As it was, they had not taken three turns backward and forward in the clearing, before Lotty's hand opened communication with Herbert's; though how I cannot tell, except that her fingers shrank and fluttered in his. They replied by a warm, strong grasp, but Lotty's fingers only shrank the more, and fluttered the more, and a living current of cold trembled through them. Already they had communicated enough to create anxiety and surprise. So the young man brought the pacing up and down to a sudden conclusion, and turned our little maid's face

towards him, and looked fair and steadfast into her eyes, that swam, and flickered, and glowed amidst their two tears, like the sun's reflection in the sea. By that time the young man knew pretty well all about it.

However, he said nothing at present, but releasing her head, which he had held between his two strong hands while he regarded her, turned about and sauntered on a little before her in silence. For, in fact, he was shocked, and even angry. Twenty years at least had he lived in the world, and not once had he been thwarted in any desire (for reasons that will afterwards appear), hardly in any expectation. With regard to this affair, he had looked on its difficulties as the romance of it; anticipating no more than that they should give it zest. And though he by no means lacked generosity, he could not help thinking to himself that if he made light of the obstacles that lay between them, Lotty could scarcely be sincere in doing otherwise. It was this reflection that made him angry; but with the thought his anger passed away. Then it occurred to him that Charlotte might have observed his impatience, and that it distressed her. So he desisted from

Scourging the grass with his stick, and turned to look kindly at her. No, she was not distressed-rather worse; for all her emotions were at war together in her heart, and not one was left to give life to her face. It was pitifully pale and passionless, and her eyes, that saw not, were addressed to the ground.

Herbert was not the man to stand this. His countenance burst into a flame at least half pale tenderness, though the other half was red anger, and he cried, "Charlotte!" in a reproachful tone.

"Dear Herbert!" said she, still timidly, and clasping both her hands round his arm while she looked up to him; "I have thought about it ever since, and it cannot be !"

"Nonsense, my dear!"

"Ah no, but it cannot, indeed!"

"Tell me why, then."

"Oh, so many, many things! But you know what you promised. You said, if I would think it well over for two days, and meet you here, you would let me give a woman's answer, yes or no, without reason why.”

And here she smiled-to please him, but the smile had not that effect.

"Yes, yes," said he, "that would have been all very well if you had said yes. I never dreamed Didn't you know you were expected to say yes?"

"I knew you wished me to say so,"

Ah! that wistful, miserable look! I have seen such an one when a child has been stood in a corner and forbidden to approach baby for a punishment. It had such an unreasonable effect on the young man that he laughed a low, triumphant laugh, with a touch of the crowing of a cock in it, and fairly hugged our little

maid.

All this while, Miss Dacre was perusing the "Christian Year," in which work there are many beautiful, soothing little pieces.

"Now, Charlotte," said her lover, while she adjusted the pretty bonnet-a work which she never seemed able to accomplish without opening her mouth somewhat "now, Charlotte, confess."

"What, Herbert ?"

"That you weep and cry 'No,' like other foolish little brides, only because the moment has come for the irrevocable Yes'?"

He looked so sure of his answer this time, that Lotty's heart sank within her, and she was afraid. And all the more because behind the bright, earnest glance that lighted on her face, she beheld a certain expression that had vaguely troubled her before, and his mother too, and Miss Dacre a little.

But Lotty had a stupid, honest heart, with no invention, and no tact. She could not hide her affliction at this tone, nor find him any new answer; but, very seriously and solemnly, she said—

"Herbert, don't let us deceive ourselves. Don't let us talk any more about it. I thought it wise of you when you said I might give you an answer without why or wherefore; for what is the use of debating them when-when we are together? You know what the reasons are. You know-(sob)—I'm sure, dear Herbert, I'm almost as willing as you to disregard them. But suppose we did disregard them, what would happen? Who knows what would happen?"

"Happiness, Lotty."

"For a little time-for a long time, perhaps, But your mamma, you love her

too; and how dreadfully disappointed, how dreadfully angry she would be! And then your papa-all your friends—your cousin, Miss Dacre!"

What has she to do with it?"

And then, my father. He would be 'Here have I, and my family before

"To Jericho with my cousin, Miss Dacre! "Well, it would be awkward, Herbert. as angry as Lady Grovelly. He would say, me, been growing rich as tenants on this estate for more than a hundred years. My grandfather was once little better than a labourer on it. Now what does this forward creature mean by-by-' "

"Taking such a liberty?" suggested her lover, bitterly.

"Well, my dear, something like that! He might feel it as a disgrace-and be not the less anxious for my happiness either!"

"I don't understand, Charlotte."

"We might both suffer. There is much danger of your being disappointed in me-many chances of your being sorry and ashamed of having married me, when you grow older, and mix in society more; and-we might both suffer!"

She shook her head, continued to look down, and to swing her foot over the grass, and said no more. Herbert stood silent too. At length he gently said—

"Well, dear Lotty, I see what you mean. You think we had better bother no more about this affair at present; better forget it; better wait-though, for my own part, I had as soon hang myself!-and hope, and meet as before."

"That will be almost as bad, won't it?" faltered our little maid—not so sure of her ground now, but striving bravely to keep firm and upright. Herbert appeared astonished.

"Why, what does this mean, Charlotte?" said he.

"I think-(sob)—I think we had better not meet again, as before. I came determined to say good-bye!"

Herbert, bethinking himself a moment, replied cruelly, and with that troubling air about him, which, however, Lotty did not see.

"Ah!" he said, "I perceive how it is. While for love of you I am ready to meet all risks without question, for love of me you have set them all down on paper, added them up, multiplied them by five-[a strange, savage, humorous look about him now; and no wonder, for five little children present themselves before his mind]—and, finding they do not balance with other chances, you decline the venture! Very well!"

And thereupon the young man wheeled about, and sauntered up the plantation --not in the direction of Brierly House, but in Lotty's way home. By this she knew he was not downright disgusted and done with her; and that gave a little ease to her heart, otherwise ready to break. The little simpleton! He paused. He sauntered back a little way. the road, Charlotte ?" he cried.

"Shall I see you through into

A simpleton, indeed! She said, "Thank you, Herbert !" advanced and took his arm, and even smiled at him, as much as to say, "And now it's over, and all's for the best." Whether that was the view he took of it remains to be seen.

What more passed between them I do not know; but they lingered long by the gate which led out of the plantation. Sometimes they seemed to speak earnestlyonce he had both her hands in his, and they parted not without tenderness.

The sun has set, the dark has fallen. Good night! The lovers have gone their several ways, and Miss Dacre, closing her little book, sails elegantly home.

THE DOMESTIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

ANCIENT BRITONS AND ANGLO-SAXONS.

"Old custom made this life more sweet

Than that of painted pomp."

THE inventions, the conveniences, the privileges, and the wonders of this boasted-nor unwisely, or without reason be-praised-nineteenth century, are so rapid, so wonderful, and so various, that few amongst us sufficiently contemplate or remember how very gradual has been the growth and development of that civilization with which we are surrounded, and from which we derive so many incalculable advantages. The folly of overlooking or forgetting the steps by which any nation, and particularly a great nation like ours, has risen from obscurity to the highest pinnacle of earthly glory, is, however, self-evident; and we believe that so great an oversight arises, in most instances, rather from want of thought than from any wilful determination to ignore or forget the deep debt of gratitude which we owe to our forefathers, for their inventions and their industry, from which we are reaping so large and abundant a harvest.

Cooks.

(From the Bayeux Tapestry-1035.)

The old boast of the ballad-maker, and his gibes at Parliamentary proceedings, are not so senseless as may, at first sight, appear; for, as Burke says, "Manners are of more importance than laws, as upon them, in a great measure, the laws depend." Happily, the history of "common things" is assuming a proper importance, and the chronicling of every

day events growing a more, and still more, important work; nor can we imagine a subject fraught with deeper interest to the women of England than an examination of the domestic history of their own country.

SERVANTS CARRYING UP THE DINNER. (From the Bayeux Tapestry.)

If we wander, in imagination, to the days-not before the flood, but before the descent of the Romans, or the appearance of the Saxons, we shall behold our most rightly-denominated "rude forefathers," grimly tattooed, stained with woad, dwelling in dens and caves, and contented to take for food the green herb whose seed was in itself. How different, even from these men, were the brave warriors who opposed the landing of Cæsar, whose bodies, if only covered with skins of beasts (worn with the fur inward), were, at least, no longer disfigured and

unclothed, and whose homes-though, as yet, merely osier defences, interlaced with boughs, and daubed with untempered mortar, and in shape very strongly resembling tea-canisters (the part where the lid shuts being left open, to allow the smoke to pass out) were yet a very great advance upon the hiding-holes of former generations. Beasts that had been killed in the chase began, also, to serve for food, while acorns, wild berries, and roots proved accessories to, instead of forming the principal feature of, their meals.

When we remember that, at the time when the Romans first invaded Britain, the country was full of bogs and marshes, and covered with innumerable forests, we shall not be surprised to learn that they had nothing answering to the Roman, or our own, ideas of a city or town. Indeed, Cæsar expressly says that what the Britons call a town was a tract of woody country, surrounded by a vallum (or high bank) and a ditch, for the security of themselves and cattle against the incursions of their enemies; and Strabo tells us that the forests of the Britons

were their cities, for, when they had inclosed a very large circuit with felled trees, they built within it houses for themselves and hovels for their cattle. These buildings were very slight, and not designed for long duration.

How the Romans felled forests, drained the fens, built bridges and walls, and made splendid roads right across the country, is a matter of history too well known to need any comment; sufficient for us to remember that these works wrought great physical as well as social changes in the country, and paved the way for the introduction of pasturage and agriculture.

All that we know of the rough manner in which the hovels of the Britons were furnished, is derived from some of their earlier coins, where we find the interior of habitations furnished with seats resembling our modern chairs, stools like the crickets of our peasantry, and others composed of round blocks of wood, while upon the walls are ranged the arms of the warriors.

By this time it is probable that the house was built with large stones, laid on each other without mortar. The upper rooms only were lighted by windows.