l I be driven myself. Your love is not such a desperate affair as to
burn itself out for the want of better fuel; and you can wait for the
proper season. If I thought for a moment that you did or could have any
regard for the child, and she could be happy or even comfortable with
you, I might push the thing something harder than I do; but, as it
stands, you must be patient. The fruit drops when it is ripe."

"Rather when the frost is on it, and the worm is in the core, and decay
has progressed to rottenness! Speak you in this way to the hungry boy,
whose eyes have long anticipated his appetite, and he may listen to you
and be patient--I neither can nor will. Look to it, Munro: I will not
much longer submit to be imposed upon."

"Nor I, Guy Rivers. You forget yourself greatly, and entirely mistake
me, when you take these airs upon you. You are feverish now, and I will
not suffer myself to grow angry; but be prudent in your speech. We shall
see to all this to-morrow and the next day--there is quite time
enough--when we are both cooler and calmer than at present. The night is
something too warm for deliberation; and it is well we say no more on
the one subject till we learn the course of the other. The hour is late,
and we had best retire. In the morning I shall ride to hear old Parson
Witter, in company with the old woman and Lucy. Ride along with us, and
we shall be able better to understand one another."

As he spoke, Munro emerged from the cover of the tree under which their
dialogue had chiefly been carried on, and reapproached the dwelling,
from which they had considerably receded. His companion lingered in the
recess.

"I will be there," said Rivers, as they parted, "though I still propose
a ride of a few miles to-night. My blood is hot, and I must quiet it
with a gallop."

The landlord looked incredulous as he replied--"Some more deviltry: I
will take a bet that the cross-roads see you in an hour."

"Not impossible," was the response, and the parties were both lost to
sight--the one in the shelter of his dwelling, the other in the dim
shadow of the trees which girdled it.

CHAPTER XI.

FOREST PREACHING.

At an early hour of the ensuing morning, Ralph was aroused from his
slumbers, which had been more than grateful from the extra degree of
fatigue he had the day before undergone, by the appearance of Forrester,
who apologized for the somewhat unseasonable nature of his visit, by
bringing tidings o