d that
there was in store for her a far more costly dwelling, than the
"Homestead on the Hillside."

Currently was it reported that during Walter Hamilton's vacations the
winding footpath, which followed the course of the streamlet down to
the mill-pond, was trodden more frequently than usual. The
postmaster's wife, too, had hinted strongly of certain ominous letters
from New Haven, which regularly came, directed to Kate, when Walter
was not at home; so, putting together these two facts, and adding to
them the high estimation in which Mrs. Kirby and her daughter were
known to be held by the Hamiltons, it was generally conceded that
there could be no shadow of doubt concerning the state of affairs
between the heir apparent of the old homestead and the daughter of the
poor miller.

Kate was a universal favorite, and by nearly all was it thought that
in everything save money she was fully the equal of Walter Hamilton.
To a face and form of the most perfect beauty she added a degree of
intelligence and sparkling wit, which, in all the rides, parties, and
_fetes_ given by the young people of Glenwood, caused her society to
be chosen in preference to those whose fathers counted their money by
thousands.

A few there were who said that Kate's long intimacy with Margaret
Hamilton had made her proud; but in the rude dwellings and crazy
tenements which skirted the borders of Glenwood village was many a
blind old woman, and many a hoary-headed man, who in their daily
prayers remembered the beautiful Kate, the "fair forest flower," who
came so oft among them with her sweet young face and gentle words. For
Kate both Margaret and Carrie Hamilton already felt a sisterly
affection, while their father smiled graciously upon her, secretly
hoping, however, that his son would make a more brilliant match, but
resolving not to interfere if at last his choice should fall upon her.

One afternoon, early in April, as Margaret sat in her chamber, busy
upon a piece of needlework, the door softly opened, and a mass of
bright chestnut curls became visible; next appeared the laughing blue
eyes; and finally the whole of Kate Kirby bounded into the room
saying, "Good afternoon, Maggie; are you very busy, and wish I hadn't
come?"

"I am never too busy to see you," answered Margaret, at the same time
pushing toward Kate the little ottoman on which she always sat when in
that room.

Kate took the proffered seat, and throwing aside her bonnet, be