monte. I have just returned from an interview with Thomas's father. Mr. Griswold has been obliged to make an assignment. Thomas yesterday sent this note to me. There; you may read it.”

When she had finished the reading, looking up with a smile, she said:

"Is that all, dear father? You have enough for both."

"No, Clara, not all. Thomas is too proud to accept Clara Edgemonte's hand for the purpose of living upon her bounty."

Clara turned her gaze from her father's face, and a thoughtful, and gradually-growing sorrowful expression spread over her face.

"I have already made the offer to Mr. Griswold to assist him out of his difficulties. The principal cause of his ruin is the New York Catfish Railroad Company. All the old stockholders have been allowed to come in for double stock, by paying fifty for one hundred of stock. I shall secure Mr. Griswold's venture by taking $100,000 of the new stock. This he consents to my doing. Eventually it will put him on his feet. I am not so fortunate with Thomas. He says you must settle the question, 'will you wait his wish?' What says my Clara?"

"Yes, ten years, and will go write him to that effect now."

"Go, Clara, go. I am proud of you."

XXII.

A sail on Cayuga Lake before Breakfast-Thermometer thirty degrees below Zero-Two Miles a Minute under a fair Wind-Bell Mortimer takes an Observation-The Surprise not a Surprise-The Race Home-The Ice-boat too much for the Horses-The Runaway-The Rescue-Love told without Words-Death cheated of his Prey.

THE reader will please retrace his steps in the order of time, to the last week in December, during George Melville's senior year at college. Hill, mountain and dale of western New York were 66 clad in robes of fleecy white." The inventions of Fahrenheit read twenty, twenty-five, and even thirty degrees below zero, from day to day. King Eolus had opened his bag, and let loose the howling blasts. Tree, shrub, and bush had close-reefed all their sails, mindful of the season. Nature was not caught unprepared. Like a watchful mariner, she presented bare poles to the gale.

"This is a biting cold morning, Tam," said Melville, as they issued together, from their room, to obtain a morning repast.

"Yes, indeed," responded Griswold, buttoning his shaggy overcoat more closely around his chin, and burying his head within the soft fur of his coat-collar.

"My mouth is, literally speaking, a chattering-box, Tam."

"Yes; I hear the teeth rattle. You would do the old song, 'Shivery, shivery, ho, ho, ho! the man that couldn't get warm,' to perfection."

Breakfast over, Melville, valise in hand, might have been seen walking rapidly towards Clinton village. He obtains a horse and cutter. Crack goes the whip. "Tam, write to me from New York. Good-bye." In an hour's time, Melville was at the Utica dépôt, waiting for the eastern train going West. The time for its arrival had already passed.

"Two hours behind time, as I'm alive!" said Melville, looking at his watch.

"Yes, sir; and it will be two more before the train comes. It is snowed in between here and Schenectady," said a railroad official, with whom Melville was on intimate terms.

At three o'clock, P.M., the train came along. Two locomotives were attached to it, dragging but three cars. The locomotives were covered with icicles, and hard packed snow, an ocular proof of the struggle they had gone through with against time. Time, with his cohorts of ice, snow and frost, had beaten the iron horses by four hours, in the race from Schenectady to Utica.

"At last I am aboard," said Melville, getting as close to the car stove as his fellow-passengers would allow. At every five or ten miles, sometimes more frequently, the train was obliged to halt, and all hands turn to and fight the mountain snow drifts with shovel and scoop. Many of the passengers voluntarily assisted in the labor, although always against the wishes of the railroad officials.

"Whoa! Safe at last!" and Melville drew a long

breath, stretching out his almost frozen limbs, and throwing his hands back and forth rapidly against his shoulders.

"Shall I take your horse, sir?" said a boy.

"Yes, put him out; have him well rubbed down immediately. Put on his blanket, and let him stand without eating," responded Melville.

In a few moments he was warming himself by the genial fire of mine host of the Aurora House.

"What time do you have tea, sir?" inquired Melville.

"In about an hour."

"Very well, sir. Put down a plate for me, and give me a room, with a good fire." Then, taking his hat, he went to the barn to see his horse.

"Boy! how goes the horse?"

"Fine, shure, yer honor."

"Have you rubbed him down?"

"Be jabers! an' I hev', sir."

"Well, then, here is a quarter for you."

"Thank ye. Shure an' I'll rub him agin if ye spake the word.”

"No; he will do now. Do you know Mr. Frederick Mortimer ?"

"Yis; an' he's the finest gintleman in 'Rory, barrin' his father and Misthress Bell."

Taking a card from his pocket, Melville handed it to the boy, with a smile at his ideas of a fine gentleman in the person of the lovely Bell Mortimer. "Take that card and give it to him. Say the tleman who sent it is at the Aurora Hotel.”

"Yis, sir."

gen

Just as the supper bell was sounded, Frederick Mortimer entered the hotel.

"Good! I waited at Auburn yesterday for you over five hours," said Fred. "Business called me home, or I should have remained until to day. Bell is not at home. She is at her aunt's, about six miles south from here. We will try and catch her at Aunt Huldah's, taking breakfast. To do it, you must rise at just a quarter to six. They breakfast at seven. Aunt Huldah is a well-regulated clock. You can always tell the time of day by her daily meals.” "Does Bell know anything about my visit," said Melville.

"Oh, yes! but she is a queer specimen of womankind; does just as she chooses. When I told her that you had deigned to accept my invitation and spend the holidays with me, she gave a regular round of applause; clapped her hands magnificently, and made believe give me a kiss. I wouldn't put up with that as a finale, and so placed my arm in position and stole the reality. There,' said she, 'Mr. Impudence! for that error of poor human nature I shall go and make Aunt Huldah a visit, and spend a week. You have issued orders without a council of war, and now, please, attend to the wants of the new recruit yourself." True to her word, she had her little pony put before her cutter, and left an hour before I awoke yesterday morning."

"Capital!" said Melville. "Let us have the morning ride by all means. We will make her a call, but positively set our faces against her coming to Aurora to interfere with our bachelor living."

"We must not allow her to mourn for our absence, though," said Fred. "She has run away, 'tis true; but she is pretty familiar with her brother's inability to get along well without her. Now for our quar