“O, do not do that,” he replied, smiling; “It will be but for a short time, and it is said, ‘absence lends enchantment to the view.’”

“O, dear,” cried Melinda, a blue eyed beauty, leaning confidently upon the arm of Theodore Stanley, “I should think Ed and Ann were saying their parting adieus, they look so sad.”

Upon this the eyes of the whole group were turned upon them, and affecting a gaiety they did not feel, they soon hastened forward and joined in the general conversation till they came to the place of their destination.

What was called the Island, was a point of land in the edge of a large pond, or lake it might be called, as it was six miles long and three or four wide.  It was separated from the main land in low water, by a small stream that was crossed by a large stone placed in the centre, for a stepping stone; but in high water it could be reached only with boats.

The little party crossed this stream, and seated themselves upon the grassy knolls, beneath the giant oaks that spread their huge branches around them, for they were the growth of centuries.  Loud came the chorus of the feathered tribe, as they sang their evening hymns before retiring to their nests, which were very abundant in that shady retreat, which afforded them protection from the truant school boys.

Annie reclined against the trunk of one of the largest trees, seated by Edward’s side, when suddenly looking up, she said,

“O, Edward, let me have your knife.”

He reached it to her, and she immediately commenced carving his name in the tough bark of the tree, against which she was leaning.

Many followed her example, and many fairy fingers were busy carving the names of their favorite friend upon the trunks of the aged trees that surrounded them.

“I shall cut it deep,” said Annie, “so that it will live forever; and I hope there will be neither mould nor moss upon it, to hide it from view, as I shall love to come and look upon when you are far away.”

“Ann,” said one, “we will come here in the long summer days, and weave chaplets of the bright leaves of the old oak, and twine them round our lord’s name.”

This occupied their time till the shadows of evening fell around them, and it was dark when they reached their homes.

It was midnight—­dark, dreary midnight.  Black clouds hung in huge, portentous masses over, the vault of heaven.  The forky lightning flashed, and the deep toned thunder reverberated peal on peal, while the shrieking winds rocked the tree tops, and poured their wild melody upon the ear.  It was nature arrayed in awful sublimity, displaying the majesty of God.