t them both free to pursue their inclinations and plans
for their own happiness and for the benefit of others. And she sought in
her bosom if the letters were safe. Yes; there they were; she felt them.
Her happiness had seemed a dream without that proof of its reality. For
once she gave way to imagination, and allowed that magician to build
castles in the air at will. Thurston and herself must go to England
immediately to take possession of the estate; that was certain. Then
they must return. But ere that she would confide to him her darling
project; one that she had never breathed to any, because to have done so
would have been vain; one that she had longingly dreamed of, but never,
as now, hoped to realize. And Edith--she would make Edith so
comfortable! Edith should be again surrounded with the elegancies and
refinements of life. And Miriam--Miriam should have every advantage of
education that wealth could possibly secure for her, either in this
country or in Europe. If Edith would spare Miriam, the little girl
should go with her to England. But Thurston--above all, Thurston! A
heavy drop of rain struck Marian in the face, and, for an instant, woke
her from her blissful reverie.

She looked up. Why did not Thurston come? The storm would soon burst
forth upon the earth; where was Thurston? Were he by her side there
would be nothing formidable in the storm, for he would shelter her with
his cloak and umbrella, as they should scud along over the fields to the
cottage, and reach the fireside before the rain could overtake them.
Where was he? What could detain him at such a time? She peered through
the darkness up and down the beach. To her accustomed eye, the features
of the landscape were dimly visible. That black form looming like a
shadowy giant before her was the headland of Pine Bluff, with its base
washed by the sullen waves. It was the only object that broke the dark,
dull monotony of the shore. She listened; the moan of the sea, the wail
of the wind, were blended in mournful chorus. It was the only sound that
broke the dreary silence of the hour.

Hark! No; there was another sound. Amid the moaning and the wailing of
winds and waves, and the groaning of the coming storm, was heard the
regular fall of oars, soon followed by the slow, grating sound of a boat
pushed up upon the frozen strand. Marian paused and strained her eyes
through the darkness in the direction of the sound, but could see
nothing save the deepe