ream with gems of sparkling gold. The tall lilac bushes were
filled with large red and white blossoms, and as they slightly nodded
their graceful heads before the passing zephyr, might have been
fancied to be giving a cold greeting to some humbler flower that grew
by their side.

In a large, square, old fashioned house, encircled by a neat white
fence, which separated it from the street, might be seen a young girl,
occupied in what New England housewives would call setting the house
in order, and very carefully are all things arranged, the crockery
being nicely washed and wiped to a shining brightness, stands neatly
arranged in their proper places, on shelves scoured to a snowy
whiteness. The floor is nicely swept, every chair carefully dusted,
and set back in its proper place, and the broom and the brush hung
back upon their accustomed nail. The young mistress stood looking
round the apartment with the air of one who feels they have
accomplished well the designated task, when she started upon hearing
her own name called, and in a moment Edward Merton stood by her side.

"Annie, come, Annie, just don your sun-bonnet, and walk with us to the
Island."

Suiting the action to the word, he placed her bonnet upon her head,
and drew her willing arm in his, and they soon joined the group of gay
companions that stood chatting and laughing at the door. Well did the
sable dress that Annie wore become her fine complexion, for the rose
blended with the lily upon her cheek, and beauty sat triumphant upon
her ruby lips and sparkled in her dark flashing eyes. But recent
events had cast an expression of melancholy over her countenance,
which for a moment had a sobering influence over her young companions
when she joined them.

Edward and Annie lingered a little behind the rest, talking of their
future prospects, and of the coming separation, as Edward was soon to
leave for Boston, where a more desirable situation was offered him
than could be obtained in the village.

"My increased income, my dear Annie, will enable me the sooner to
claim you for my bride; true, the separation will be painful, but I
am determined never to marry till I can commence house-keeping
genteelly."

She looked earnestly in his face and said, "Edward, it is home where
the heart is, and it seems to me we should not spurn a present for a
future good. This life is short and uncertain, and I feel a gloomy
foreboding when I think of your departure, I have been