thesurgery

Hurstwood could not conceal his feelings about the matter. Carrie could not help wondering where she was drifting. It got so that they talked even less than usual, and yet it was not Hurstwood who felt any objection to Carrie. It was Carrie who shied away from him. This he noticed. It aroused an objection to her becoming indifferent to him. He made the possibility of friendly intercourse almost a giant task, and then noticed with discontent that Carrie added to it by her manner and made it more impossible.uggs

At last the final day came. When it actually arrived, Hurstwood, who had got his mind into such a state where a thunderclap and raging storm would have seemed highly appropriate, was rather relieved to find that it was a plain, ordinary day. The sun shone, the temperature was pleasant. He felt, as he came to the breakfast table, that it wasn't so terrible, after all.

"Well," he said to Carrie, "to-day's my last day on earth."

Carrie smiled in answer to his humour.

Hurstwood glanced over his paper rather gayly. He seemed to have lost a load.

"I'll go down for a little while," he said after breakfast, "and then I'll look around. To-morrow I'll spend the whole day looking about. I think I can get something, now this thing's off my hands."

He went out smiling and visited the place. Shaughnessy was there. They had made all arrangements to share according to their interests. When, however, he had been there several hours, gone out three more, and returned, his elation had departed. As much as he had objected to the place, now that it was no longer to exist, he felt sorry. He wished that things were different.

Shaughnessy was coolly businesslike.

"Well," he said at five o'clock, "we might as well count the change and divide."

They did so. The fixtures had already been sold and the sum divided.

"Good-night," said Hurstwood at the final moment, in a last effort to be genial.

"So long," said Shaughnessy, scarcely deigning a notice.

Thus the Warren Street arrangement was permanently concluded.

Carrie had prepared a good dinner at the flat, but after his ride up, Hurstwood was in a solemn and reflective mood.

"Well?" said Carrie, inquisitively.ugg boots

"I'm out of that," he answered, taking off his coat.

As she looked at him, she wondered what his financial state was now. They ate and talked a little.

"Will you have enough to buy in anywhere else?" asked Carrie.

"No," he said. "I'll have to get something else and save up."

"It would be nice if you could get some place," said Carrie, prompted by anxiety and hope.

"I guess I will," he said reflectively.

For some days thereafter he put on his overcoat regularly in the morning and sallied forth. On these ventures he first consoled himself with the thought that with the seven hundred dollars he had he could still make some advantageous arrangement. He thought about going to some brewery, which, as he knew, frequently controlled saloons which they leased, and get them to help him. Then he remembered that he would have to pay out several hundred any way for fixtures and that he would have nothing left for his monthly expenses. It was costing him nearly eighty dollars a month to live.

the egotism of my feelings, I accused her of indifference---of insensibility. I upbraided her father with pride---with runescape accountscruelty ---with fanaticism,---forgetting that both were sacrificing their interest, and Diana her inclination, to the discharge of what they regarded as their duty.runescape money

Sir Frederick Vernon was a rigid Catholic, who thought the path of salvation too narrow to be trodden by an heretic; runescape goldand Diana, to whom her father's safety had been for many years the principal and moving spring of thoughts, hopes, and actions, felt that she had discharged her duty in resigning to his will, not alone her property in the world, but the runescape power levelingdearest affections of her heart. But it was not surprising that I could not, at such a moment, fully appreciate these honourable motives; yet my spleen sought no ignoble means of discharging itself.

``I am contemned, then,'' I said, when left to run over the tenor of Sir Frederick's communications---``I am contemned, and thought unworthy even to exchange words with her. Be it so; they shall not at least prevent me from watching over her safety. Here will I remain as an outpost, and, while under my roof at least, no danger shall threaten her, if it be such as the arm of one determined man can avert.''

I summoned Syddall to the library. He came, but came attended by the eternal Andrew, who, dreaming of great things in consequence of my taking possession of the Hall and the annexed estates, was resolved to lose nothing for want of keeping himself in view; and, as often happens to men who entertain selfish objects, overshot his mark, and rendered his attentions tedious and inconvenient.

His unrequired presence prevented me from speaking freely to Syddall, and I dared not send him away for fear of increasing such suspicions as he might entertain from his former abrupt dismissal from the library. ``I shall sleep here, sir,'' I said, giving them directions to wheel nearer to the fire an old-fashioned day-bed, or settee. ``I have much to do, and shall go late to bed.''

Syddall, who seemed to understand my look, offered to procure me the accommodation of a mattress and some bedding. I accepted his offer, dismissed my attendant, lighted a pair of candles, and desired that I might not be disturbed till seven in the ensuing morning.

The domestics retired, leaving me to my painful and ill-arranged reflections, until nature, worn out, should require some repose.

I endeavoured forcibly to abstract my mind from the singular circumstances in which I found myself placed. Feelings which I had gallantly combated while the exciting object was remote, were now exasperated by my immediate neighbourhood to her whom I was so soon to part with for ever. Her name was written in every book which I attempted to peruse; and her image forced itself on me in whatever train of thought I strove to engage myself. It was like the officious slave of Prior's Solomon,---

Abra was ready ere I named her name, And when I called another, Abra came.

I alternately gave way to these thoughts, and struggled against them, sometimes yielding to a mood of melting tenderness of sorrow which was scarce natural to me, sometimes arming myself with the hurt pride of one who had experienced what he esteemed unmerited rejection. I paced the library until I had chafed myself into a temporary fever. I then threw myself on the couch, and endeavoured to dispose myself to sleep;---but it was in vain that I used every effort to compose myself---that I lay without movement of finger or of muscle, as still as if I had been already a corpse---that I endeavoured to divert or banish disquieting thoughts, by fixing my mind on some act of repetition or arithmetical process. My blood throbbed, to my feverish apprehension, in pulsations which resembled the deep and regular strokes of a distant fulling-mill, and tingled in my veins like streams of liquid fire.

At length I arose, opened the window, and stood by it for some time in the clear moonlight, receiving, in part at least, that refreshment and dissipation of ideas from the clear and calm scene, without which they had become beyond the command of my own volition. I resumed my place on the couch--- with a heart, Heaven knows, not lighter but firmer, and more resolved for endurance. In a short time a slumber crept over my senses; still, however, though my senses slumbered, my soul was awake to the painful feelings of my situation, and my dreams were of mental anguish and external objects of terror.

I remember a strange agony, under which I conceived myself and Diana in the power of MacGregor's wife, and about to be precipitated from a rock into the lake; the signal was to be the discharge of a cannon, fired by Sir Frederick Vernon, who, in the dress of a Cardinal, officiated at the ceremony. Nothing could be more lively than the impression which I received of this imaginary scene. I could paint, even at this moment, the mute and courageous submission expressed in Diana's features ---the wild and distorted faces of the executioners, who crowded around us with ``mopping and mowing;'' grimaces ever changing, and each more hideous than that which preceded. I saw the rigid and inflexible fanaticism painted in the face of the father---I saw him lift the fatal match---the deadly signal exploded ---It was repeated again and again and again, in rival thunders, by the echoes of the surrounding cliffs, and I awoke from fancied horror to real apprehension.

The sounds in my dream were not ideal. They reverberated on my waking ears, but it was two or three minutes ere I could collect myself so as distinctly to understand that they proceeded from a violent knocking at the gate. I leaped from my couch in great apprehension, took my sword under my arm, and hastened to forbid the admission of any one. But my route was necessarily circuitous, because the library looked not upon the quadrangle, but into the gardens. When I had reached a staircase, the windows of which opened upon the entrance court, I heard the feeble and intimidated tones of Syddall expostulating with rough voices, which demanded admittance, by the warrant of Justice Standish, and in the King's name, and threatened the old domestic with the heaviest penal consequences if he refused instant obedience. Ere they had ceased, I heard, to my unspeakable provocation, the voice of Andrew bidding Syddall stand aside, and let him open the door.

``If they come in King George's name, we have naething to fear---we hae spent baith bluid and gowd for him---We dinna need to darn ourselves like some folks, Mr. Syddall---we are neither Papists nor Jacobites, I trow.''

It was in vain I accelerated my pace down stairs; I heard bolt after bolt withdrawn by the officious scoundrel, while all the time he was boasting his own and his master's loyalty to King George; and I could easily calculate that the party must enter before I could arrive at the door to replace the bars. Devoting the back of Andrew Fairservice to the cudgel so soon as I should have time to pay him his deserts, I ran back to the library, barricaded the door as I best could, and hastened to that by which Diana and her father entered, and begged for instant admittance. Diana herself undid the door. She was ready dressed, and betrayed neither perturbation nor fear.

``Danger is so familiar to us,'' she said, ``that we are always prepared to meet it. My father is already up---he is in Rashleigh's apartment. We will escape into the garden, and thence by the postern-gate (I have the key from Syddall in case of need.) into the wood---I know its dingles better than any one now alive. Keep them a few minutes in play. And, dear, dear Frank, once more fare-thee-well!''

"I don't believe I ever did much, really."runescape power leveling 

"Well, you shall take me to your kind of a restaurant."

"I don't believe you'd care much for penny meat-pies."runescape accounts

"Little meat-pies?"

"Um-huh."

"Little crispy ones? With flaky covers?"runescape money"Why, course I would! And ha'p'ny tea? Lead me to it, O brave knight! And to a vaudeville."

He found that this devoted attendant of theaters had never seen the beautiful Italians who pounce upon protesting zylophones with small clubs, or the side-splitting juggler's assistant who breaks up piles and piles of plates. And as to the top hat that turns into an accordion and produces much melody, she was ecstatic.

At after-theater supper he talked of Theresa and South Beach, of Charley Carpenter and Morton--Morton--Morton.

They sat, at midnight, on the steps of the house in Tavistock Place.

"I do know you now, "she mused. "It's curious how any two babes in a strange-enough woods get acquainted. You are a lonely child, aren't you?" Her voice was mother-soft. "We will play just a little----"

"I wish I had some games to teach. But you know so much."

"And I'm a perfect beauty, too, aren't I?" she said, gravely.

"Yes, you are!" stoutly.

"You would be loyal.... And I need some one's admiration.... Mostly, Paris and London hold their sides laughing at poor Istra."

He caught her hand. "Oh, don't! They must 'preciate you. I'd like to kill anybody that didn't!"

"Thanks." She gave his hand a return pressure and hastily withdrew her own. "You'll be good to some sweet pink face.... And I'll go on being discontented. Oh, isn 't life the fiercest proposition!... We seem different, you and I, but maybe it's mostly surface--down deep we're alike in being desperately unhappy because we never know what we're unhappy about. Well----"

He wanted to put his head down on her knees and rest there. But he sat still, and presently their cold hands snuggled together.

After a silence, in which they were talking of themselves, he burst out: "But I don't see how Paris could help 'preciating you. I'll bet you're one of the best artists they ever saw.... The way you made up a picture in your mind about that juggler!"

"Nope. Sorry. Can't paint at all."

"Ah, stuff!" with a rudeness quite masterful. "I'll bet your pictures are corkers."

"Um."

"Please, would you let me see some of them some time. I suppose it would bother----"

"Come up-stairs. I feel inspired. You are about to hear some great though nasty criticisms on the works of the unfortunate Miss Nash."

She led the way, laughing to herself over something. She gave him no time to blush and hesitate over the impropriety of entering a lady's room at midnight, but stalked ahead with a brief "Come in."

She opened a large portfolio covered with green-veined black paper and yanked out a dozen unframed pastels and wash-drawings which she scornfully tossed on the bed, saying, as she pointed to a mass of Marseilles roofs:

"Do you see this sketch? The only good thing about it is the thing that last art editor, that red-headed youth, probably didn't like. Don't you hate red hair? You see these ridiculous glaring purple shadows under the clocher?"

She stared down at the picture interestedly, forgetting him, pinching her chin thoughtfully, while she murmured: "They're rather nice. Rather good. Rather good."

Then, quickly twisting her shoulders about, she poured out:

"But look at this. Consider this arch. It's miserably out of drawing. And see how I've faked this figure? It isn't a real person at all. Don't you notice how I've juggled with this stairway? Why, my dear man, every bit of the drawing in this thing would disgrace a seventh-grade drawing-class in Dos Puentes. And regard the bunch of lombardies in this other picture. They look like umbrellas upside down in a silly wash-basin. Uff! It's terrible. Affreux! Don't act as though you liked them. You really needn't, you know. Can't you see now that they're hideously out of drawing?"

Mr. Wrenn's fancy was walking down a green lane of old France toward a white cottage with orange-trees gleaming against its walls. In her pictures he had found the land of all his forsaken dreams.

"I--I--I----" was all he could say, but admiration pulsed in it.

"Thank you.... Yes, we will play. Good night. To-morrow!"

And all this," exclaimed Trina, "on account of a set of gold dishes that never existed."

CHAPTER 17runescape accounts

One day, about a fortnight after the coroner's inquest had been held, and when the excitement of the terrible affair runescape power levelingwas calming down and Polk Street beginning to resume its monotonous routine, Old Grannis sat in his clean, well-kept little room, in his cushioned armchair, his hands lying idly upon his knees. It was runescape goldevening; not quite time to light the lamps. Old Grannis had drawn his chair close to the wall-- so close, in fact, that he could hear Miss Baker's grenadine brushing against the other side of the thin partition, at his very elbow, while she rocked gently back and forth, a cup of tea in her hands.runescape money

Old Grannis's occupation was gone. That morning the book- selling firm where he had bought his pamphlets had taken his little binding apparatus from him to use as a model. The transaction had been concluded. Old Grannis had received his check. It was large enough, to be sure, but when all was over, he returned to his room and sat there sad and unoccupied, looking at the pattern in the carpet and counting the heads of the tacks in the zinc guard that was fastened to the wall behind his little stove. By and by he heard Miss Baker moving about. It was five o'clock, the time when she was accustomed to make her cup of tea and "keep company" with him on her side of the partition. Old Grannis drew up his chair to the wall near where he knew she was sitting. The minutes passed; side by side, and separated by only a couple of inches of board, the two old people sat there together, while the afternoon grew darker.

But for Old Grannis all was different that evening. There was nothing for him to do. His hands lay idly in his lap. His table, with its pile of pamphlets, was in a far corner of the room, and, from time to time, stirred with an uncertain trouble, he turned his head and looked at it sadly, reflecting that he would never use it again. The absence of his accustomed work seemed to leave something out of his life. It did not appear to him that he could be the same to Miss Baker now; their little habits were disarranged, their customs broken up. He could no longer fancy himself so near to her. They would drift apart now, and she would no longer make herself a cup of tea and "keep company" with him when she knew that he would never again sit before his table binding uncut pamphlets. He had sold his happiness for money; he had bartered all his tardy romance for some miserable banknotes. He had not foreseen that it would be like this. A vast regret welled up within him. What was that on the back of his hand? He wiped it dry with his ancient silk handkerchief.

Old Grannis leant his face in his hands. Not only did an inexplicable regret stir within him, but a certain great tenderness came upon him. The tears that swam in his faded blue eyes were not altogether those of unhappiness. No, this long-delayed affection that had come upon him in his later years filled him with a joy for which tears seemed to be the natural expression. For thirty years his eyes had not been wet, but tonight he felt as if he were young again. He had never loved before, and there was still a part of him that was only twenty years of age. He could not tell whether he was profoundly sad or deeply happy; but he was not ashamed of the tears that brought the smart to his eyes and the ache to his throat. He did not hear the timid rapping on his door, and it was not until the door itself opened that he looked up quickly and saw the little retired dressmaker standing on the threshold, carrying a cup of tea on a tiny Japanese tray. She held it toward him.

"I was making some tea," she said, "and I thought you would like to have a cup."

Never after could the little dressmaker understand how she had brought herself to do this thing. One moment she had been sitting quietly on her side of the partition, stirring her cup of tea with one of her Gorham spoons. She was quiet, she was peaceful. The evening was closing down tranquilly. Her room was the picture of calmness and order. The geraniums blooming in the starch boxes in the window, the aged goldfish occasionally turning his iridescent flank to catch a sudden glow of the setting sun. The next moment she had been all trepidation. It seemed to her the most natural thing in the world to make a steaming cup of tea and carry it in to Old Grannis next door. It seemed to her that he was wanting her, that she ought to go to him. With the brusque resolve and intrepidity that sometimes seizes upon very timid people--the courage of the coward greater than all others--she had presented herself at the old Englishman's half-open door, and, when he had not heeded her knock, had pushed it open, and at last, after all these years, stood upon the threshold of his room. She had found courage enough to explain her intrusion.

"I was making some tea, and I thought you would like to have a cup."

``O, friend,'' thought Hobbie to himself, as he drew back, ``an I had you but on Turner's-holm,<*> and naebody by but twa

• The King's Keys for searching lockfast places, if peaceable entrance * be refused, are the broad axe and crowbar. Entrance, in a word, is forced.  runescape gold             
     
              
          

every living soul we find in the house, if ye dinna gie it ower forthwith!'' menaced the incensed Hobbie.

``He has a white feather in his wing this same Westburnflat, after a','' said Simon of Hackburn, somewhat scandalised by his ready surrender.---``He'll ne'er fill his father's boots.''runescape accounts

In the meanwhile, the inner door of the tower was opened, and the mother of the freebooter appeared in the space betwixt that and the outer grate. Willie himself was next seen, leading forth a female; and the old woman, carefully bolting the grate behind them, remained on the post as a sort of sentinel.

``Ony ane or twa o' ye come forward,'' said the outlaw, ``and take her frae my hand haill and sound.''runescape money

Hobbie advanced eagerly to meet his betrothed bride. Earnscliff followed more slowly, to guard against treachery. Suddenly Hobbie slackened his pace in the deepest mortification, while that of Earnscliff was hastened by impatient surprise. It was not Grace Armstrong, but Miss Isabella Vere, whose liberation had been effected by their runescape power levelingappearance before the tower.

``Where is Grace? where is Grace Armstrong?'' exclaimed Hobbie, in the extremity of wrath and indignation.

``Not in my hands,'' answered Westburnflat; ``ye may search the tower, if ye misdoubt me.''

``You false villain, you shall account for her, or die on the spot,'' said Elliot, presenting his gun.

But his companions, who now came up, instantly disarmed him of his weapon, exclaiming, all at once, ``Hand and glove! faith and troth! Haud a care, Hobbie; we maun keep our faith wi' Westburnflat, were he the greatest rogue ever rode.''

Thus protected, the outlaw recovered his audacity, which had been somewhat daunted by the menacing gesture of Elliot.

``I have kept my word, sirs,'' he said, ``and I look to have nae wrang amang ye. If this is no the prisoner ye sought,'' he said, addressing Earnscliff, ``ye'll render her back to me again. I am answerable for her to those that aught her.''

``For God's sake, Mr. Earnscliff, protect me!'' said Miss Vere. clinging to her deliverer; ``do not you abandon one whom the whole world seems to have abandoned.''

``Fear nothing,'' whispered Earnscliff, ``I will protect you with my life.'' Then turning to Westburnflat, ``Villain!'' he said, ``how dared you insult this lady?''

``For that matter, Earnscliff,' answered the freebooter, ``I can answer to them that has better right to ask me than you have; but if _you_ come with an armed force, and take her awa from them that her friends lodged her wi', how will you answer _that?_---But it's your ain affair---Nae single man can keep a tower against twenty---A' the men o' the Mearns downa do mair than they dew.''

``He lies most falsely,'' said Isabella; ``he carried me off by violence from my father.''

``Maybe he only wanted ye to think sae, hinny,'' replied the robber; ``but it's nae business o' mine, let it be as it may.---So ye winna resign her back to me?''

``Back to you, fellow! Surely no,'' answered Earnscliff; ``I will protect Miss Vere, and escort her safely wherever she is pleased to be conveyed.''

``Ay, ay, maybe you and her hae settled that already,'' said Willie of Westburnflat.

``And Grace?'' interrupted Hobbie, shaking himself loose from the friends who had been preaching to him the sanctity of the safe-conduct, upon the faith of which the freebooter had ventured from his tower,---``Where's Grace?'' and he rushed on the marauder, sword in hand.

Westburnflat, thus pressed, after calling out, ``Godsake, Hobbie, hear me a gliff!'' fairly turned his back and fled. His mother stood ready to open and shut the grate; but Hobbie struck at the freebooter as he entered, with so much force, that the sword made a considerable cleft in the lintel of the vaulted door, which is still shown as a memorial of the superior strength of those who lived in the days of yore.<*> Ere Hobbie could

• There is a level meadow on the very margin of the two kingdoms, called Turner's-holm, just where the brook called Crissop joins the Liddel. It is said to have derived its name as being a place frequently assigned * for tourneys, during the ancient Border times.

honest lads to see fair play, I wad make ye wish ye had broken your leg ere ye had touched beast or body that belonged to me!''

``Ye hae broken truce already,'' said old Dick of the Dingle ``an we takna the better care, ye'll play mair gowk's tricks, and make yourself the laughing-stock of the haill country, besides having your friends charged with slaughter under trust. Bide till the meeting at Castleton as ye hae greed; and if he disna make ye amends, then we'll hae it out o' his heart's blood. But let us gang reasonably to wark and keep our tryst, and I'se warrant we get back Grace, and the kye an' a'.''

This cold-blooded reasoning went ill down with the unfortunate lover; but, as he could only obtain the assistance of his neighbours and kinsmen on their own terms, he was compelled to acquiesce in their notions of good faith and regular procedure.

Earnscliff now requested the assistance of a few of the party to convey Miss Vere to her father's castle of Ellieslaw, to which she was peremptory in desiring to be conducted. This was readily granted; and five or six young men agreed to attend him as an escort. Hobbie was not of the number. Almost heart-broken by the events of the day, and his final disappointment, he returned moodily home to take such measures as he could for the sustenance and protection of his family, and to arrange with his neighbours the farther steps which should be adopted for the recovery of Grace Armstrong. The rest of the party dispersed in different directions, as soon as they had crossed the morass. The outlaw and his mother watched them from the tower, until they entirely disappeared.

CHAPTER TENTH.

I left my ladye's bower last night--- It was clad in wreaths of snaw,--- I'll seek it when the sun is bright, And sweet the roses blaw. Old Ballad.

Incensed at what he deemed the coldness of his friends in a cause which interested him so nearly, Hobbie had shaken him self free of their company, and was now on his solitary road homeward. ``The fiend founder thee!' said he, as he spurred impatiently his over-fatigued and stumbling horse; ``thou art like a the rest o' them. Hae I not bred thee, and fed thee, and dressed thee wi' mine ain hand, and wouldst thou snapper now and break my neck at my utmost need? But thou'rt e'en like the lave---the farthest off o' them a' is my cousin ten times removed, and day or night I wad hae served them wi' my best blood; and now, I think they show mair regard to the common thief of Westburnflat than to their ain kinsman. But I should see the lights now in Heugh-foot---Wae's me!'' he continued, recollecting himself, ``there will neither coal nor candle-light shine in the Heugh-foot ony mair! An it werna for my mother and sisters, and poor Grace, I could find in my heart to set spurs to the beast, and loup ower the scaur into the water to make an end o't a'.''---In this disconsolate mood he turned his horse's bridle towards the cottage in which his family had found refuge.

As he approached the door, he heard whispering and tittering amongst his sisters. ``The deevil's in the women,'' said poor Hobbie; ``they would nicker, and laugh, and giggle, if their best friend was lying a corp---and yet I am glad they can keep up their hearts sae weel, poor silly things; but the dirdum fa's on me, to be sure, and no on them.''

While he thus meditated, he was engaged in fastening up his horse in a shed. ``Thou maun do without horse-sheet and surcingle now, lad,'' he said, addressing the animal; ``you and me hae had a downcome alike. we had better hae fa'en in the deepest pool o' Tarras.''

He was interrupted by the youngest of his sisters, who came running out, and speaking in a constrained voice, as if to stifle some emotion, called out to him, ``What are you doing there, Hobbie, fiddling about the naig, and there's ane frae Cumberland been waiting here for you this hour and mair? Haste ye in, man; I'll take off the saddle.''

``Ane frae Cumberland!'' exclaimed Elliot; and putting the bridle of his horse into the hand of his sister, he rushed into the cottage. ``Where is he? where is he?'' he exclaimed, glancing eagerly around, and seeing only females; ``Did he bring news of Grace?''

``He doughtna bide an instant langer,'' said the elder sister, still with a suppressed laugh.

``Hout fie, bairns!'' said the old lady, with something of a good-humoured reproof, ``ye shouldna vex your billy Hobbie that way.---Look round, my bairn, and see if there isna ane here mair than ye left this morning.''

Hobbie looked eagerly round. ``There's you and the three titties.''

``There's four of us now, Hobbie, lad,'' said the youngest, who at this moment entered.

In an instant Hobbie had in his arms Grace Armstrong, who, with one of his sister's plaids around her, had passed unnoticed at his first entrance. ``How dared you do this?'' said Hobbie.

``It wasna my fault,' said Grace, endeavouring to cover her face with her hands, to hide at once her blushes, and escape the storm of hearty kisses with which her bridegroom punished her simple stratagem,---``It wasna my fault, Hobbie; ye should kiss Jeanie and the rest o them, for they hae the wyte o't.''

``And so I will,'' said Hobbie, and embraced and kissed his sisters and grandmother a hundred times, while the whole party half-laughed, half-cried, in the extremity of their joy. ``I am the happiest man,'' said Hobbie, throwing himself down on a seat, almost exhausted,---``I am the happiest man in the world!''

``Then, O my dear bairn,' said the good old dame, who lost no opportunity of teaching her lessons of religion at those moments when the heart was best open to receive it,---``Then O my son, give praise to Him that brings smiles out o tears and joy out o' grief, as he brought light out o' darkness, and the world out o' naething. Was it not my word, that if ye could say His will be done, ye might hae cause to say His name be praised?''

``It was---it was your word, grannie; and I do praise Him for His mercy, and for leaving me a good parent when my ain were gane,'' said honest Hobbie, taking her hand, ``that puts me in mind to think of Him, baith in happiness and distress.''

There was a solemn pause of one or two minutes employed in the exercise of mental devotion, which expressed, in purity and sincerity, the gratitude of the affectionate family to that Providence who had unexpectedly restored to their embraces the friend whom they had lost.

Hobbie's first inquiries were concerning the adventures which Grace had undergone. They were told at length, but amounted in substance to this:---That she was awaked by the noise which the ruffians made in breaking into the house, and by the resistance made by one or two of the servants, which was soon overpowered; that, dressing herself hastily, she ran down stairs, and having seen, in the scuffle, Westburnflat's vizard drop off, imprudently named him by his name, and besought him for mercy; that the ruffian instantly stopped her mouth, dragged her from the house, and placed her on horseback, behind one of his associates.

``I'll break the accursed neck of him,'' said Hobbie, ``if there werena another Grme in the land but himsell!''

She proceeded to say, that she was carried southward along with the party, and the spoil which they drove before them, until they had crossed the Border. Suddenly a person, known to her as a kinsman of Westburnflat, came riding very fast after the marauders, and told their leader, that his cousin had learnt from a sure hand that no luck would come of it, unless the lass was restored to her friends. After some discussion, the chief of the party seemed to acquiesce Grace was placed behind her new guardian, who pursued in silence, and with great speed, the least frequented path to the Heugh-foot, and ere evening closed, set down the fatigued and terrified damsel within a quarter of a mile of the dwelling of her friends. Many and sincere were the congratulations which passed on all sides.

As these emotions subsided, less pleasing considerations began to intrude themselves.

``This is a miserable place for ye a','' said Hobbie, looking around him; ``I can sleep weel eneugh mysell outby beside the naig, as I hae done mony a lang night on the hills; But how ye are to put yoursells up, I canna see! And what's waur, I canna mend it; and what's waur than a', the morn may come, and the day after that, without your being a bit better off.''

``It was a cowardly cruel thing,'' said one of the sisters, looking round, ``to harry a puir family to the bare wa's this gate.''

``And leave us neither stirk nor stot,'' said the youngest brother, who now entered, ``nor sheep nor lamb, nor aught that eats grass and corn.''

``If they had ony quarrel wi' us,' said Harry, the second brother, ``were we na ready to have fought it out? And that we should have been a frae hame too,---ane and a' upon the hill---Odd, an we had been at hame, Will Grme's stamach shouldna hae wanted its morning; but it's biding him, is it na, Hobbie?''

``Our neighbours hae taen a day at the Castleton to gree wi' him at the sight o' men,' said Hobbie, mournfully; ``they behoved to have it a their ain gate, or there was nae help to be got at their hands.''

``To gree wi' him!' exclaimed both his brothers at once, ``after siccan an act of stouthrife as hasna been heard o in the country since the auld riding days!''

``Very true, billies, and my blood was e'en boiling at it; but the sight o' Grace Armstrong has settled it brawly.''

``But the stocking, Hobbie?'' said John Elliot; ``we're utterly ruined. Harry and I hae been to gather what was on the outby land, and there's scarce a cloot left. I kenna how we're to carry on---We maun a' gang to the wars, I think. Westburnflat hasna the means, e'en if he had the will, to make up our loss; there's nae mends to be got out o' him, but what ye take out o' his banes. He hasna a four-footed creature but the vicious blood thing he rides on, and that's sair trashed wi' his night wark. We are ruined stoop and roop.''

Hobbie cast a mournful glance on Grace Armstrong, who returned it with a downcast look and a gentle sigh.

``Dinna be cast down, bairns,'' said the grandmother, ``we hae gude friends that winna forsake us in adversity. There's Sir Thomas Kittleloof is my third cousin by the mother's side, and he has come by a hantle siller, and been made a knight-baronet into the bargain, for being ane o' the commissioners at the Union.''

``He wadna gie a bodle to save us frae famishing,'' said Hobbie; ``and, if he did, the bread that I bought wi't would stick in my throat, when I thought it was part of the price of puir auld Scotland's crown and independence.''

``There's the Laird o' Dunder, ane o' the auldest families in Teviotdale.''

``He's in the tolbooth, mother---he's in the Heart of Mid-Louden for a thousand merk he borrowed from Saunders Wylie-coat the writer.''

``Poor man!'' exclaimed Mrs. Elliot, ``can we no send him something, Hobbie?''

``Ye forget, grannie, ye forget we want help oursells,'' said Hobbie, somewhat peevishly.

``Troth did I, hinny,'' replied the good-natured lady, ``just at the instant; it's sae natural to think on ane's blude relations before themsells.---But there's young Earnscliff.''

I perceive, with joy, my most valued friend, that the cloud of your displeasure has passed away; the light of your countenance blesses me once more, and you desire the continuation of my story: therefore, without more ado, you shall have it.       runescape gold        I think the day I last mentioned was a certain Sunday, the latest in the October of 1827. On the following Tuesday I was out with my dog and gun, in pursuit of such game as I could find within runescape gold farming  the territory of Linden-Car; but finding none at all, I turned my arms against the hawks and carrion crows, whose depredations, as I suspected, had deprived me of better prey. To this end I left the more frequented regions, the wooded valleys, the corn-fields, and the meadow-lands, and proceeded to mount the steep acclivity of Wildfell, the wildest and the loftiest eminence in our neighbourhood, where, as you ascend, the hedges, as well as the trees, become scanty and stunted, the former, at length, giving place to rough runescape power leveling    stone fences, partly greened over with ivy and moss, the latter to larches and Scotch fir-trees, or isolated blackthorns. The fields, being rough and stony, and wholly unfit for the plough, were mostly devoted to the posturing of sheep and cattle; the soil was thin and poor: bits of grey rock here and there peeped out from the grassy hillocks; bilberry-plants and heather - relics of more savage wildness - grew under the walls; and in many of the enclosures, ragweeds and rushes usurped supremacy over the scanty herbage; but these were not my property.

Near the top of this hill, about two miles from Linden-Car, stood Wildfell Hall, a superannuated mansion of the Elizabethan era, built of dark grey stone, venerable and picturesque to look at, but doubtless, cold and gloomy enough to inhabit, with its thick stone mullions and little latticed panes, its time-eaten air-holes, and its too lonely, too unsheltered situation, - only shielded from the war of wind and weather by a group of Scotch firs, themselves half blighted with storms, and looking as stern and gloomy as the Hall itself. Behind it lay a few desolate fields, and then the brown heath-clad summit of the hill; before it (enclosed by stone walls, and entered by an iron gate, with large balls of grey granite - similar to those which decorated the roof and gables - surmounting the gate-posts) was a garden, - once stocked with such hard plants and flowers as could best brook the soil and climate, and such trees and shrubs as could best endure the gardener's torturing shears, and most readily assume the shapes he chose to give them, - now, having been left so many years untilled and untrimmed, abandoned to the weeds and the grass, to the frost and the wind, the rain and the drought, it presented a very singular appearance indeed. The close green walls of privet, that had bordered the principal walk, were two-thirds withered away, and the rest grown beyond all reasonable bounds; the old boxwood swan, that sat beside the scraper, had lost its neck and half its body: the castellated towers of laurel in the middle of the garden, the gigantic warrior that stood on one side of the gateway, and the lion that guarded the other, were sprouted into such fantastic shapes as resembled nothing either in heaven or earth, or in the waters under the earth; but, to my young imagination, they presented all of them a goblinish appearance, that harmonised well with the ghostly legions and dark traditions our old nurse had told us respecting the haunted hall and its departed occupants.

I had succeeded in killing a hawk and two crows when I came within sight of the mansion; and then, relinquishing further depredations, I sauntered on, to have a look at the old place, and see what changes had been wrought in it by its new inhabitant. I did not like to go quite to the front and stare in at the gate; but I paused beside the garden wall, and looked, and saw no change - except in one wing, where the broken windows and dilapidated roof had evidently been repaired, and where a thin wreath of smoke was curling up from the stack of chimneys.

While I thus stood, leaning on my gun, and looking up at the dark gables, sunk in an idle reverie, weaving a tissue of wayward fancies, in which old associations and the fair young hermit, now within those walls, bore a nearly equal part, I heard a slight rustling and scrambling just within the garden; and, glancing in the direction whence the sound proceeded, I beheld a tiny hand elevated above the wall: it clung to the topmost stone, and then another little hand was raised to take a firmer hold, and then appeared a small white forehead, surmounted with wreaths of light brown hair, with a pair of deep blue eyes beneath, and the upper portion of a diminutive ivory nose.

The eyes did not notice me, but sparkled with glee on beholding Sancho, my beautiful black and white setter, that was coursing about the field with its muzzle to the ground. The little creature raised its face and called aloud to the dog. The good-natured animal paused, looked up, and wagged his tail, but made no further advances. The child (a little boy, apparently about five years old) scrambled up to the top of the wall, and called again and again; but finding this of no avail, apparently made up his mind, like Mahomet, to go to the mountain, since the mountain would not come to him, and attempted to get over; but a crabbed old cherry- tree, that grew hard by, caught him by the frock in one of its crooked scraggy arms that stretched over the wall. In attempting to disengage himself his foot slipped, and down he tumbled - but not to the earth; - the tree still kept him suspended. There was a silent struggle, and then a piercing shriek; - but, in an instant, I had dropped my gun on the grass, and caught the little fellow in my arms.

I wiped his eyes with his frock, told him he was all right and called Sancho to pacify him. He was just putting little hand on the dog's neck and beginning to smile through his tears, when I heard behind me a click of the iron gate, and a rustle of female garments, and lo! Mrs. Graham darted upon me - her neck uncovered, her black locks streaming in the wind.

'Give me the child!' she said, in a voice scarce louder than a whisper, but with a tone of startling vehemence, and, seizing the boy, she snatched him from me, as if some dire contamination were in my touch, and then stood with one hand firmly clasping his, the other on his shoulder, fixing upon me her large, luminous dark eyes - pale, breathless, quivering with agitation.

'I was not harming the child, madam,' said I, scarce knowing whether to be most astonished or displeased; 'he was tumbling off the wall there; and I was so fortunate as to catch him, while he hung suspended headlong from that tree, and prevent I know not what catastrophe.'

'I beg your pardon, sir,' stammered she; - suddenly calming down, - the light of reason seeming to break upon her beclouded spirit, and a faint blush mantling on her cheek - 'I did not know you; - and I thought - '

She stooped to kiss the child, and fondly clasped her arm round his neck.

'You thought I was going to kidnap your son, I suppose?'

She stroked his head with a half-embarrassed laugh, and replied, - 'I did not know he had attempted to climb the wall. - I have the pleasure of addressing Mr. Markham, I believe?' she added, somewhat abruptly.

I bowed, but ventured to ask how she knew me.

'Your sister called here, a few days ago, with Mrs. Markham.'

'Is the resemblance so strong then?' I asked, in some surprise, and not so greatly flattered at the idea as I ought to have been.

'There is a likeness about the eyes and complexion I think,' replied she, somewhat dubiously surveying my face; - 'and I think I saw you at church on Sunday.'