this quarrel with considerable interest, from the first little coolness till the time when the widow passed the farmer in the street without noticing him save by a portentous frown, and when William in vain tried to obtain a moment's interview with Letty-being always repulsed by Mrs. Grant, and informed that he was not wanted in her cottage, and that her daughter was determined to have nothing whatever to do with any of the Atwood family, and was as indignant with them all as she herself was. This last was, as may be imagined, a fiction; and William knew Letty too well to believe it; but he gave up his visits to the cottage, well knowing that the widow was indefatigable in keeping her daughter out of the way. There was but one opinion in Mapleton with regard to the Grant and Atwood feud. If it ever were reconciled, it would be by some extraordinary chance little short of a miracle; and for once the good gossips were right. he was now in a state of calm despair with regard to Letty, he agreed to go. On the day which he had appointed for his journey something prevented him from setting off, and he was obliged to wait till the following day. In the evening, as usual, he walked forth on a solitary ramble, and, as usual, proceeded to the dingle in Hilford Wood. But, not as usual, he there found Letty, pale and tearful, and looking "the shadow of her former self" indeed, seated at the foot of the huge oak tree. Poor William! he very nearly wept too, as he beheld her altered face, and read there all she had suffered. He started to her side in a moment, seized her hand, and had poured forth a torrent of questions, reproaches, hopes and fears, long before the frightened girl could find voice to speak a word. "I thought-I thought that you were gone to London," she faltered at length. so long? Every day for more than two months I have loitered about this place, hoping to see you only once, before I left Mapleton; and you would not grant me even that poor consolation." "What use would it have been?" said Letty, weeping, and trying to release her hand from her lover's clasp: "what use is it now, that we do see each other, except that it will make us more unhappy than we were before? It is best to keep apart. William, everything is at an end now, and we must try to forget each other: it is our only chance of peace." "Forget each other?" echoed William, in dismay and astonishment. "What do you mean, Letty? Do you mean to say you no longer care for me? Is it really true what they said? And do you hate me?" "I understand-else you would not have Although William ceased to visit the cottage been here?" said William, half-reproachfully, in the hope of seeing Letty, he did not give up"Ah, Letty, how could you keep away from me his attempts to obtain an interview with her elsewhere. About a mile from Mapleton is a wood of some extent, and in a certain dingle of this wood Letty was wont to spend a great portion of her leisure with her books or work. Under the shadow of a giant oak was her favourite seat; and in happier days William had trained the graceful boughs of two young birch trees to form a kind of bower, and had constructed a rustic seat, which was now overgrown with ivy and wild roses, so that a fairer haunt for a young maiden than this same dingle should not be found in a summer-day's ramble. William had delighted in beautifying the spot. A shallow stream that intersected the entire wood, just at this point, fell down a steep bank into a little pool, with the pleasantest and most lulling sound in the world; and around this pool the fairest of the wild-flowers raised their heads. Here might be seen tall trumpet-flowers, cunning foxgloves (or, to call them by their far prettier Irish cognomen, fairy caps), meadowsweet, corn-flowers, forget-me-nots, and most lovely of them all, the snowy water-lily, whose classic blossoms floated on the surface of the still and clear waters like elfin gondolas. In this place poor William spent half his days, in the hope of sometime catching a glimpse of Letty. For a long, long time every day beheld his disappointment, and at length he began to fear that the young girl had really given him upwas resolved never to see him again-and that he should indeed be compelled to fulfil his father's wish, and go to London on some business of his, without obtaining an interview with her. The farmer was very anxious to get him away from Mapleton; he thought that if he were to be placed among new scenes and faces for a little while, he would soon forget his affection for the widow's daughter; and with this view he continually adjured him to proceed to London, and William continually postponed his departure, till at length the presence of either his father or himself became indispensable, and as "No, no-oh no!" exclaimed the girl, passionately; and then, as if afraid of her own earnestness, she averted her face, and was silent. William looked scrutinizingly at her for a few moments, and then, as if satisfied that she really did love him still, took her hand again, which in his surprise he had suffered her to withdraw, and said: "We shall always love each other as long as we live, Letty; I know it. Don't talk of forgetting, for it is no use; and to hear you speak so breaks my heart. And listen to me now: it is most unjust and unreasonable that because your mother and my father choose to quarrel on some stupid matter, our happiness and peace of mind should be sacrificed. If they obstinately persist in refusing their consent to our marriage, we must marry without it. After all is over they will be more reasonable, and will be glad enough to forgive us and be reconciled. And so, Letty, only consent to let me make the necessary arrangements, and a month hence we can be married at Sandhurst Church. If they are still unreasonable we can go to London; and once there, I have no fear of our welfare. I am sure I could get employment, and then how happy we should be, in a little home of our E own, not caring for anybody except each other! Should we not be happy, Letty?" "No, William," replied the young girl firmly; "we should not be happy, for we should not be doing right: we should not be happy, for our consciences would not be easy. Although you are blinded now by anger and disappointment, I am sure that you love your father dearly still; and if you found his displeasure continue-if you found yourself estranged from him and from your own old home for ever! Think, William, what it would be to feel that you had seen for the last time the house you were born in-your native village; and, more than that, your mother-your mother who dotes upon you as the only child left to her. Could you bear, do you think-your sad thoughts and regrets? Worse still, to reflect that your disobedience had caused sorrow and wretchedness to your parents. Could you know and feel all that, and be happy, William ?" She looked earnestly in his face; her dark, truthful eyes dimmed with the tears her own fervency had called forth. She even placed her hand upon his arm, but William turned away his head. "I see, I see," he said in a choked voice, and gently putting aside her light touch; "they were right after all! You don't love me, Letty -I know it now. You could not stand there preaching to me upon duty with that calm voice of yours, and bringing forward reason after reason against our marriage: such good reasons," he added, bitterly, "that it is a thousand pities my father or your mother is not within hearing, to profit by them, and learn of you how to place obstacles in the way of our happiness! Our happiness! I beg your pardon - I am well aware that to wed the penniless, almost friendless being I now am, would not, could not cause you any happiness. Don't fancy that I blame you, Letty; it is only natural that a young creature like you, who has always been protected from positive neediness, should fear to come in contact with poverty-to fight with the cold, hard world-even with one beside you who loves you better than his life-than anything in the whole world father, mother, home, friends! Yes, Letty, I'd sacrifice them all for you. But if you love such ties better than me, I have no more to say-not a word, Let us part, Letty, for ever! Farewell!" He cast his eyes upon her for the last time, as he thought; but there was such a look of anguish in the pale face, so much of hopeless agony exhibited in the unconsciously clasped hands and eyes turned to heaven, as though for comfort and help in this worst grief of all, that he moved towards her once more, took her hand, and murmured "Letty, Letty! one word! Say that you will consent to what I ask, and I will never doubt your love for another moment while I live !" "God help me, and guide me, and support me!" gasped forth the poor girl, as she tottered to the little seat beneath the tree, and sunk helplessly down; and then she proceeded in an incoherent manner, "I am sorely tried. Oh, William, if you only knew-this last, worst pang you have caused me; and I have suffered so ever since-you cannot-I know you cannot really believe what you say-I who have loved you so long-so truly, and shall love you still till I die." "Then why not yield to me, Letty, and come" "There is no happiness for the disobedient and selfish," cried Letty energetically, and speaking rapidly, as if she feared her own firinness and resolution; "and if we were to act as you propose, we should be both-- Don't look at me in that cold, doubtful, displeased manner, dear William-my heart is so full-I have been so unhappy! But I must tell you, although you persist in misjudging me. You must think of your father and mother, whose every hope is bound up in you, who are so proud of their son --who look forward to seeing him in his father's place at the head of the farm. You would break their hearts if you were to leave them as you say. And I, William, I must not forget my mother-who is poor and old and lonely-who has no one in the world to care for her and work for her but me. She has loved me, and cared for me, and toiled for me ever since I was born; and I will not now forsake her, and leave her to die in loneliness and poverty! I will not leave my mother though my heart break in the struggle. It is hard, it is cruel; but do not you make my lot harder. Rest content--I shall always love you, and only you; and when your father gives his consent to our marriage, then, and not till then, I will be your wife!" There was a pause, only broken by a slight rustling among the trees as if some bird were startled from its nest by the unwonted sound of voices heard in the evening in that retired spot. And then William turned round, took Letty's hand, and kissed it fondly. "You have conquered," he said in a low voice, while the young girl gazed in his face with a look of sudden joy-"you have conquered! You are right, Letty, and I was wrong, and hasty, and passionate. I shall not easily forgive myself for the bitter things I have said to you in the heat of my anger and disappointment; but you will forgive me for all! Yes, I see you are right; I will submit patiently to my father's wishes: perhaps if he sees me prepared to bend to his commands, he will grow less arbitrary. Ah, my own Letty, if he only knew you as I know you: if he could only hear you as you spoke but now, bearing with my brutal injustice-nay, let me speak?-and remaining gentle and calm and unreproachful amid all my blind passion-if he could only have seen and heard you, then my life for it he could not then refuse to make his son happy by giving him such a wife!" "You are quite right, Will, he could not!" exclaimed a hoarse voice. And straightway from amid the tangled branches of the young trees of the wood, emerged the tall, stout form of Farmer Atwood, whose face was rather red, and whose eyes betrayed the presence of some description of moisture; but that might be from coughing, for as he presented himself before the amazed lovers he coughed most violently. "I've heard it all," said he, lifting Letty in his arms, and bestowing upon her a most Herculean embrace, "and I've come to two conclusions-first, that Will knows better what he is about in choosing a wife than I gave him credit for; secondly, that if he, a provoking, tempting, young rascal, don't marry you within this same month of May, why I will, that's all!" with another kiss; "although there is an objection to that last certainly, in the shape of my good, kind, dear old wife at home!" "Father!" cried William, half believing he was in a dream, half wild with joy at the idea of the reality of it all. "William-dear William!" sobbed Letty, never doubting the reality of the sudden delight, but weeping from the revulsion of feeling. "Don't cry, don't cry, my lamb!" said Mr. Atwood, stroking her chesnut hair caressingly; "and don't be frightened of me, though I have behaved very ill to you and-and to your mother too, I believe (though she is really very provoking, very aggravating). I mean to make up for my past mistakes. I never knew you, Letty, till within this half-hour. Very likely your mother may not be so bad as I thought she was. Don't say a word-don't cry-don't speak to her, Will, you young dog! Let us go-let us come," continued the good yeoman, getting incoherent in his excitement; "let us make haste to Mrs. to your mother's cottage, and very likely I have misjudged her too. Let us make haste and get to her, and be all reconciled and happy before night. I daresay I've been unjust to Mrs. Grant; I was unjust to you I know, Letty; and, after all, women are all aggravating, more or less! So come along." And he drew Letty's arm within his; bade William (who had strong doubts as to whether he trod upon earth or air) walk on before; and talking with affectionate unintelligibility to his daughter-in-law in anticipation, all the way, they reached the widow's cottage. Doubtless they settled their quarrel very satisfactorily, for in three weeks from this eventful evening Letty and William were married in Mapleton church in the presence of a numerous party of relatives and friends. Mrs. Grant and Mr. Atwood walked arm-in-arm to and from the church; and the faces of both these worthy individuals were perfectly resplendent with good-humour and happiness. It is recorded that there has not been the shadow of a misunderstanding between them since; and even if such a disaster were to occur, I believe that Letty, gentle peacemaker that she is, would succeed in adjusting it before it reached to any serious importance. Would that all our village quarrels could be settled as amicably, and that all those petty feuds which take their rise in irritability, and flourish with the aid of prejudice and hastiness till they attain to a false and sometimes a fatal influence-would that they all reached as happy a termination as this grand quarrel between Farmer Atwood and the Widow Grant! A HAPPY NEW YEAR. (Being the Sequel to "A Merry Christmas.") BY MERLIN. The frost continues. The earth and water are still bound in iron chains, and the old year is dying. One more Merry Christmas is well nigh gathered to its fathers; and the year, that shone so brightly on our hope and joy-that looked so coldly on our struggles and griefs-that brought love and pleasure to many, and long-suffering and death to many more-is dying. Slowly, surely, the clock-hands move toward the stroke when it shall be no more. May its successor look upon less suffering! and O may it bring us greater strength to meet the trials and privations that inevitably come to all-more trust in God's wisdom and love-a higher, truer aim in life, and a readier willingness, by self-denial, to benefit others; for by these, and these alone, may we hope to enjoy a Happy New Year. I am discursive again, dear reader; but for the last time. Let us proceed to our story, and the actors therein, whom we left, in the glimmering morning light, planning for the morrow, and discussing the events of a merry Christmas Day; and now it is New Year's Eve. The intervening days have flown by with winged speed. Life at Aspen Hall opened a new joyous existence to Ashlowe, and not less so to Avon that it was only the resumption of an old one shared by a new friend. Shooting-excursions on the moor; cutting eights upon the ice; long rambles with Jennie and Kate, and uproarious mirth by night, filled their time and bestowed -"the sweetest sleep And fairest boding dreams that ever As we not unfrequently see, between the "Sixteen!" And up jumped the last speaker, contriving to meet Kate in the centre of the room, where he held her while the hoop-like trencher settled itself on the floor. nearest of friends, or even sisters, a total differ- | Kate," said Avon, who had been trying in vain ence of character marked the actions of Jennie to make her forfeit. and Kate. In friendship, as in love, the law is, not like to like, but opposite to opposite. So was it between our joint heroines-the one, demonstrative, mischievous, pretty, and rather given to coquetry; the other, quiet, acquiescent, and thoughtful. While Jennie bore you irresistibly along, with merry mischief and boisterous mirth, Kate won her way more readily and directly to the heart by a genial truthful earnestness. Mention was made, in the previous part, of a certain awkward Squire, between whom and Jean there had been some "love passages"; and his chagrin at the intrusion of that "Lunun chap" was, I also believe, indicated. But this was not sufficient to prevent Jean from making him invite the new-comer to accompany the Aspen Hall people to Hurdington Grange, whither, accordingly, we follow over the cold moorland road on New Year's Eve. Life in the country palls upon the thorough Londoner, on account of its monotonous routine. People of more artificial habits long for the theatres and the constant whirl of different scenes, while the tenants of broad acres and wayside cottages are content to laugh at the jokes and play the games their fathers did before them; and do it with a zest which is, to say the least, astonishing to the placid character of town festivities. Let us mingle in the game at the Grange. It will show you more fully than a long paragraph of tedious narrative the altered position our actors have assumed. "I protest it isn't fair, Miss Avon," cried the young host, making a dash at the trencher, and failing to catch it; here you've been calling on me all night, and never give it a chance of standing while I cum up." "A forfeit! a fair forfeit!" shouted half a score of the players. "Pay the forfeit.' "Well you've a'most emptied my pockets," said he, fumbling for something to add to a heap of handkerchiefs, keys, knives, brooches, and other miscellanies, the properties of the players, to be redeemed by extravagant doings; and after several offers of commodities already in store, the game was allowed to proceed by his depositing with his mother (who was pawnbroker for the company) a ring from his finger. "Rob-Mr. Ashlowe-that's not fair." "Nay! if ladies will sit under the mistletoe, they must expect to be kissed." "There is none over here." "There was; and here it is," said Ashlowe, holding it up. "Number nine!" called the Squire. And the possessor of that number being the lady engaged in the above dialogue, darted forward, and upset the trencher, amidst the acclamations of the whole party. "Twilight!" And away went the players, struggling for new seats, which were so contrived that one must be left standing and pay a forfeit. "Hoorah! Caught at last! That's one for "Under the kissing bush." "You've a forfeit to pay, sir, and I'll cry it." same cost, if you like." 66 Be off, Mr. Impudence!" said Kate, blushing, and very impolitically boxing his ear; upon which he (being in this particular matter & thorough Christian) kissed her again for the blow. "Number one!" shouted Avon, in even a louder voice than the other players had; and it is always an object in this game to call those who appear most absorbed in conversation; and, acting upon this rule, our ex-hero-for such we may term him-selected number one; a dumpling-shaped girl, with rosy cheeks and broad red arms, who, rousing herself from a tête-à-tête with her neighbour, came up just in time, and having hitherto taken but little part in the game, called the neighbour before mentioned, and kept the company laughing at their grotesque efforts, and the frequent repetition of "one" and "five." It was a source of great annoyance to the host, that he was never for a moment allowed to sit by Miss Avon's side, though, be it said to the credit of his ingenuity, he had frequently called out her next neighbour for the express purpose of being near to her. Nor did his mother, who, in common with other maternal ladies, was keenly alive to the merits of her son, witness this proceeding with any feeling of satisfaction; but thus it was; and while the dumpling and her admirer-for such he evidently was were keeping the game to themselves, the inheritor of Hurdington Grange and his mother looked with jealousy upon the whispers of Jennie and Ashlowe, while similar proceedings on the part of others had no part of their attention. "I suppose you are horribly tired of our stupid parties," said Jennie: "they are so slow to you, who are used to the fast life of London.” I should never tire of them with you by my side; nor could they be stupid while you enlivened them with such conversation and played upon so good-natured a host's susceptibilities," was the rejoinder. "How do you know I play upon him? I am sure his remarks upon dairies and cheeses are more interesting than your flattery: I abominate flattery." "Did I flatter?" "Yes. But I believe you are so used to it that it has become a matter of course, and you don't even know you do it. London must be a horrid place, where everybody goes about saying things they don't believe." "London is a glorious place, as some day I hope to show you; and if I flatter, it is you who have taught me," Ashlowe replied. "At least it is long since I did it before," he afterwards added, in a changed tone. Whenever and it had been often-in the long walks and quiet conversations with her, he had spoken as other than an acquaintance, a shade had come across his brow, his manner had changed, and he would lead the talk back again to general topics. "Number, Kate," cried a little one of our party, and knocked down the trencher before it was caught, chuckling at her ingenuity. "There you flatter again," said Jennie; "no one else ever told me I made them flatter, and I'll go and talk to Hurdy about his acres and Here there was a general twilight and a cry for forfeits, which was only silenced by the announcement of supper, so it was decided to have them after, and the interval before the meal was filled with jokes, kisses, and other Christmas pleasantries, till Hurdy (as Jennie playfully called their host), made happy by the fulfilment of her threat to Ashlowe, led the way to a table spread with a banquet such as our ancient Barons might have presented to their retainers before leading them against an enemy. "It is best," thought Ashlowe, as he watched Jennie's face change from red to white, and white to red again, while the ponderous farming squire lent over and whispered to her-" best that it should be so.". How often do we deceive ourselves and wrong our friends by a hasty interpretation of trival actions, and dwell upon a vague surmise till it shows all the plausibility of fact, and we admit it as such How wrongly did Ashlowe read the changing colour on her cheeks, whose every action was becoming of deeper interest to him than aught else in the world, and deceive himself with the repetition of the above sentence ! Little indeed did he, or any of the merry guests, who were not too personally occupied to note these changing colours, attribute them to their true cause. Hurdy had, in fewer minutes than have been occupied by the recital, proposed for Jennie's heart and hand, and received an unqualified negative, candid and kindly as might be, for a positive answer, and was now quietly proceeding with his beef and pudding. There are not very many of us who could, under such circumstances, resume a meal, stayed by such an interruption, with zest and appetite; but he did, and ate heartily too. It had been for a long time settled between him and his mother that it should be on this particular night, and, till the advent of Robert, not a doubt of his acceptance was entertained; but the progress which that gay young bachelor had made in the society of Jennie, only urged Hurdy on; so, taking an opportunity when it was least to be expected, he surprised Jennie, had his answer, and resumed his supper. "You won't mention it or think of it again to-night, please, but just make your game of me as usual," "Oh, certainly not, never to anybody." "Thank you, thank you much! it won't matter after to-night, and all my hope is that you'll be happy." And this was the last allusion to the subject, he thinking it was for Ashlowe she had refused him; while Robert vainly strove to think it was for the best that her cheeks should change colour when he whispered in her ear. We may not here stay to chronicle the consumption of huge sirloins of beef, and the rapid disappearance of pie, tart, pudding, and such small deer. If you, kind reader, are desirous to know, let me advise a ten-miles' drive, a sixhours' fast, occupied as we have seen our actors occupy them, and then multiply your appetite by a score, and the wonder will cease to exist! Neither may we repeat all the extravagant penalties exacted for forfeits on the games, and dances that followed; let it suffice to say that Hurdy bore them all with so excellent a grace that none could even dream how momentous a question had been settled for ever, and a verdict returned which upset the plannings of more New Years than one. But let not the reader suppose he did not feel it. He did, and keenly too; but there was, under a somewhat rough exterior, a sense of courtesy and knowledge of what was due to his guests, that forbade him to show it, as many a more refined man would not fail to have done. Jennie, shy at first, relaxed again, and made game of him as much as ever, imposing upon him the most ridiculous sentences, all of which were imperative: such as standing on a bench, with a lighted candle in his hand, till some fair lady should be graciously pleased to kiss him, and which office she eventually performed, though not till he had undergone many pinchings and twittings, amidst the laughter of old and young, Then Ashlowe was blindfolded and left to grope his way after the others, who did not fail to assail him from every side; and thus the hours wore on, till, far over the frozen fields, they heard the village bells ring out the old year and, changing, welcome the new one. Then, again, there were dances and games, forfeits and kisses, and shaking of hands and wishing "good night," and " may it be a happy one,' in the keen, frosty air, while our party settled themselves under the warm wrappers, and drove away under the leafless beechen woods. "Good night, Hurdy; and be sure you come to see us soon, ," said Jennie, as they whirled away, and heard another response from him they addressed : "Good night, and may-be I'll come tomorrow." وو Really, Jane, you are too bad; it's shameful the way you treat him, that it is," said Kate. "Oh, it's only in jest, and he knows it," replied the other, lightly. "I don't believe he thinks it jest, Jennie; and there is nothing in the world so much to be dreaded as the reproach of -" and Kate paused, not for want of words, but fearing to hurt the other's feelings-"at least in these |