ough her experience of
the world was not actually so large as her conclusive manner would have
led the stranger to suppose. Being an orphan, she resided with her
uncle, who, though he was fairly considerate as to her welfare, left her
pretty much to herself.

Now it chanced that when this lovely young lady was about nineteen, she
(being a fearless horsewoman) was riding, with only a young lad as an
attendant, in one o' the woods near her uncle's house, and, in trotting
along, her horse stumbled over the root of a felled tree. She slipped to
the ground, not seriously hurt, and was assisted home by a gentleman who
came in view at the moment of her mishap. It turned out that this
gentleman, a total stranger to her, was on a visit at the house of a
neighbouring landowner. He was of Dutch extraction, and occasionally
came to England on business or pleasure from his plantations in Guiana,
on the north coast of South America, where he usually resided.

On this account he was naturally but little known in Wessex, and was but
a slight acquaintance of the gentleman at whose mansion he was a guest.
However, the friendship between him and the Heymeres--as the uncle and
niece were named--warmed and warmed by degrees, there being but few folk
o' note in the vicinity at that time, which made a newcomer, if he were
at all sociable and of good credit, always sure of a welcome. A tender
feeling (as it is called by the romantic) sprang up between the two young
people, which ripened into intimacy. Anderling, the foreign gentleman,
was of an amorous temperament; and, though he endeavoured to conceal his
feeling, it could be seen that Miss Maria Heymere had impressed him
rather more deeply than would be represented by a scratch upon a stone.
He seemed absolutely unable to free himself from her fascination; and his
inability to do so, much as he tried--evidently thinking he had not the
ghost of a chance with her--gave her the pleasure of power; though she
more than sympathized when she overheard him heaving his deep drawn
sighs--privately to himself, as he supposed.

After prolonging his visit by every conceivable excuse in his power, he
summoned courage, and offered her his hand and his heart. Being in no
way disinclined to him, though not so fervid as he, and her uncle making
no objection to the match, she consented to share his fate, for better or
otherwise, in the distant colony where, as he assured her, his rice, and
coffee, and