had become a resident of the little
village. A narrow foot-path, that led through the sombre woods, brought
her to a sheltered spot upon the sloping shore, where she often came
alone to pass an idle hour. She had come to regard this place as her own
peculiar property, for no one had ever come here to interrupt her, or
claim any portion of its solitude.

It was a safe retreat from prying eyes, and it became to the girl, at
length, the one sacred spot where she could pour out her griefs to that
One, who looks upon His stricken children only to pity and forgive.

She sat, now, idly watching the sun sink in the western sky, behind the
far-off hills. She thought, as she noted the sunset, that she had never
seen anything more beautiful--

Amber, and purple, and crimson, and blue,
Glittering shades of every hue.
Fleecy cloudlets of silver-gray,
And shroud-like white, for the dying day.

She remembered, as her eye dwelt in admiration of the scene, of the
beautiful passages in Revelation, and of the gates of pearl and jasper,
"which shall not be shut at all by day, for there shall be no night
there." It almost seemed as if she could drift through these cloud
portals into the peace and rest beyond. Her heart yearned for the loving
clasp of the sweet pilgrim, who had gone before, and who had entered
into "the joy of her Lord." The thought comforted her. She rose up
absently to find two curious eyes fastened upon her, while Mr. Owen's
voice said at her elbow:

"You find this scene more congenial, it appears, than our well ordered
household, and dreaming away the hours, a much more agreeable task than
trying to make a lady of my homespun wife?"

"Why," said Clemence, nervously, not replying to this singular speech,
"how you startled me. Who would have thought of your being here? How did
you find me? Have you any message from your wife?"

"None, whatever," he said, regarding her strangely, and replying to her
last remark. "Do not go, just yet. Miss Graystone; I am tired, and would
like to rest."

"In that case," returned Clemence, "I will leave you to yourself, and
walk on, and you can come at your leisure."

"But I want to talk to you," he rejoined, detaining her, "I came here
particularly for that purpose."

His look said more than his words, and set the girl's heart beating with
sudden fear, as she thought of the strip of silent forest that lay
between them and the town.

"I am in haste," she said,