"When you would have given me up," said Hope, smiling. "Oh, let us
forget it all! Let us go somewhere else. Who will say this is winter?
Is it October, or `the first mild day of March?' It might be either."

"There is not a breath to chill us; and these leaves--what a soft autumn
carpet they make! They have no wintry crispness yet."

There was one inexhaustible subject to which they now recurred--Mr
Hope's family. He told over again, what Hester was never weary of
hearing, how his sisters would cherish her, whenever circumstances
should allow them to meet--how Emily and she would suit best, but how
Anne would look up to her. As for Frank--. But this representation of
what Frank would say, and think, and do, was somewhat checked and
impaired by the recollection that Frank was just about this time
receiving the letter, in which Margaret's superiority to Hester was
pretty plainly set forth. The answer to that letter would arrive, some
time or other, and the anticipated awkwardness of that circumstance
caused some unpleasant feelings at this moment, as it had often done
before, during the last few weeks. Nothing could be easier than to set
the matter right with Frank, as was already done with Emily and Anne;
the first letter might occasion some difficulty. Frank was passed over
lightly, and the foreground of the picture of family welcome was
occupied by Emily and Anne.

It was almost an hour from their leaving the Spring before the lovers
reached home. They were neither cold nor tired; they were neither merry
nor sad. The traces of tears were on Hester's face; but even Margaret
was satisfied when she saw her leaning on Edward's arm, receiving the
presents of the children where alone the children would present them--in
the new house. There was no fancy about the arrangements, no ceremony
about the cake and the ring, to which Hester did not submit with perfect
grace. Notwithstanding the traces of her tears, she had never looked so
beautiful.

The same opinion was repeated the next morning by all the many who saw
her in church, or who caught a glimpse of her, in her way to and from
it. No wedding was ever kept a secret in Deerbrook; and Mr Hope's was
the one