She vilified the vices of the vicinage. It was wonderfully clever of her to know all about the vices of the vicinage-but some young ladies are wonderfully clever.

On a day in the month of May when the spring came slowly up that way, and the boughs began to swing and sway, and the larks were mad, and the linnets gay, and the sky was a strange divine blue and gray, it chanced that Louisa making way to some old pensioner grim and gray, who would soon be about five feet of clay, met our young friend Silvester astray, in search of amusement I dare say.

Now an introduction was not necessary, because the Rector had brought his niece to see the Squire, only Silvester chanced not to be at home. Louisa drooped her eyelids. Silvester blushed. They looked at each other in that decisive way which means mischief or marriage. Silvester was a tall fellow for his age; had run up a little too fast, would be as

strong as Herakles in a year or two, and as handsome as Apollo. Louisa was rather less rapid in her physical movement, plumper, more decidedly a young woman.

Well, in Nightingale Lane, where came the earliest violets, these two young folk had a talk. Shall it be repeated?

SILVESTER. I am so sorry I did not see you when you called, Miss Saint Osyth. I hope you like this part of the world.

LOUISA.—It seems delightful. There never was a more charming village than Silchester. Don't you consider yourself very fortunate to live here?

SILVESTER. I have always found myself fortunate. What greater good fortune could I have than to meet you this morning?

I

LOUISA. You are given to flattery. know very well what I am, and I cannot place myself beside one of Shakespeare's creations.

SILVESTER.-Then I will place you there.

You deserve to be placed on a pedestal, if only for making your uncle's sermons.

LOUISA. Pray how did you know they were mine?

SILVESTER.-Well, clearly they were not his, and I do not think his old butler could have produced those sharp satiric sermonettes. No, my dear Miss Louisa, I think I must put these wickednesses down to you. I'll forgive you,

on one condition.

LOUISA. What is it?

SILVESTER.-Marry me.
LOUISA.-To-day?

SILVESTER. Not necessarily; but when a girl has said Yes, she is married. You are my wife from this moment, Louisa, if you say yes.

LOUISA. I say yes, my dear love . . . and I am yours always. But the Squire will say you're very young.

SILVESTER. Do you think I'm afraid of the Squire? It's impossible to be afraid of him, and impossible not to love him.

LOUISA. Then I, who have lost a father, shall have another father.

SILVESTER. You will, my darling. I am not in the least afraid of what my father will say on the subject. I am amused in conjecture. He will probably think you are too good for me, too wise, too instructed, which indeed you Fancy! You are the cleverest girl in Devon, and I can neither read nor write!

are.

LOUISA. Neither read nor write! How very odd! But this is a world in which reading and writing are not indispensable.

SILVESTER. Having never learnt my alphabet, I rejoice to hear you say so. But are you disposed to take charge of a poor fellow who has never learnt his alphabet, and to write letters for him and keep his accounts?

LOUISA. It requires consideration, no doubt; but then unluckily I have already said yes. You were in such a hurry, you know. You were puer somno devinctus. Had you not better retrace your steps and let us think over the matter?

VOL. I.

9

SILVESTER.-Too late, child.

In love, we

Silchesters have always been prompt. I should regret to belie my race. You may be puella excincta, by-and-by. You will remark that I know something of Latin, though I do not deign to read it.

LOUISA. I shall teach you. I shall be your governess, and make you learn under penal conditions. You will find me a very harsh and stern task- mistress. And now

there is another matter on which I require information. Are you a sound Churchman?

SILVESTER.-Not too sound. That would be a pity.

LOUISA.-Why?

SILVESTER. Because one's wife ought to have something to teach one. Now you will have a lot of things to teach me-among them the alphabet and theology. I fear my father is slightly heterodox, so I can hardly expect, without instruction, to be up to your mark. You