e crossed,
and he had no wish that she should marry till she could be happier
with another than she was with them. Clara longed to tell him of her
acquaintance with Philip Sidney, but she feared it would make him
anxious, and resolved to say nothing till time had proved the truth of
her lover. From this time forth the subject of her marriage was not
mentioned, and Clara was left free to pursue her own inclinations. Her
presence was a continual source of happiness to her uncle, and her
life flowed on like a gentle stream, diffusing blessings on all around
her, while a sense of happiness conferred threw a lustre around every
hour.

CHAPTER IV.

CONCLUSION.

Five years had passed since the commencement of our tale, and Clara
and I still remained at our homes in Willowdale. Life had passed
gently with us, and the friendship formed in our school-days remained
unbroken. It was sweet to recall those days; and we passed many a
pleasant hour in the renewal of old memories. Clara had heard nothing
from Philip Sidney, save once, about a year before, when a letter from
Fan Selby informed her that he had called on them. He had inquired
very particularly after Clara, and said that he intended to visit
Willowdale the following year, but where the intervening time was to
be passed she did not know. It seemed very strange to me that Clara
should not doubt his truth from his long silence, but her faith
remained unshaken.

It was the day before Christmas, and the young people of Willowdale
were assembled to finish the decorations of the church. The garlands
were hung in deep festoons along the walls, and twined around the
pillars. The pulpit and altar were adorned with wreaths tastefully
woven of branches of box mingled with the dark-green leaves and
scarlet berries of the holly, the latter gathered from trees which the
old rector had planted in his youth, and carefully preserved for this
purpose. On the walls over the entrance was the inscription, "Glory to
God in the highest, on earth peace and good-will to men," in letters
covered with box, after the model of those we had seen in our
school-days. We surveyed our work with pleasure, mingled with anxiety
to discover any improvement that might be made, for we knew that a
stranger was that night to address us. The growing infirmities of the
old rector had for a long time rendered the duties of a pastor very
fatiguing to him, and he had announced to us the Sabbath before, that
a yo