it. No, no, Laura; those were the most precious
moments in my life, when I drew from you those words and looks which
have been blessed in remembrance ever since; and doubly, knowing, as I
do, that you also prize that day.'

'Yes--yes;--'

'In the midst of much that was adverse, and with a necessity for a trust
and self-control of which scarce a woman but yourself would have been
capable, you have endured nobly--'

'I could bear anything, if you were not going so far away,'

'You will bear that too, Laura, and bravely. It will not be for ever.'

'How long do you think?'

'I cannot tell. Several years may pass before I have my promotion. It
may be that I shall not see that cheek in its fresh bloom again, but I
shall find the same Laura that I left, the same in love, and strength,
and trust.'

'Ah; I shall grow faded and gray, and you will be a sun-burnt old
soldier,' said Laura, smiling, and looking, half sadly, half proudly, up
to his noble features; 'but hearts don't change like faces!'

After they came near the house, they walked up and down the lane for a
long time, for Philip avoided a less public path, in order to keep up
his delusion that he was doing nothing in an underhand way. It grew
dark, and the fog thickened, straightening Laura's auburn ringlets, and
hanging in dew-drops on Philip's rough coat, but little recked they; it
was such an hour as they had never enjoyed before. Philip had never
so laid himself open, or assured her so earnestly of the force of his
affection; and her thrills of ecstasy overcame the desolate expectation
of his departure, and made her sensible of strength to bear seven, ten,
twenty years of loneliness and apparent neglect. She knew him, and he
would never fail her.

Yet, when at last they went in-doors, and Amy followed her to her room,
wondering to find her so wet, and so late, who could have seen the two
sisters without reading greater peace and serenity in the face of the
younger.

Philip felt an elder brother's interest for poor little Amy. He did not
see much of her; but he compassionated her as a victim to her mother's
imprudence, hoping she would soon be weaned from her attachment. He
thought her a good, patient little thing, so soft and gentle as probably
not to have the strength and depth that would make the love incurable;
and the better he liked her, the more unfit he thought her for Guy. It
would have been uniting a dove and a tiger; and his only fear was, tha