ly form, when there was a slight tap at the door, and before she
could speak, it opened, and Mary Grayson stood within it. She gazed in
silence for a moment on the striking figure before her, and her mind
rapidly scanned the changes which time and new modes of life had made in
the Philip Oswald of her memory. As she did so, she acknowledged that
the embrowned face and hands, the broader and more vigorous proportions,
and even the easy freedom of his dress, were more in harmony with the
bold and independent aspect which his character had assumed, than the
delicacy and elegance by which he had formerly been distinguished. His
outer man was now the true index of a noble, free, and energetic
spirit--a spirit which, having conquered itself, was victor over
all--and as such, it attracted from Mary a deeper and more reverent
admiration, than she had felt for him when adorned with all the
trappings of wealth and luxurious refinement. The very depth of this
sentiment destroyed the ease of her manner towards him, and as Philip
Oswald took the hand formerly so freely offered him, and heard from her
lips the respectful Mr. Oswald, instead of the frank, sisterly Philip,
he said to himself--"She looks down upon the backwoodsman, and would
have him know his place." So much for man's boasted penetration!

Notwithstanding the barrier of reserve thus erected between them, Philip
Oswald could not but admire the rare loveliness into which Mary
Grayson's girlish prettiness had expanded, and again, and yet again,
while she was speaking to his mother, and could not therefore perceive
him, he turned to gaze on her, fascinated not by the finely turned form
or beautiful features, but by the countenance beaming with gentle and
refined intelligence. Here was none of the brilliancy which had dazzled
his senses in Caroline Danby, but an expression of mind and heart far
more captivating to him who had entered into the inner mysteries of
life.

A fortnight was the limit of Philip Oswald's stay in the city. He had
come not for his mother, but for the house in which she was to live, and
he carried it back with him. We do not mean that his house, with all its
conveniences of kitchen and pantry, its elegances of parlor and
drawing-room, and its decorations of pillar and cornice fitly joined
together, travelled off with him to the far West. We do not despair of
seeing such a feat performed some day, but we believe it has not yet
been done, and Philip Oswa