then hurrying on, soon reached the graveyard, where, as
Ella had said, there stood by her parents' graves a large handsome
monument.

William Bender was the first person who came into her mind, and as she
thought of all that had passed between them, and of this last proof of
his affection, she seated herself among the tall grass and flowers,
which grew upon her mother's grave, and burst into tears. She had not
sat there long, ere she was roused by the sound of a footstep. Looking
up, she saw before her the young gentleman, who the year previous had
visited her school in Rice Corner. Seating himself respectfully by her
side, he spoke of the three graves, and asked if they were her friends
who slept there. There was something so kind and affectionate in his
voice and manner, that Mary could not repress her tears, and snatching
up her bonnet which she had thrown aside she hid her face in it and
again wept.

For a time, Mr. Stuart suffered her to weep, and then gently removed
the gingham bonnet, and holding her hand between his, he tried to
divert her mind by talking upon other topics, asking her how she had
been employed during the year, and appearing greatly pleased, when
told that she had been at Mount Holyoke. Observing, at length, that
her eyes constantly rested upon the monument, he spoke of that,
praising its beauty, and asking if it were her taste.

"No," said she, "I never saw it until to-day, and did not even know it
was here."

"Some one wished to surprise you, I dare say," returned Mr. Stuart.
"It was manufactured in Boston, I see. Have you friends there?"

Mary replied that she had one, a Mr. Bender, to which Mr. Stuart
quickly rejoined, "Is it William Bender? I have heard of him through
our mutual friend George Moreland, whom you perhaps have seen."

Mary felt the earnest gaze of the large, dark eyes which were fixed
upon her face, and coloring deeply, she replied that they came from
England in the same vessel.

"Indeed!" said Mr. Stuart. "When I return to the city shall I refresh
his memory a little with regard to you?"

"I'd rather you would not," answered Mary. "Our paths in life are very
different; and he of course would feel no interest in me."

"Am I to conclude that you, too, feel no interest in him?" returned
Mr. Stuart, and again his large eyes rested on Mary's face, with a
curious expression.

But she made no reply, and soon rising up, said it was time for her to
go home.

"Allow me to