e blow of the wave to fall, and drown the precious argosy
with all its freight of love, and hope, and memory--this is the
supreme agony of youth, the last and most refined of tortures.

Verty lived in the thought of meeting Redbud--his days were full of
her; but the hours he passed at Apple Orchard were the brightest. The
noonday culminated at dawn and sunset!

As he approached the pleasant homestead now, his eyes lighted up, and
his face beamed with smiles. Redbud was standing in the porch waiting
for him.

She was clad with her usual simplicity, and smiled gently as he
approached. Verty threw the bundle upon Cloud's mane, and came to her.

They scarcely interchanged a word, but the hand of the girl was
imprisoned in his own; and the tenderness which had been slowly
gathering for months into love, pure, and deep, and strong, flushed
his ingenuous face, and made his eyes swim in tears.

It was well that Verty was interrupted as he essayed to speak; for we
cannot tell what he would have said. He did not speak; for just as he
opened his lips, a gruff voice behind him uttered the words:

"Well, sir! where is your business?"

CHAPTER LXIII.

HOW VERTY AND MISS LAVINIA RAN A-TILT AT EACH OTHER, AND WHO WAS
OVERTHROWN.

The young man turned round: the gruff voice belonged to Judge Rushton.

That gentleman had left his horse at the outer gate, and approached
the house on foot. Absorbed by his own thoughts, Verty had not seen
him--as indeed neither had Redbud--and the gruff voice gave the young
man the first intimation of his presence.

"Well," repeated the lawyer, leaning on his knotty stick, and scowling
at the two young people from beneath his shaggy eyebrows, "what are
you standing there staring at me for? Am I a wild beast, a rhinoceros,
or a monster of any description, that you can't speak? I asked you why
you were not in town at your work?"

Verty pointed to the horizon.

"The day has only begun," he said.

"Well, sir--"

"And I stopped for only one minute, Mr. Rushton," added Verty."

"One minute! Do you know, sir, that life is made up of minutes?"

"Yes, sir," said Verty.

"Well, if you know that, why do you trifle away your minutes? Don't
reply to me, young man," continued the shaggy bear, "I have no desire
to argue with you--I hate and despise arguing, and will not indulge
you. But remember this, Life is the struggle of a man to pay the debt
he owes to Duty. If he forgets his work, or n