brother, who had died in India, leaving a large fortune to these his only children.

Percy Dalton soon became a constant visitor at Daleford House, and being an agreeable, gentlemanly fellow, good looking, and well connected, he found himself advancing in the good graces of his new friends. The Major, though somewhat punctilious on matters of etiquette, and rather fond of being thought Sir Oracle in questions of dispute, was on the whole frank and generous, thoroughly hospitable, and soon grew delighted with Percy, whom he characterized as "a young man of sound good sense, Sir, no nonsense about him, thoroughly straightforward, and knows what he's about;" This was very high praise from Major Morrison, who often remarked that “one half of the world didn't seem to know what they were about!” The great attraction in the eyes of Percy Dalton, however, was not the conversation or good chess-playing of the Major, or the elaborate dinners and liberal entertainments at Daleford House; a greater inducement than all this to renew his visits dwelt in the bright eyes and smiling face of Katie Morrison, for whom Percy Dalton cared a great deal more at this time than he wished his friends to believe, more even than he believed himself.

It is possible, that had both the sisters been at Daleford House, Percy might have escaped his destiny for a time; but Mary was absent, with a distant relation, and would not rejoin her sister and Uncle, until after their return to town.

Frequent and oft-repeated visits to Daleford House, archery meetings, and pic-nics, in sight of the golden corn-fields of our fairest county, long evenings spent over the piano and harp, all these combinations of pleasant circumstances quickly brought Percy Dalton to that state of mind when people begin to look long at the moon on retiring to bed at night, and to write bad verses, wherein the facile rhymes 'trees and breeze,' 'silver light and silent night,' are made to do duty in every other line. Alas! for human expectations! Just when Dalton was in ecstacies of delight at his good fortune, and thought 'good, easy man,' that his fortunes were a ripening,' in very truth,—Puff! a word of the Major's blows away his rose-tinted chateau en Espagne, and he has said 'good bye,' in an ordinary tone of voice, and seen them to the railway carriage, before he can collect his senses and feel the full extent of his bereavement. However, the Major has said, “Remember, Mr. Dalton, we shall always be glad to see you at Twickenham ;" and with this invitation to comfort him, Percy was obliged to remain, kept much against his inclination by matters of business, and as men usually do under such circumstances, took every opportunity of making himself supremely miserable, and began to think that calling Kent 'the garden of England' was a piece of utter absurdity.

At length, however, the wished-for time of departure arrived, and my friend returned to London, and thence proceeded as soon as possible to Twickenham. He found that the Major resided in a pretty villa, whose well-kept garden sloped down to the bright

waters of the Thames, looking as unlike as possible to the black grimy river which rolls under London Bridge. Major Morrison received Percy very warmly, but was soon obliged to take his departure to town, leaving Kate to entertain her visitor, an arrangement which the said visitor highly approved of. Once more alone with the charming being who had turned quiet sensible Percy Dalton into a dreamer and wholesale waster of time, my friend felt all his love rushing up in an ungovernable stream; but, as often happens under similar circumstances, his flow of words was by no means abundant : in fact, Percy stammered, hesitated, and talked common-places to such a degree, that the fair Kate began to be quite vexed with her lover's stupidity, and rose to summon her sister; but the fates had determined other things for Percy Dalton than to be introduced on that occasion to Mary Morrison; she had gone out for a short stroll, the servant said, and Percy, after summoning up all his courage to make a tender speech at parting, and having failed miserably, took his leave, very little satisfied with his visit, and more in love than

ever.

Some days passed, which were dies non to Percy, except one, when he saw, as he believed, Kate Morrison riding in the Park, attended only by a servant. He was very near to the lady, and could not but be surprised by her manner of returning his bow. She started, flushed crimson, and nearly losing the reins in her agitation, her horse swerved violently, and then set off at a sharp canter which the rider had some difficulty in checking.

"Very odd, this," thought Percy; "she must have been startled at my sudden appearance, or else she can't be accustomed to meet friends when riding. However, it's a favourable symptom, I trust!" Meantime the lady pursued her ride, and on reaching home the groom remarked,—

"I think you must have dropped your reins, Miss Mary, in the Park; I never saw the mare start off like that before!"

"Yes, it was my fault, Thomas," answered the young lady, in some confusion; "poor Bessie is not to blame."

Mary Morrison retired at once to her own room, a pretty little boudoir, from the windows of which, fringed with the latest blossoms of the climbing roses, she could see the silver river winding its silent way along its green banks.

The young lady's agitation was now very evident; her cheek was pale, and her hand trembled as she drew a letter from her pocket, a letter which had been put privately into her hand that morning, and the contents of which were these:

"DEAREST MARY,

"Liverpool.

"I cannot forbear writing to you, even at the risk of your displeasure, and the still greater risk of detection; my one and only excuse is that I am once more in England, once more in the same land with her for whom I live! I shall try to see you, dearest, the day after will receive this letter. If the business of my em

you

ployers can be transacted in one day, as I doubt not it will be, I shall once more have the inexpressible delight of gazing on the face which has been my only vision of happiness during my stay in India. Try, dearest Mary, to arrange a meeting towards five o'clock in the afternoon, near the old hawthorn walk in the garden.

“Ever, my dearest Mary, your most devoted,

"EDWARD OAKLEY.”

66

"So soon-so unexpectedly !" murmured Mary, half aloud, as she read this letter for the twentieth time at least ; but my eyes must have deceived me to day; it is impossible; my brain must be turned by this sudden news."

It was with feverish anxiety that Mary Morrison awaited the following day; all the morning she was busy in contriving plans to remove the worthy Major from the scene of action; with her sister she had a half confidence, but had never fully disclosed her secret, the only one which was preserved between the sisters.

Major Morrison innocently frustrated several wily stratagems of his niece, who had suggested that he looked poorly, and ought to ride out towards Hampton Court for an airing: No, the Major said he never had felt better in his life, and didn't care to ride while the close weather lasted. Mary was in despair, when at last a visitor arrived to lunch, who insisted upon taking the whole party back in his carriage to inaugurate the game of croquet which his daughters had just become acquainted with. Mary with difficulty excused herself on the plea of a headache, and had the satisfaction of seeing the Major and Kate depart in the chariot of the parental fosterer of croquet.

Towards the appointed time Mary entered the garden, and with hasty steps and flushed cheek paced up and down the hawthorn walk, which was screened from the house by a thick hedge. Nearly two years had passed since Edward Oakley had sailed for India. He had before that time been a frequent visitor at the Morrison's house, but although the Major had treated him with politeness and attention, he by no means approved of the marked attention which Oakley bestowed upon his niece Mary, and the young man's departure for India to attend to some business connected with his father's large and flourishing firm was looked on by Major Morrison as a very excellent measure, calculated to save a great deal of trouble and annoyance to himself and every one else.

Meantime Percy Dalton had felt, or pretended that he felt so uneasy at Miss Morrison's alarm on the previous day, that nothing short of a visit to Twickenham could calm the state of anxiety under which he laboured. He accordingly started by an afternoon train from London, and, as if some mischievous Puck had so arranged it, he approached the dwelling of the Morrisons a few minutes before five o'clock.

On arriving at the garden gate he at once beheld a lady, whom he recognised as the fair equestrian of the previous day. On per

ceiving Dalton, she uttered a half-surprised cry, blushed crimson, and hastened towards him. Such an open demonstration was not to be mistaken. Dalton flung open the gate, darted to her side, and clasped her hand with all the ardour of a lover.

"I trust,” he said, after a few moments of very expressive silence, "I trust that you were not ill yesterday; I fear I startled your horse!" "No, not ill-only surprised, a little agitated at your sudden. apparition!" replied Mary. "But come," she added, seeing that her lover was silent; "you must have so much to tell me that has passed since our last meeting!"

It was but a week, thought Percy, but answered,

"My life is not an eventful one, and apart from you it is a blank." After taking a few more turns in the path, during which Mary had made up her mind that India had considerably altered her lover, both in manner and appearance; poor Percy, who had been screwing up his courage to the sticking point, at length said rather abruptly,

"Miss Morrison, we have known each other long enough for you to have seen that my feelings towards you are not those of a mere friend,- —one who comes and goes, sees you, and perhaps never thinks of you until the next meeting; during the time I have known you you have taken a fixed place in the heart of one, who although all unworthy of you, cannot exist longer in suspense. Tell me my fate now; if you delay, you are but being cruel to be kind !"

After making this speech, which was not so bad considering Percy's previous remarks, he managed to elicit a very favourable response from the young lady, who however dwelt strongly on her Uncle's consent being necessary, and not very easy to obtain. "Never fear, dearest; " exclaimed the now enthusiastic Percy ;" he has never shown himself other than friendly towards me, and tomorrow if you will let me, I will come and put the case before him in such a light, that I think I shall take his defences by a coup de main?"

So it was arranged, and Percy departed in a state of delightful insanity which led him to perpetrate unheard-of absurdities, among which was the presentation of half a sovereign to the railway porter, full in front of the company's regulations to the contrary. On the following day Percy Dalton presented himself at the house which had become his magnet of attraction, and enquired for the Major and the young ladies. He was told that the Major was out, but was expected home shortly; that Miss Mary was engaged with a visitor, but that Miss Kate would receive him. On entering the drawing-room which was divided from a front room by closed folding doors, Percy was received by Kate, though by no means so enthusiastically as he expected; in fact, the memory of the previous day seemed to have quite evaporated.

"We have not seen you for some time, Mr. Dalton; we thought you were going to desert us," were the first words which greeted the astonished Percy.

"Miss Morrison, Katie, may I not call you so? Can you have for

gotten our conversation of yesterday? Surely you are bent upon teazing to-day ?"

The undisguised surprise with which Kate opened her dark eyes mystified Dalton still more.

"I am at a loss to understand you," she said; "if you are joking, the jest seems to me a very poor one!"

"Good Heavens, Miss Morrison! What can be the meaning of your sudden change to me? Did you not only yesterday listen to my earnest suit, and agree that I should to day ask your Uncle's consent to our union?

Kate Morrison's fair cheek crimsoned with displeasure at what she considered Percy's unwarranted impertinence; rising haughtily, she said, "You presume, Sir, upon the influence you imagine you have exercised over me; I have been weak enough to show my folly, but I am strong enough to tell you that I find I have mistaken you for an honourable man and a gentleman, and that from this time we must be strangers!

She moved towards the door. Percy had sprang to his feet to hazard an explanation, when a merry peal of laughter was heard from the adjoining room, the folding doors were thrown open, and Mary Morrison entered, accompanied by a gentleman who shaded his face with his hand, as though the light affected him. Percy Dalton stood like one thunderstruck, for side by side the sisters were so exactly alike, that but for the angry flush which still flitted across Kate's fair cheek he could not have distinguished them.

In a moment the truth flashed upon him; he had made his declaration to the wrong sister.

"Miss Mary, for Heaven's sake explain this contre-temps," said poor Percy.

"I will," replied Mary, laughing, and rather confused; "we have been playing a second Comedy of Errors,' and the denouement might have ended in a tragedy. This comes, my dear Kate, of not trusting each other with our secrets; we both concealed our little romance, and now it has grown into a perfect maze of confusion. Allow me, in the first place, to introduce Mr. Edward Oakley to you, Mr. Dalton; though, by-the-bye, I have not yet been introduced to Mr. Dalton myself.'

The stranger approached, and Percy, who had started on hearing his name, exclaimed, "What, Oakley! My 'other-self,' as you were called at school! now the whole mystery is clear!"

Explanations followed, and Kate, who for a time pretended to be greatly offended at her lover's want of perception, at length consented to ratify the agreement into which her sister had entered for her, while Oakley prevailed upon Mary to make a new one in his favour.

The Major on his arrival insisted upon both gentlemen staying to dinner, and when the ladies had retired, the old gentleman was brought to the very brink of apoplexy by the recital of the lovers' mistakes.