"Yes, it has, Mr. Harden, often, and I remember it occurred to me when I first heard" She stopped; she was confessing too much.

the change would indeed

His voice faltered; he looked up to my Aunt: their eyes met and were instantly cast down again. They fell on a rose-bush which stood before them. On that bush were two full grown roses which decay had slightly touched; but just beneath grew three little fresh-looking buds. 'T was better than a whole chapter on love. My Aunt blushed, and on the end of my Uncle's nose appeared a small red spot, which grew till it covered his whole face. This could not last. My Uncle Thomas moved nearer to my Aunt and took her hand in his: a large tear gathered in my Aunt's right eye, and fell on, and trickled in between, their clasped hands. He drew a long breath there was the symptom of a sigh, but he manfully suppressed it. Their faces approached each other-pshaw! 'twould be folly to tell more: those who are married know all about it, and those who are not, should not have this knowledge till they get it experimentally.

The setting sun filled the whole grove with a golden light; the leaves fluttered scarce audibly, and many birds made music on the air. When my Uncle and Aunt walked homeward, hand in hand, a Bobo' Link poured forth his merry song.

I had not seen my Aunt since her wedding day, and felt some curiosity to learn how she ruled her household. I rode toward the house from the north it seemed, from this point of view, strangely altered; and still more so, when, following the road which wound around the hill in

:

front, I came near it on the southerly side. The house, when I last saw it, had form and comeliness; but two additions to the original structure, one on the southerly side of the front and the other on the northerly side of the rear, now made the ground plan of it not unlike the letter Z. Aunt Mary appeared at the door as I dismounted followed by her young ones, two healthy roguish looking boys and a beautiful little girl of about four years. After the usual friendly questions and replies, I looked out at the window. "You have a fine prospect here, Aunt: this slope in front, the level meadow broken only by that clump of trees, threaded by that silver stream, and bounded by the forest on the opposite side, make as pretty a view as one could desire."

"Yes," she replied, "that clump of trees reminds me often of former days: sometimes, by way of joke, I tell your Uncle it should be named, Confession Grove." In cheerful chat, which there is no need to record here, a half hour passed away. The children, at first somewhat restrained by my presence, grew noisy; and my Aunt, calling to the eldest, said, "Thomas do you want to go out with Ludo and Mary?" The boy gave affirmative answer and they were soon away.

"I keep the children out of doors great part of the day in fair weather: it makes them healthy and I think they enjoy themselves better than when cooped up in the house."

I laughed, and told her she had not changed much since her marriage.

"No," she replied, "I was too old for that. Husband says that the children have their own way too often; but he is partly mistaken; I rule them in an indirect way,

more than he thinks.

There he comes, good soul; I am

afraid he has walked too far this hot day."

him a

She drew an arm-chair from the corner and gave thin coat, at the outer door, as he entered. Presently one of the children came in crying followed by the others. Tom had thrown sand in his eyes, he said.

"That boy is always in mischief:" said the father: "Why do you do such things, Thomas?"

"I don't think the boy meant to do it;" said my Aunt. "Come here, my son," she got a wet cloth and washed his eyes, talking the while :

"How was it, Ludo, did you throw any thing at your brother? don't cry.”

No," said the sobbing boy, we were playing and he threw the dirt right into my face." Here Thomas broke in with his story. The mother soon pacified them and asked little Mary how it was. It appeared that both were in the wrong. It was one of those childish affairs begun in sport, ending in earnest; of common Occurrence. Aunt Mary contrived a little errand for the oldest boy when he returned the little quarrel was forgotten and the brothers were on good terms again. During the boy's absence my Aunt had seated herself near her husband, and they spoke together in an under tone. Some hasty expressions escaped him from which I inferred some matter in dispute between them. She rested her arm on the back of his chair and gently moved her fingers among his gray hairs. "Well, well," said he smiling, "I suppose you must have your way as you always do."

The day passed pleasantly over, and, toward night I returned to Pebblebrook musing much, on the way, of

I fell into a reverie,

and

the worth of a good nature. images of things in varied procession passed through my mind. My cheerless home with its money paid housekeeper; a lighted hall filled with wax-figures; a young woman with a torn dress, flitted along; and at last a schoolmaster, who annoyed me not a little,

CHAPTER VI.

THREE GREAT MEN.

WHEN one, after long absence, returns to his natal village, he finds it the same and yet not the same. Many new life-threads have mysteriously run into the web of the Visable, many old ones have broken and fallen out. The wondrous fabric has widened, and, in some degree, changed color; yet one sees that the stuff is mostly the same. In reflective mood one asks whence comes all this, whither goes it? In such mood one turns to the memorials of the Departed and questions the place of skulls. The sphere of action for the living man is surely in the midst of Life; yet the grave-stones of the dead have doubtless a stern lesson for him who will read it. The gift of the living to the dead one is always a stone, were it an urn for his ashes or a tablet to his memory. What more can we give him? The sum of his life is reckoned up, and the account given in; it is finished, it is done. Truly the Present can do nothing for the Past; but for the Future, how much! And yet perhaps it is not well to consider this too closely. Thought makes action difficult; one gets troubled in consideration of consequences, and the most persevering searcher after causes must too often stand, Bruce-like, at the source of