e friend that might protect him on the
throne would be the first to stab him on the highway.

A spreading elm stood near the door of Roughgrove's house, and beneath
its clustering boughs William and Mary were seated on a rude bench,
entirely screened from the glaring light of the sun. A few paces
distant the brook glided in low murmurs between the green flags and
water violets over its pebbly bed. The morning dew yet rested on the
grass in the shade. The soft sigh of the fresh breeze, as it passed
through the motionless branches of the towering elm, could scarce be
heard, but yet sufficed ever and anon to lift aside the glossy
ringlets that hung pendent to the maiden's shoulders. The paroquet and
the thrush, the bluebird and goldfinch, fluttered among the thick
foliage and trilled their melodies in sweetest cadence. Both the
brother and sister wore a happy smile. Happy, because the innocence of
angels dwelt in the bosom of the one, and the memory of his guileless
and blissful days of childhood possessed the other. Occasionally they
read some passages in a book that lay open on Mary's lap, describing
the last days of Charles I., and then the bright smile would be dimmed
for a moment by a shade of sadness.

"Oh! poor man!" exclaimed Mary, when William read of the axe of the
executioner descending on the neck of the prostrate monarch.

"It is far better to dwell in peace in such a quiet and lonely place
as this, than to be where so many cruel men abide," said William,
pondering.

"Ah me! I did not think that Christian men could be so cruel," said
Mary, a bright tear dropping from her long eyelash.

"But the book says he was a tyrant and deserved to die," continued the
youth, his lips compressed with firmness.

"He's coming!" exclaimed Mary, suddenly, and the pitying thought of
the unfortunate Charles vanished from her mind. But as she steadily
gazed up the path a crimson flush suffused her smooth brow and cheek,
and she rose gracefully, and with a smile of delight, welcomed Glenn
to the cool and refreshing shade of the majestic elm.

"You have come too late. William has already said his lesson, and I'm
sure he knew it perfectly," said Mary, half-reproachfully and
half-playfully.

"Mary don't know, Mr. Glenn; because I am now further advanced than
she is," said William.

"But what kept you away so long this beautiful morning?" continued the
innocent girl. "Don't you see the dew is almost dried away in the sun,
a