"And now, Marie, he said, it rests with you to be frank, quite frank on this subject. Early after your arrival in England I began to fear-I may say to dread painfully-that the engagement which did me so much honour was distasteful to you. I proposed to myself to think the matter over carefully; yesterday, you know, I came to the conclusion that it would be better, however painful, to consult you, and therefore I requested this interview. I cannot conceal from you that I, too, am compelled unwillingly to admit that there is a dissimilarity in our tastes, occupations, and opinions, which would, I fear, militate against that harmony which should always be the ruling spirit in a household. My meditations brought me to this, Marie:-I will not put any restraint or force on any one's inclinations; indeed, under the circumstances, which have transpired since I requested this interview your promise can no longer be considered binding; and, I say it with deep and painful feeling, I fear the fulfilment of it would not conduce to your happiness -or mine. Having said so much, will you give me your opinion; or, I may say your decision?" Marie hesitated a moment; then, still grasp ing the chair-back, she said, firmly, "I fully agree with all that you have said, Sir Miles." The baronet bowed low. "Then I am to consider that the engagement no longer exists?" he suggested. Marie raised her head, and looked at him for the first time, frankly and gratefully. "Thank you, Sir Miles.' A shade of real sadness passed across the baronet's face. "It is possible that I may never form the ties once contemplated with so much gratification," he said. "I am now no longer young. But I need not trouble you uselessly. Marie," said Sir Miles, taking the hand which still rested on the table, "I hope you will find one more worthy of you. I trust you will be very happy. I do not dissemble my disappointment; it is a very great one, but I can freely hope for your happiness. In the meantime, you will not forget that I am your guardian; and, though the relations between us are changed, this house is your home for the present. I think you will not pain me on this subject." It is doubtful whether Marie had ever felt so kindly towards Sir Miles as she did at that moment, or whether she would ever have felt so had the relations not been changed between them. Tears were in her eyes as she suffered him to touch her hand with his lips; and long after he had regained his usual rigidity of demeanour, she thought about him and pitied him. "And now," said Sir Miles, "you will scarcely be surprised to hear that your cousin is anxious to see you. We shall, of course, be happy to receive him as an honoured guest, but it might, I think, be less embarrassing if you saw him alone for the first time: indeed, he hinted as much through Spencer; but of course you are the proper person to decide that. My message to him named six o'clock; but I believe he has anticipated, since I heard a ring at the doorbell a few minutes since. What do you say? I had better send him here, perhaps." What Marie would have said is no matter, since Sir Miles did not wait for an answer; and we have no busines to pry into a meeting which certainly lasted longer than the few minutes suggested by the baronet, and which, besides, was only interesting to the persons concerned. One speech of Marie's, however, it is fair to record, as it shows how she suffered her compassion to overpower her sense of justice, or, rather, of right feeling. "I am so sorry for him!" said Marie. "So sorry, that, do you know, Harry, though it is so dreadfully wrong to be so disappointed about money, if I could pick up an heiress for him, I would." And Harry, laughing, promised to apply to Burford, to whom he owed everything, and who, he did believe, knew everything and everybody. We must have one more look at Sir Miles, and then we have done. The baronet was in his library, standing before the window. The winter was over, and the trees in the park were full of beauty; but he was not looking at them. There were two people walking together under the trees; but he was not looking at them either. This was the eve of a wedding. To-morrow the baronet would have to give away one of those people walking under the trees to the other, and a great struggle was going on in his mind. Not to overcome his disappointment or his affection for Marie; no, it was, as Paul Dombey said to his sister, something greater; but it did not speak to his heart alone-it spoke to his purse, loudly. And so great was his perplexity, that his sister Augusta had been called in to consult with him. If we listen to their conversation, the baronet's struggles will be explained. "But Augusta, allowing that her height and stoutness might be bearable, the horrid fact remains-she is a soap-boiler's daughter-a soap-boiler's daughter!" And great drops of anguish stood on the baronet's forehead as he repeated it. "The soap-boiler is dead and buried," replied Augusta, "and if his ghost is a disagreeable one, why call it up from amongst the ashes of its furnace." دو be my lady. Why, Miles, she is richer than Marie ever would have been. They say she has a hundred thousand." The baronet still struggled feebly. “Augusta, her loud voice positively makes me nervous.' "If a hundred thousand has not a right to make a noise in one's ears I wonder what has!" "And then the name !" said Sir Miles, wiping his forehead-"a Bellenden of Bellenden to marry a Button!" "So long as it is a gilt-button I don't see that it matters," said Augusta, pitilessly. "And, after all, the gilt is the only part you will take. It is not as if you were bound to bear the name!" An exclamation of horror burst from Sir Miles; but Augusta was merciless. "Bellenden Rutherford was not despisable; but Bellenden Button, I admit, would not sound agreeably." 66 Augusta, you will drive me mad!" "Well, endeavour to use your senses while you have them, then I will contrive that you and Miss” (Sir Miles covered his ears)" Button shall have a carriage to yourselves in returning from the church to-morrow. Make use of the opportunity." "It is all very fine," replied the wretched Sir Miles. "And the money would be the saving of me! Bnt if you knew what it was to have your insinuating speeches-" "I never make any." "No, you are plain enough-I grant that: but to have a delicate bit of eloquence answered with a huge Ha, ha, ha-capital!' in a sort of amiable roar !" "I call it very apt," retorted Augusta. "She is a sort of walking capital; and if she should answer your proposal to-morrow with the same word, it will serve you right. Now, Miles, do take advice: say to her Miss'-well, well, never mind the name-say to her, in plain terms, will you be Lady Bellenden?' And I know she will answer as plainly, 'I will!' "' "But what a woman to receive my guests! And everyone will know why I married her." "Then everyone will give you credit for being a sensible man. No, she is not like Marie Rutherford," said Augusta, with a momentary softening in her tone, as she glanced at the figures under the trees. I am very fond of Marie, but I question if I should have liked her as your wife. You would have frozen her up in a month, Miles. She is not made of the stuff to wear and suffer the Bellenden dig nity. I don't think even you will hurt this woman; and I am sure, after the trouble I took to get acquainted with her and bring her here-" "Well, well, you were very good. I'll see about it; but don't worry me any more, there's a good girl. "No, I won't; for I see these young people, and I daresay Harry Rutherford is going. Marie will want me." And in another moment she was on the lawn, drawing Marie's arm in hers, with very little of the Bellenden dignity, but a good deal of affection-which was not usually a Bellenden attribute. "It is a great comfort to me," said Augusta, nodding at Harry, "that clever George found you out. I never should have liked this child as a Bellenden. You know the rule about sisters-in-law, and in her capacity of heiress I persecuted her, whilst now I cannot say I quite like the idea of being without her. You must let me have the entrée at Rutherford, however." "To finish spoiling me!" said Marie. "But I was terribly afraid of you this time last year." "Ah, it wasn't my fault if you did not feel yourself a thorough little nuisance. I'm afraid the Bellenden's are as selfish as their neighbour's. Yes, you may look Mr. Sutton-beg pardon, Rutherford, I meant it for you. Have the goodness to take yourself away, if you please. I want Marie this one evening." And the next day, after Sir Miles had given away the bride in his most pompous manner, after the ceremony was over, and after the festivity and speechifying were over too, the baronet whispered a word in the ear of his sister Augusta; and it is to be supposed that Augusta passed the word on to her friend, and that the word was, in fact, ". Accepted !" since Marie Rutherford startled her husband, by exclaiming, suddenly, and without anything having been previously said which could explain the speech-"I am so glad! They have picked up an heiress for him, and she is richer than ever I was supposed to be! We are not made ourselves by great events, nor do we make others by separate events and determinations. It was the glory and beauty of the great and good Dr. Arnold, of Rugby, that, whether he bathed with his scholars at evening, or walked with them at noonday, or preached to them on Sunday, they felt at all seasons the gentle influence of a good and true Christian man. There was no trying to be a power. He let his life work speak, and the result is known. you are old. Whenever you are walking, no one ever Old age is a public good. Do not feel sad because opens a gate for you to pass through, no one ever honours you with any kind of help, without being himself the better for what he does; for a fellow-feeling with the aged ripens the soul. The hoary head is a crown of glory, if it be found in the way of righteousness." COTTAGE LIFE IN SCOTLAND. PART I. ""Tis even such a wreath, As may be gathered from the hedgerow banks CHAP. I. HALLOW-E'EN. The sea, the sea, its lonely shore, SCENE The south of Scotland; a sterile rockbound coast. It Winter had set in unusually early, and Hallow-e'en had come bright, clear, and frosty, although all day the snow had fallen, flake by flake, from the dull, grey gloom above. lay deep in the plantation of fir-trees, skirting the highway, whose dark green foliage contrasted with the feathery burden "that ne'er had caught one stain of earth." Deep also lay the snow on the thatched roof of the cottages in the small sea-port village of Blackrock, or Blackrie as it was more commonly called. The fruit-trees likewise, growing in the little gardens attached to each cottage, were similarly robed in calm Nature's bridal garment. The moon had risen broad and red, and beautiful stars gemmed the brow of night. The cottage windows, became luminous; and streams of ruddy light flowed from open doors on to the snowy street, where, scrambling and laughing, the elder youths of the village were mercilessly peppering each other with snowballs. Every little urchin held in his hand a turnip lantern, on which were carved moonfaces with immense teeth, ships, birds, fish, or other device pleasing to the juvenile fancy-the more grotesque, the better. Happy little girls also, regardless of, or rather rejoicing in the light, feathery snow beneath their feet, danced about from house to house, begging their Hallow-e'en, the customary dole of nuts and apples, while singing "Hallow-c'en, the night at c'en Wi' warlocks will be hiding." wrapped up, a woman sat on a sack filled with straw; but the driver, a spirited-looking handsome lad, sat on the ledge of the cart. "Geordie, ye'll no gang a black gate the nicht," shouted one of the villagers. Geordie's reply was unpleasantly arrested by a mouthful of snow, thrown by one of the practical jokers. Hastily passing the rein into his companion's hands, he sprang from the cart, and returned their favours with right good will. "I think I hae payed them back for their impudence," said George, as he overtook the cart after a smart run, and took his seat beside the stranger. Yes, Peggy Grier was a stranger. She had been absent in England for sixteen years, and had now availed herself of her master's absence on the continent, to pay a short visit to her native place and distant relatives. It was known among them, that Peggy was comparatively rich, and might have lived comfortably without servitude; but that she preferred the seclusion and quiet of Henley hall, an ancient, dilapidated mansion, where she was sole housekeeper and domestic; her master, an officer in the army, being easily pleased and rarely at home. Turning an angle of the road about a mile distant from the village, the wind came keen and piercing from the sea, which lay before them, calm, white, and glittering in the moonlight. At last the cart arrived in front of a grey old cottage, whose four-paned windows deep set in the massive walls were gleaming with light, and joyous voices were heard laughing and singing within. The rumble of the cart, however, had been heard, and Andrew Lindsay opened the door, his honest ruddy face smiling kindly on his guest as he assisted her from the cart. His comely wife, too, met her at the door, while Katie and Nannie, their blooming young daughters, each bearing a chair, issued from opposite ends of the house, but found themselves too late to assist Peggy in her de scent from the cart. Their mother led her cousin into her room. It was a double-bedded, clay floored apartment; a bright fire sparkled in the small grate, and on the white-washed hob A cart was passing along the road. In it, well a brown teapot simmered. “Ye hae aye yer auld Scotch tongue in yer head," returned Mrs. Lindsay, smiling. "I was fleyed ye wad be sae Englified and prood, that ye wadna pit up wi' oor plain waye. Come awa, Katie, and help cousin Meg aff wi' her things; she'll no bogle at ye." Katie shyly approached, in obedience to her mother's commands, and smiled with pleasure and blushes when Peggy held her at arms' length, exclaiming "Gudesake Jean! what a bonnie lassie! She's as genty and fair as if she was a fine leddy." Nanny came in now for her share of praise; "Aye, ye're a bonny wee rosy thing too, and I see, ye have some birr in ye. Ye are mair made for this world's wear than yer sister is, I'm thinking." The two girls now returned to the kitchen, where they and their young companion, Bet Black, busied themselves in preparing for a gathering of friends, to share in the Haliowe'en festivities. Their father, who had accompanied Geordie Hunter a part of the way, now entered, and informed them that he had invited the young man to return, after he had attended to his duties at the farmhouse, where he was ploughman. A few little grimaces and intelligent looks shewed Andrew that the young girls were pleased with his information, and he then went back to his wife and guest. Peggy perforce pushed Andrew into the armchair she had been occupying, saying, "This is to be my room noo, it seems, and I maun do the honours of it; but ye maunna stay lang, for yer wife tells me ye are expecting company, and I maun pit on my tither gown.' "I think, ye are gey an braw, as ye are," answered Andrew. "It's only Jenny Black and her man, and twa or three young things coming to spend their Hallow-e'en." "I will be glad to see Jenny Black," returned Peggy. "Her and me were neebour servants ance; and eh, man! but it was an awfu Hallowe'en, the last ane we spent together." "I believe sae, Peggy," observed Mrs. Lindsay, "but I never heard a richt story aboot it. Andrew there never likes to speak o't. I suppose he thinks I'll no like it, for ye ken Bob McBrade was ance a lad o' mine." "He "A lad o' yours!" cried Peggy with ruffled plumes. "It was me he was coorting, woman." "Like eneugh," said Mrs. Lindsay. maybe telled the same story to us baith; but, ye ken, we need na cast oot about him; he's scarcely worth that noo." "I heard somebody say that Bob was hereawa no lang syne," said Andrew, "and that he was neither improved in heart, purse, nor person, and it seems he keeps a deep grudge at me yet." 46 Eh, Andrew! dye say sae? and you sae often away droving," cried his wife. "God protect ye frae him, for he had aye a door, revengeful nature in him." "Hoots, gudewife, there's nae fear; ye aye forecast ill. I hae been a drover ower lang, no tae ken how to tak care o' mysel, but we maun awa to the kitchen, for I hear some folk coming in." "Keep you oot o' Bob's way, nevertheless," insisted Peggy with emphasis. "Bob's no to be depended on nae way." 66 After Andrew and his wife had left her, Peggy put on a silk dress, and was fastening her broad collar with a brooch, when the door opened and Bet Black entered. She was a slight dark girl, with a singularly beautiful face. My mither sent me to see if ye wad sune be ben, she's wearying to see ye," said Bet. "And wha may yer mither be, my bonny wumman," inquired Peggy. "She maun be something past ordinar hersel, if she has ony mair dochters like you." 66 "My mither's name is Jenny Black," replied Bet, half closing her beautiful eyelashes over her glittering black eyes. Aye, wumman, and ye are Jenny Black's dochter," echoed Peggy, still gazing admiringly on the young girl's beautiful face." A furtive gleam out of those wonderful eyes made her pause, and she added, "I hope ye are jist as gude as ye are bonny, if ye are, ye will do. And noo, will ye try to fasten that broch for me, for my fingers are a' thmoobs the nicht. care and no brak it, for it was a present frae the captain, puir thing, and cost him mony a pound, and I would ill like ocht should happen it." Bet fastened the brooch, and together they entered the kitchen. CHAP. II. Tak With my sharp heel I three times mark the ground, COLLINS. The kitchen was large, with a wide hearthand a stone, great chimney. A huge three-footed pot filled with potatoes, hung over the blazing peat fire, suspended by a chain and hook. The rafters were decorated with hams, fish, onions, and white and black puddings, whilst the dresser exhibited rows of quart basins, printed with gaudy flowers. The room was filled to overflowing, and Jenny Black, who sat beside the fire, in all the glory of an immense thick muslin quilted cap, received her old friend with most demonstrative affection, and inundated her with questions concerning her past, present, and future, her face the while an index of craft and selfishness. Meantime the big pot was lifted down, and the young men volunteered to beat the potatoes. Round and round they circled, mashing them with amazing skill and activity. This done, Katie added a cupful of butter, and a noggin of rich milk, which she at first slowly stirred in, kneeling on one knee. Gradually her motions became more rapid, as she performed swift evolutions and figures of eight, till her strength became exhausted; after which the other girls took the "spurtle," in succession, and mixed in with the well beat potatoes a ring; prophetic of marriage; a nut of riches, and a thimble of single blessedness. Then, amidst much laughter and fun, they dipped their spoons in succession into the steaming bowl, to try their fortunes, and please their palate at the same time. While the young people thus enjoyed themselves, Andrew Lindsay and an old shepherd, sat in a corner discoursing earnestly on religious topics. They continued for some time ap parently unconscious of the uproar around them, but at length Andrew nudged his friend, saying, "Sit farrit, John. We may as weel taste what's gaun." The old man did so, and great was the amusement of the young people, when the first spoonful that John took, contained the ring. "Aye, he keepit an ee on the pot, and kenned whaur to look for it," cried one. "Na, it was Bet Black that whispered him. ye no see her creeping roond to him" quoth Did another ? Eh, the cuttie! she kens whaur to get a gude doon sitting," cried a third. The precise old man gazed from one to the other with open mouth and complete bewilderment, and then began with great solemnity to protest, "that he could positively aver he didna ken whaur the ring was-that Andrew Lindsay wad be his cation, that he had not ance looked at the pot a' the time-and that Betty Black micht hae whispered ony thing she liked, but he wad say, he had heerd noucht of it." Poor John's protest, much to his amazement, only added to their mirth, but the potatoes were cooling, so they resumed their search into futurity. Nannie Lindsay was so fortunate as to get the nut, and immediately afterwards something yellow was observed in Bet Black's spoonful, which she tried in vain to hide. "Weel, it is the thimble," she at length admitted, "but there's nae truth in the champers. I'll hae better luck wi' the apples," and she assisted Nannie to lift to the middle of the floor, a washing pail, half full of water, in which were a number of rosy-cheeked apples. Then throwing back her beautiful black wavy hair, she plunged her head into the water, and after a few moments worrying at the bottom of the pail, she raised her dripping face and streaming hair, showing a fine apple between her teeth. "Bet, for ever," shouted George Hunter, entering the kitchen. "Hae, there it's to ye," cried Bet, throwing the spoil of her teeth to him, "I'll fish for mysel next time." George was graciously pleased to accept of her present, thus exciting a little jealousy among the other girls, for he was the Adonis of the parish, the observed of all observers. Peggy was greatly pleased with Bet's spi it and vivacity-"She's the bonniest and cleverest lass there," she whispered to Bet's delighted mother. "Aye," answered Jenny; "though I say it, that should not say it, there is nae a better lass in the country side, than my Bet-but look ye here, watch Katie." The young girl had previously been observed to place a covered basin beside the glowing embers of the fire, which she now took away. moved past her, and she raised the cover and "Stop a minit," said Nannie, as her sister put something in; Katie laughed, and then gliding behind chairs and stools, she timidly placed the smoking dish, with a horn spoon in it, beside George Hunter. "Hallo, Katie, dost thou mean this?" cried George, as he lifted a thimble from the edge of the creamy potatoes. "Eat it, Geordie," whispered Nannie, "nae carrion will pushion a craw." But George's eyes were fixed on Nannie's blushing sister, and his long arm caught her hinny, ye dinna mean me to live a bachelor." near him, and he said softly again," Katie, "Folk are ill to ken," said a voice full of reproachful meaning at his other side, and which he recognised as Bet Black's. 66 But at this moment the door burst open, and "Laggy," Laggy," was the cry, as an immense monster plunged into the kitchen enveloped in a black covering, with a snout about a yard long. Instantly the children and timid females sprang on to the dresser, tables, chests, and chairs, out of reach of the poking nose of Laggy. It seemed to persecute Nannie Lindsay most; everywhere it pursued her, till at last Tam Black, Jenny's son, seized the long snout, which became a wooden ladle in his hand, and displayed under the black coverlet, Jamie Brown, a fine young sailor with laughing blue eyes and curly hair. Nannie shook her head at him, and he threaded his way to the dresser where she stood, to make rather a lengthened apology for his late persevering attentions. Burning nuts was next the order of the evening, and while the lads and lasses stood around the fire watching the blazing nuts burn lovingly together on the hot shovel, or showing their internal antagonism by unexpected springs from each other, Peggy talked with Jenny Black. "I wanted to cum amang ye all," she said, "to mak acquaintance wi' yer families, for ye see I hae neither kith nor kin, o' my ain, and |