was rough. There was no difference between his lot and the lot of
those around him, and yet, in spite of this, he was looked at
askance by his new companions, while to crown all, he found very few
opportunities of meeting or seeing his beloved Dorothy.

Often had he made arrangements to meet her at different trysting
places, but, just as often had he waited patiently, only to be
disappointed by the non-arrival of his lady-love. In this sorry plight
he had been obliged to content himself with sending messages to her
through Lettice, whom he constantly met at her father's hut; or,
failing her, as a last resource he fell back upon communicating with
his lover through the unsatisfactory medium of the tree, where, not
unfrequently, as he placed a fresh note in he found the previous one
untouched.

At last, however, after many fruitless attempts which would assuredly
have effectually daunted less ardent lovers, they found themselves
once more together in the woods. What bliss, what rapture, what
delight, filled the heart of each as they gazed fondly at the other!
Dorothy felt bright and lithesome as of yore, as she felt the touch
of her lover's hands again. The weeks of misery through which she had
just passed seemed but as a dream to her as she once more heard his
cheery voice, and the haggard, careworn look, which had settled
upon her fair face of late, was instantly dispelled as her betrothed
imprinted a warm kiss upon her blushing cheeks. As for Manners, he was
completely transported with delight, and for some moments he bathed
his hungry eyes in the sunshine of her beauty. To see her again had
been his dearest wish, and now she stood before him, and he felt that
all the sacrifices he had been called upon to make for the sake of his
love were more than compensated for as he heard her gently call him by
the old familiar name.

"John," she said.

"Well, dearest one; we are met once more."

"You can trust me now?"

"Aye, indeed, I can," he replied, with glistening eyes. "Forgive me,
Doll, I know you will."

"I do; I did long ago. I knew you could not doubt me long. How good of
you to come, and to risk so much--for my sake," she added, raising her
lustrous eyes up to his.

"Nay, Doll, it were for my sake, too. I could not be far from thee
long; the saints forfend I should. But tell me, Dorothy, how go our
fortunes now; I fear not well?"

"Alas, no! Lady Maude is stricter than ever," she replied. "Were I a
lazy