first in the gentry of England. But, above
all, you will have the happiness to think that your forbearance for
a time has saved me, and, it may be, our children, sweet one!--from
poverty and--"

"It is enough," interrupted the girl; and the expression of her
countenance became serene and elevated. "It is for you--for your sake.
I know what you hazard: how much I must owe you! Forgive me, this is the
last murmur you shall ever hear from these lips."

An hour after these words were spoken, the marriage ceremony was
concluded.

"Caleb," said the bridegroom, drawing the clergyman aside as they were
about to re-enter the house, "you will keep your promise, I know; and
you think I may depend implicitly upon the good faith of the witness you
have selected?"

"Upon his good faith?--no," said Caleb, smiling, "but upon his deafness,
his ignorance, and his age. My poor old clerk! He will have forgotten
all about it before this day three months. Now I have seen your lady,
I no longer wonder that you incur so great a risk. I never beheld so
lovely a countenance. You will be happy!" And the village priest sighed,
and thought of the coming winter and his own lonely hearth.

"My dear friend, you have only seen her beauty--it is her least charm.
Heaven knows how often I have made love; and this is the only woman I
have ever really loved. Caleb, there is an excellent living that adjoins
my uncle's house. The rector is old; when the house is mine, you will
not be long without the living. We shall be neighbours, Caleb, and then
you shall try and find a bride for yourself. Smith,"--and the bridegroom
turned to the servant who had accompanied his wife, and served as a
second witness to the marriage,--"tell the post-boy to put to the horses
immediately."

"Yes, Sir. May I speak a word with you?"

"Well, what?"

"Your uncle, sir, sent for me to come to him, the day before we left
town."

"Aha!--indeed!"

"And I could just pick up among his servants that he had some
suspicion--at least, that he had been making inquiries--and seemed very
cross, sir."

"You went to him?"

"No, Sir, I was afraid. He has such a way with him;--whenever his eye
is fixed on mine, I always feel as if it was impossible to tell a lie;
and--and--in short, I thought it was best not to go."

"You did right. Confound this fellow!" muttered the bridegroom, turning
away; "he is honest, and loves me: yet, if my uncle sees him, he is
clumsy enough to betray al