In the course of the forenoon, a bright crimson sleigh, the bottom filled with clean straw, and the seats covered with bear and buffalo robes, the horse ornamented around the neck and back with strings of bells that jangled sweet music every step he took, drove up to the door of Judge Bernard.  A young man stepped out, whom we recognize as Pownal.  He entered the house, and in a few minutes returned with Anne Bernard, muffled in cloak and boa, and carrying a muff upon her arm.  Health glowed in her cheek and happiness lighted up her eyes.  Pownal assisted her into the sleigh, and carefully disposing the robes about her, took his seat by her side and drove off.

They drove at first into the older part of the town, as yet undescribed by us, nor do we now intend a description, save that the road was wide, and a considerable part of the way bordered by elms and maples, glorious with beauty in summer, but now standing like mourners shivering in the wintry air, and as they passed hailed with special looks and expressions of admiration those two fraternal elms, towering over all, like patriarchs of the vegetable world, which, once seen, none will forget.

  “Huge trunks, and each particular trunk a growth
  Of intertwisted fibres, serpentine,
  Upcoiling, and inveterately convolved—­
  Nor uninformed with Phantasy and looks
  That threaten the profane.”

Thence, following the street that winds around the village green, and greeted by the joyous shouts of acquaintances in passing sleighs, and joining, now and then, in friendly races, they crossed the upper bridge of the Yaupaae, and leaving the shouts and merriment behind, struck into a more secluded road.

Whatever charms the conversation that passed between the young people might have for them, it would not interest the reader, and we therefore pass it over.  It was such as might be expected between two youthful beings, one of whom knew he was in love, and the other began to suspect, from emotions never felt before, the commencement of a partiality that was as sweet as it was strange.  To two hearts thus attached, and tuned to vibrate in harmony, all nature ministers with a more gracious service.  The sun is brighter, the sky bluer, the flower more fragrant, the chime of the brook has a deeper meaning, and a richer music swells the throat of the bird.  Things unobserved before, and as unconnected with the new emotion, indifferent, now assume importance.  A look, a tone of the voice, a pressure of the hand, are events to dream about and feast upon.  In the presence of the beloved object all things else are either unheeded or dwindle into comparative insignificance.