\"your beauty was the first that won the place,and scal\"d the walls of my undaunted heart,which, captive now, pines in a caitive case,unkindly met with rigour for desert;-yet not the less your servant shall abide,

in spite of rude repulse or silent pride.\"

william fowler.

the next morning, margaret dragged herself up, thankful that the nightwas over,--unrefreshed, yet rested. all had gone well through the house;her mother had only wakened once. a little breeze was stirring in thehot air, and though there were no trees to show the playful tossingmovement caused by the wind among the leāves, margaret knew how,somewhere or another, by way-side, in copses, or in thick green woods,there was a pleasant, murmuring, dancing sound,--a rushing and fallingnoise, the very thought of which was an echo of distant gladness in herheart.

she sat at her work in mrs. hale\"s room. as soon as that fore-noonslumber was over, she would help her mother to dress after. dinner, shewould go and see bessy higgins. she would banish all recollection ofthe thornton family,--no need to think of them till they absolutely stoodbefore her in flesh and blood. but, of course, the effort not to think ofthem brought them only the more strongly before her; and from time totime, the hot flush came over her pale face sweeping it into colour, as asunbeam from between watery clouds es swiftly moving over thesea.

dixon opened the door very softly, and stole on tiptoe up to margaret,sitting by the shaded window.

\"mr. thornton, miss margaret. he is in the drawing-room.\"

margaret dropped her sewing.

\"did he ask for me? isn\"t papa e in?\"

\"he asked for you, miss; and master is out.\"

\"very well, i will e,\" said margaret, quietly. but she lingeredstrangely.