. A village churchyard
fills up so gradually, that one is not startled with a sudden change. Mr.
Weston looked from the window at the ivy, and the gothic windows, and the
family vault, where many of his name reposed.

The inmates of the carriage had been conversing cheerfully, but as they
approached the point where they would see home, each one was occupied with
his or her musings. Occasionally, a pleasant word was exchanged, on the
appearance of the well-known neighborhood, the balmy air, and the many
shades of green that the trees presented; some of them loaded with white
and pink blossoms, promising still better things when the season should
advance.

Alice leaned from the window, watching for the first glimpse of the
well-remembered house. She greeted every tree they passed with a lively
look, and smiled gaily as the porter's lodge presented itself. The gates of
it flew open as the carriage approached, and Exeter in its beauty met their
view. "Oh, uncle," she said, turning from the window, "look! look! Is there
any place in the world like this?"

"No, indeed, Alice;" and he took a survey of the home which had been so
blessed to him. "How beautiful every thing looks! and how we will enjoy it,
after a crowded, noisy hotel. Anna, you are not sorry to see its familiar
face again. Ellen, my darling, we have not forgotten you--Exeter is your
home, too; you are as welcome as any of us. Why, you look sober; not
regretting Washington already?"

"No sir," said Ellen, "I was thinking of other things."

"Well," said Mrs. Weston, "we must look very happy this evening. I wonder,
Ellen, Mr. Barbour has not met us."

"I suppose," said Alice, laughing, "he is too much agitated at the thought
of meeting Ellen again--he will be over this evening, I dare say."

"I am sorry I can't keep my word with Mr. Barbour," said Ellen, "but I have
concluded to marry Abel Johnson, on Arthur's recommendation, and I ought
not to give good Mr. Barbour any false expectations."

"You must know, dear uncle," said Alice, "that Ellen and Arthur have been
carrying on a postscript correspondence in my letters, and Arthur has
turned matchmaker, and has been recommending Abel Johnson to Ellen. They
have fallen in love with each other, without having met, and that was the
reason Ellen was so hard-hearted last winter."

"Ah! that is the reason. But you must take care of these Yankee husbands,
Miss Ellen, if Mr. Kent be a specimen," said Mrs. Weston.