and Mary Erskine walked along the road through the whole length
of the clearing, looking out for the best place to build their house.

"Perhaps it will be lonesome here this winter, Mary," said Albert. "I
don't know but that you would rather wait till next spring."

Mary Erskine hesitated about her reply. She did, in fact, wish to
come to her new home that fall, and she thought it was proper that
she should express the cordial interest which she felt in Albert's
plans;--but, then, on the other hand, she did not like to say any
thing which might seem to indicate a wish on her part to hasten the
time of their marriage. So she said doubtfully,--"I don't know;--I
don't think that it would be lonesome."

"What do you mean, Albert," said Mary Bell, "about Mary Erskine's
coming to live here? She can't come and live here, among all these
black stumps and logs."

Albert and Mary Erskine were too intent upon their own thoughts and
plans to pay any attention to Mary Bell's questions. So they walked
along without answering her.

"What could we have to _do_ this fall and winter?" asked Mary
Erskine. She wished to ascertain whether she could do any good by
coming at once, or whether it would be better, for Albert's plans, to
wait until the spring.

"Oh there will be plenty to do," said Albert. "I shall have to work a
great deal, while the ground continues open, in clearing up the land,
and getting it ready for sowing in the spring; and it will be a great
deal better for me to live here, in order to save my traveling back
and forth, so far, every night and morning. Then this winter I shall
have my tools to make,--and to finish the inside of the house, and
make the furniture; and if you have any leisure time you can spin.
But after all it will not be very comfortable for you, and perhaps you
would rather wait until spring."

"No," said Mary Erskine. "I would rather come this fall."

"Well," rejoined Albert, speaking in a tone of great satisfaction.
"Then I will get the house up next week, and we will be married very
soon after."

There were very few young men whose prospects in commencing life were
so fair and favorable as those of Albert. In the first place, he was
not obliged to incur any debt on account of his land, as most young
farmers necessarily do. His land was one dollar an acre. He had one
hundred dollars of his own, and enough besides to buy a winter stock
of provisions for his house. He had expected to have gone