it was not easy for Cynthia to express her feelings, and now she had found it very difficult to speak of the gratitude and affection which she felt. But they understood-dear, good people that the

spent their last day

of the family standing on the damp platform of the station. As they fled northward through the flat river-meadows, the conductor would have liked to talk to her of Mr. Merrill; there were few employees on any railroad who did not know the genial and kindly president of the Grand Gulf and sympathize with his troubles. B

thia recognized the place, though it was cold and bare and very different in appearance from what it had been on the summer's evening when she had come into it with her father. That, in effect, had been her first glimpse

nge interest in this young lady who had such a face and such eyes. He pointed her out to his friend the Truro conductor, and

id not remember then the sweeter aspect of the old town, its pretty homes set among their shaded gardens-homes full of good and kindly people. State House affairs were far removed from most of these, and the sickness and corruption of the

h the seasons passed over them, hot and cold, wet and dry. They were immutable in their goodness. Presently she saw them, the lower ones: the waters of the little stream beside her broke the black

in the valley nooks, banked with whiter snow; through the narrow gorges,-sometimes hanging ov

the green clumps of spruces against the snow. Some vague longing for such a refuge was in Cynthia's heart as she gazed upon that silent place, and then the waters had already begun to run westward-the waters of Tumble Down brook, which flowed into Coniston Water above Brampton. The sun still had more than two hours to go on its journey to the hill crests when th

therell!" he crie

ady of a type he had never before seen. He meant to say that, too, in his own way, but he couldn't. And that transformation would have bothered Lem but little. What was the change, then? Why was he in

, "I am so glad

lood. After the trunk he deposited, apparently with equal ease, various barrels and boxes, and then he jumped in beside Cynthia, and they drove down familiar Brampton Street, as wide as a wide river; past the meeting-house with the terraced steeple; past the postoffice,-Cousin Ephraim's postoffice,-where Lem g

here and there for team to pass team. Well-remembered scene! How often had Cynthia looked upon it in happier days! Such a crust was on the snow as would bear a heavy man; and the pasture hillo

in subtle harmony with that of the girl at his side. What that sorrow was he could not guess. The good man yearned to comfort her, and yet he felt his comfort too humble to be noticed by such sorrow. He longed to speak, but for the first time in his life feared the soun

be the sound of his voice-after such an age of disuse? Could he speak at all? Broken and hoarse and hideous thou

be surprised to

at all. Yes, he had,

e they wi

ack, Cynthy. We think a si

k you

okin' for you by

ose he had not been at home! She had never once tho

t, so long benumbed, quickened when she saw it. How write of the sharpness of that pain to those who have never known it? The sight of every gable brought its agony,-the store with the checker-paned windows, the harness shop, the meeting-house, the white parsonage on its little hill. Rias Richa

rd, it's

ethro?" de

r at once. She was

choppin' wood." But still she kept her

thia, "I'll go

with her mouth open, too amazed to

lmost six and thirty years before? Would he remember how that ot

nd love suddenly welled up into her heart as waters into a spring after a drought. He had not seen her, not heard the sound of the sleigh-bells. He was standing with his foot upon the sawbuck and the saw across his knee, he was staring at the w

she knew not whether she would have fled or rushed into his arms. How long she stood thus, and he stood, may not be said

nth

lace in the year gone by. And yet not so. Now he clung to her with a desperation that was terrible, as though to let go of her would be to fall into namel

grew all the greater because he needed it. Yet she knew that no subterfuge or pretence would avail her

sed no surprise at her appearance, asked no reasons for it. Superlatives of suffering or joy or courage

y something-something happened. I c

nod

e to you. I c

dded

white-hot iron and sear herself

" he

nd he turned and went to the door, where he stood with his back to her, silhouetted against the eastern sky all pink from the reflection

the Newcastle Guardian a

id. But he d

had gained your power," she went on, her pain lendi

id, and still stare

rms outstretched, her fingers openin

-until-unless you tell me. Uncle Jethro," she cried in ago

. There was no sound, save the song of

e whispered. "Won't you tel

to this priceless treasure he had lost? Once before he had cast it away, though without meaning to. Then he did not know the eternal value of love-of such love as those two women had g

l me that they

Curious to relate, though his heart was breaking,

ciples of good people. I-I knowed the day would come when you'd ask, but I wanted to be happy as long as I could. I hain't been happy, Cynthy. But you was right when you said I'd tell you the truth. S-so I wil

nd though he knew it not, he spoke through Cynthia to his Maker, confessing his faults freely and humbly, and dwelling on the justness of his punishment; putting not forward any good he may have done; nor thinking of it; nor seeking excuse because of

and gained, and paid the price without a murmur, seeking no palliation. Cynthia had not come to that trial-so bitter for her-as a judge. If the reader has seen youth and innocence sitting in the seat of justice, with age and experience at the bar, he has mista

ilently to his side and slipped her hand i

he said in a low

trembled more

that-I-I don't expect it, Cynthy, I know you can't

love you better than I have

believed. Yes, he believed, though it seemed a thing beyond belief. Unworthy, unfit though he were, she loved him. And his own love as he gazed at her, sevenfold increased as it had been

me?" she cried, "can't

with that new and strange reverence in his face. He

t border of yellow light betrayed the ragged outlines of

not think about it: she did not know that, in her absence, the fire had not been lighted in the evening, Jethro supping on crackers and milk and Milly partaking of the evening meal at home. Moreover, Miss Skinner had an engagement with a young man. Cynthia saw the fire, and threw off her sealskin coat which Mr. and Mrs. Merrill ha

oin', Cynthy?"

eference. Though deference is not usually vehem

e matter?" exclaimed C

y cookin', that's all," said

helped," said C

to have to put the reasons for that

, "because you hain't

e girl with a little, sad smile of comprehension and a

pened-Millicent burst into tears-w

d, her words interspersed with violent sobs.

ey were not words of reproof. She took a little lamp from the shelf, and went up the n

he reasons for her sudden appearance, and such news of her Boston experiences as she might choose to give them. They had learned from Lem Hallowell that Cynthia had returned a lady: a real lady, not a sham one who relied on airs and graces, such as had come to Coniston the summer before to look for a summer place on the painter's recommen

Moses had hauled so many thousand feet of lumber to Brampton; Sam Price's woman (she of Harwich) had had a spell of sciatica; Chester Perkins's bull had tossed his brother-in-law, come from Iowy on a visit, and broke his leg; yes, Amandy

s were simple enough. Not her manner, which was as kind and sweet as ever. What was it that compelled their talk about themselves, that made them refrain from asking those questions about Boston, and why she had co

thought his hair a little thinner and the lines in his face a little deeper. And Mr. Satterlee thought perhaps he was the only one of

learning, Cynt

thing at last. An intuition impelled Cynt

e," she said, "that I have come back to try to

a good woman make to ease the burden of those whom she loves! And Jethro's burden would be heavy enough. Su

Cynthia," said Mr. Satterlee, gravely; "that you wou

oston, and I-I was not happy so far away from you all-from Uncle Jethro. Mr. Satterlee, I a

bounty? Though by reason of that bounty she was what she was, she could not live and thrive on it longer, coming as it did from such a source. Mr. Satterlee migh

ver was a more retiring man. The years she had spent in his study had not gone for nothing, for he who has cherished the bud can predict what the flower will be, and Mr. Satterlee knew her spiritually better than any one else in Coniston. He had heard of her return, and had walked over to the tannery house, f

ds of the young." Mr. Satterlee was often a little discursive, though there was reason for it on this occasion, and Moses Hatch half closed his eyes and bowed his head a little out of sheer habit at the sound of the minister's voice. But he raised it suddenly at the n

the habit of years was so str

and hoped for it, because it is near enough for me to spend the Saturdays and Su

I have business in Brampton to-morrow." He

h the bars at the dying embers in the stove. He knew now, and it was inevitable that he should know, what she had made up her mind to do. It had been

state by those very practices? Cynthia hated Mr. Worthington. The term is not too strong, and it expresses her feeling. But she would have got down on her knees on the board floor of the kitchen that very night and implored Jethro to desist from that contest, if she could. She remembered how, in her innocence,

self on her knees, if she could. But she could not. Perhaps he would abandon that struggle. Perhaps-perhaps his heart was broken. And cou

nthy," he said; "m-must be

e forehead. It was thus that Je