“Very well,” replied his brother, “have it your own way, so far as you’re consarned, as for me, I look upon it all as mere nonsense.”

It is seldom that honest and manly affection fails to meet its reward, be the period soon or late.  Had Art been guided by Frank’s apparent indifference—­who, however, acted in this matter solely for the sake of sparing his brother’s feelings—­he would have missed the opportunity of being a party to an incident which influenced his future life in all he ever afterwards enjoyed and suffered.  He had gone, as he said, to bid farewell to his neighbors, and was on his return home in order to take his departure, when whom should he meet on her way to her father’s house, after having called at his father’s “to see the girls,” as she said, with a slight emphasis upon the word girls, but Margaret Murray.

As was natural, and as they had often done before under similar circumstances, each paused on meeting, but somehow on this occasion there was visible on both sides more restraint than either had ever yet shown.  At length, the preliminary chat having ceased, a silence ensued, which, after a little time, was broken by Margaret, who, Art could perceive, blushed deeply as she spoke.

“So, Art, you and Frank are goin’ to lave us.”

“It’s not with my own consint I’m goin’, Margaret,” he replied.  As he uttered the words he looked at her; their eyes met, but neither could stand the glance of the other; they were instantly withdrawn.

“I’ll not forget my friends, at all events,” said Art; “at least, there’s some o’ them I won’t, nor wouldn’t either, if I was to get a million o’ money for doin’ so.”

Margaret’s face and neck, on hearing this, were in one glow of crimson, and she kept her eyes still on the ground, but made no reply.  At length she raised them, and their glances met again; in that glance the consciousness of his meaning was read by both, the secret was disclosed, and their love told.

The place where they stood was in one of those exquisitely wild but beautiful green country lanes that are mostly enclosed on each side by thorn hedges, and have their sides bespangled with a profusion of delicate and fragrant wild flowers, while the pathway, from the unfrequency of feet, is generally covered with short daisy-gemmed grass, with the exception of a trodden line in the middle that is made solely by foot-passengers.  Such was the sweet spot in which they stood at the moment the last glance took place between them.

At length Margaret spoke, but why was it that her voice was such music to him now?  Musical and sweet it always was, and he had heard it a thousand times before, but why, we ask, was it now so delicious to his ear, so ecstatic to his heart?  Ah, it was that sweet, entrancing little charm which trembled up from her young and beating heart, through its softest intonations; this low tremor it was that confirmed the tale which the divine glance of that dark, but soft and mellow eye, had just told him.  But to proceed, at length she spoke—­