“Ah, so you have had a previous acquaintance with her.”

“Yes; for I am sure it is the same person.  She is the niece, is she not, of Mr. Denham, of B——­; but I first met her when she was visiting the part of the country in which I was stationed for a year or two.”

“I remember perfectly the time,” was the reply.  “Her relatives had become alarmed at her failing health, and change of air had been ordered by the physician.”

“And so she is going to H——.”

“Yes, on a visit to her mother’s brother, Mr. Edwards.  His only daughter is about to be married, and they have sent for her to be bride’s maid.  Miss Wiltshire has never seen any of the family as yet, with the exception of Mr. Edwards, who came to B——­, on business, and then, for the first time, had an opportunity of becoming acquainted with his niece.”

“It is rather singular,” was the reply, while a smile lighted up the fine countenance of the speaker, “that I am on a somewhat similar errand.  The groom, who for many years has been an intimate friend of mine, insisted on my performing the marriage ceremony.  I maintained that it was the lady’s privilege to select a clergyman, but, as he said that their wishes were one in that respect, I was compelled to concede, and am on my way thither for that purpose.”

“I am heartily glad of it,” said Mr. Cameron.  “Miss Wiltshire will, I am sure, be pleased to see you again, and she will now have more agreeable company than an old man like me can possibly be; so if you have no objection we will join her, for she appears to be engaged in a converse with solitude.”

“I was about proposing to do so, for to renew my acquaintance with one whom I had learned, during her brief sojourn, so highly to esteem, will indeed be an agreeable episode in my journey.”

While this conversation was carried on between the two friends, Agnes had risen from her seat, and with one hand on the railing was leaning slightly over the side of the steamer, watching the ebb and flow of the transparent waves, or gazing fondly on the shores fast fading in the distance.  She was not apt to be melancholy; indeed, she seldom allowed herself to indulge in a mood so opposed to that cheerfulness which should characterize a Christian; but as she stood there gazing on the mingled beauties of sea and land, more beautiful than ever at this hour, when the golden hues of sunset were reflected in the placid waters, and touched with fresh glory the distant hills, dark and gloomy shadows stole over her spirit.

And, indeed, distressing to youth, so dependent on the kindness and sympathy of others, were the circumstances under which she was now placed.  She had bade adieu to the friends who had watched over her from childhood, not as hitherto, during her brief visits, with the loving farewell and the earnest injunction to speedily return; but cold looks and colder words had marked that parting, with the very distant intimation,