tune might one day fall in love with one another; ignorance. But, indeed, I was perplexed what to but it was not to be, for, as they grew up, I saw that there was no thought of more than a common friendly love between them; and, indeed, boys of one-and-twenty are generally occupied with other things than falling in love, and girls of seventeen, I think, generally suppose that one-and-twenty is too young for them to have anything to do with, as no doubt it very often is. So they remained friends, and nothing more.

It

do, for he and I were almost never alone, and in the state in which matters were yet between him and Fortune, it would have been premature and even indelicate to ask Mrs. Beresford to interfere. There was only one opportunity I had for speaking to him, and that I lost. I remember that day well. My father and Fortune had gone after dinner to my sister Kate's, expecting to be back in an hour, and when the hour had nearly elapsed Nevill came I remember well Arthur Beresford's return from in alone, bringing a request that they would return college two or three months before he came of age, with him to spend the evening at the Beresfords. and how, on the day after-a bright June morn- I thought they would soon be in, so he willingly ing it was-he burst into our drawing-room, with agreed to wait; and sitting beside me at the open the gay exclamation, "Here I am, Aunt Dinah, window he presently began-it was the first time and free for the next four months!" and coming he had ever done so-to talk of Fortune. up to me, took both my hands in his, and looked was strange; without a word of preparation or so gay, and so happy, and so handsome, that it introduction, he spoke of her as only one who did me good only to look at him. He was in very loved her could speak. For a moment I was high spirits, indeed, for not only had he gained startled; then I fell into his tone, and I too talked his freedom, as he called it, but he had succeeded of my child as I could have done to few but him. in bringing back with him his cousin, Nevill Erl- There was no explanation between us, but each ington, a fellow and tutor at Oxford, who had done read the other's heart fully and perfectly. And him, so he said, such services during his career yet, not even then did I tell him Fortune's story. there, that had it not been for him he should I longed to do it-it was on my lips again and never have been the happy fellow he was there, again-but I was expecting her return with my which, whether it was as true as he thought it or father every moment, and I feared to be internot, I liked the boy for saying and thinking. rupted when I had once begun. So the time went And one or two days afterwards, Nevill Erling-past, and I was vexed with myself, when it was ton came with Mr. Beresford and Arthur to call on gone, that my tale was still untold. us. He was six or seven years older than Arthur, and neither so lively nor so handsome, but he had a firm, broad, thoughtful brow, and deep lustrous eyes, and a voice so deep, and rich, and soft, that it was like the sound of music to hear him speak. I liked him from the first-we all did-and it was not long before he became an almost daily visitor at our house, coming sometimes alone, on the excuse I knew it was but an excuse-of bringing us books, or news, or some such thing, but more often with one or other of the Beresfords. Indeed, after a little time I knew that I, for one, fell quite into a habit of missing him if ever a day passed without his coming, for his quiet, gentle presence had in it a great charm to me, and he had fallen so kindly and naturally into my ways, that I had felt, almost from the first day, that he was not a stranger but a friend.

Though it was after sunset when they came in, Nevill persuaded them still to accompany him back. I remember well his warm though silent farewell to me that night. I remember, too, when they were all away, how long I lay and thought in the summer twilight. I ought to have been glad, and I was glad, but yet some low sad voice, that I thought I had hushed to silence years ago forever, would awake in my heart again, making me break the beauty of that summer evening with my rebellious tears. It was only for a little time, for I, who had been so happy, what right had I to weep because some hopes had died? I pressed my tears back, praying to be forgiven, and soon the soft stillness of the night calmed me, and I thought again of my dear child and eagerly and hopefully as ever I had done when I was young, I dreamed bright dreams for her future life. When I was young! I was but nine-and-twenty now, yet how far back my youth seemed! Strange; there was scarcely two years between me and Nevill, yet how everyone-how he, how I myself-looked on me as old compared with him!

Nor was I the only one who watched for his daily visits, or felt lonely when he did not come. My dear child seldom spoke much of him when he was away; even when he was with us she was often very quiet, but I knew soon that in both their hearts a deep, true love was growing up, and It was late when they came home that night, that my darling would one day be Nevill's wife. and I thought my darling looked sad-I had And he deserved her, and she him. Timid as she thought so once or twice of late. She slept in a was now, I knew that it would not be always sɔ; room opening from mine; and always came the I knew that, presently, when all was understood last thing to say good-night to me. To-night, between them, her present reserve would pass when she came, I was grieved, for she looked as away, and my Fortune, as she really was, with if she had been weeping. She stood beside my her bright, sunny gayety, with her graceful, hop-couch-the light from behind that streamed ing woman's nature, with her deeply-loving, faithful heart, would stand beside him, to illumine and to brighten his whole life. Such happy days those were while these two young hearts were drawing to each other-happy to them and me, though over my joy there was still one little cloud.

Mr. and Mrs. Beresford were the only persons amongst our new friends to whom I had told my Fortune's story. I did not feel that it was a thing I needed to tell to every one; but now I was anxious that Nevill should know it, and felt uneasy as day after day passed, and kept him still in

through the opened door falling on her bright, unbound hair, and also herself looking so pure and beautiful-my own Forture! I kept her a few minutes by me, for I longed to cheer her; but she did not seem to care much to talk. I said something about Nevill, and she asked if he had been long here before they came.

"About an hour," I said.

"Ah! I am glad," she answered. "I was afraid my poor aunty had been alone the whole night. It was kind of him."

"Yes, he is always kind, dear," I said.

Which she did not answer, but smiled gently to herself, and stood in silence, with my hand in hers; then suddenly she frightened me, for, quickly stooping down, she laid her head upon my shoulder, and I felt her sobbing. At first she would not tell ine why she wept, but whispered through her tears that it would grieve me; that I should think she was ungrateful-I, who had been so good to her, and loved her so well always. But when I pressed her earnestly, it came at last. It was because through the wide world she knew not where to seek for a father or a mother; because to the very name she bore she had no claim; because to all but us, she said, her life had ever been a deceit, and was so still; because she felt so humbled before those she loved, knowing that she had no right they should be true to her whose first step had been a falsehood to them.

She told me this, pouring it out rapidly-passionately; and I understood it all, and far more than she told me. Alas! I might have guessed it all before.

I comforted her as I could. I told her that her first grief she must bear still-hopefully, if she could; that for the rest she should not sorrow any longer, for all whose love she cared for should know what her history was. I told her to have courage, and I thanked her earnestly, and truly, for how she had spoken to me then; and presently, weeping still, but happier and full of love, my darling left me-left me to weep, because a grief I should have known would come, had fallen on

me.

group that had gathered together, there came a loud call to play at forfeits; and, in two or three moments, all were busy gathering pretty things together to pour into Fortune's lap; and then they merrily began the game, and laughed and clapped their hands with delight as each holder of a forfeit was proclaimed.

The most uproarious laughter had just been excited by Nevill's performance of some penalty allotted to him; and then I recollect well how he came, looking very happy, to kneel at Fortune's feet and deliver the next sentence. She held up a little ring; and, when she asked the usual question, what the possessor of it was to do, he answered gayly,

"To give us his autobiography."

There was a pause for a moment, while they waited for Fortune to declare whose the forfeit was, but she did not speak, for the ring was hers. Nevill had risen from his knees, and, seeing it, he exclaimed laughing, for he knew it,

"What, Miss Wildred, has this fallen to your lot?"

She looked up hurriedly from him to me, and said, "Aunt Dinah," quickly, as if to ask me to speak. But, before I had opened my lips, Mrs. Beresford came forward, and said kindly,

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Nevill, I think it will be hardly fair to press this forfeit. We can't expect young ladies to be willing to declare their autobiographies in public, you know."

I interrupted Nevill, and answered,

"But if you will take my account of Fortune's life instead of calling on her for her own, I think I can answer for her willingness to let you hear it. Shall it be so, Mr. Erlington?"

But he was eager that it should be passed over, was even vexed that any word had been said about it at all. I understood his delicacy well, and thanked him for it in my heart; but I knew what my child's wish was, so I would not do what he asked me, but promised that when the children were away the story should be told; and then the

I said that the Beresfords were landed proprietors, and Arthur was their only son; so his coming of age was to be a great day. Of course, I very seldom moved from home; but it had long been a promise that on this occasion we were to spend a week with them, and the time was now close at hand; indeed, it was on the second day, I think, after I had had this talk with my child, that our visit was to begin. So, early on that day, we went. I have not mentioned that, for the last fortnight, besides Nevill, the Beresfords had had other visit-game went on. ors with them-a brother of Mrs. Beresford's-a It was past ten o'clock when they gathered Colonel Haughton, with his wife and their two children, a little boy and girl. They had just returned from India, where, indeed, Mrs. Haughton had lived many years. She was in delicate health, and did not go out much, so that she was as yet almost a stranger to me; but the little I had seen of her, and all that Fortune had told me about her, pleased me so much that I was not at all sorry for this opportunity of knowing more of her. There was something graceful and winning in her manner, indeed, that prepossessed most people in her favor, and there was much, both of beauty and refinement, in her face.

It was the day after we came, and a kind of preliminary excitement was through the house, for the next morning was to usher in Arthur's birthday; and to-day Mrs. Beresford was giving a large children's party, expressly in honor of little Agnes and Henry Haughton. I think we had every child for six or seven miles round assembled together; and there had been music and dancing, and a ceaseless peal of merry voices all through the long summer evening, and everybody looked gay and happy, and all went well, for not a few of the elder ones had turned themselves into children too for the time to aid them in their games.

It was growing late, and even the lightest feet began to long for a little rest, when, from one large

round me to hear my child's history. There was no one there but the Beresfords, and the Haughtons, and Nevill, and ourselves. I saw that my poor child was agitated, but I would not have her either know that I guessed she was so, or that I shared her agitation, so I took out my knitting, and began working away very quietly as I talked, just glancing up now and then into one or other of my hearers' faces-into Nevill's oftenest, because there was that in the earnest look he fixed on me, which seemed to ask it more than the rest.

There was not really very much to tell, and I had gone on without interruption nearly to the end, and was just telling them how I called her Fortune because we thought the name she said she had so strange, when, as I said the word "Willie," a sudden cry rang through the room.

It fell upon my heart with a strange terror, and in an instant every eye was turned to whence it came.

Pale as death, her figure eagerly bent forward, her hand grasping Fortune's shoulder, Mrs. Haughton sat. From my child's cheek, too, all color had fled; motionless, like two marble figures, they fronted one another; their eyes fixed on each other's faces, with a wild hope, a wild doubt in each; it lasted but a moment, then both, as by one impulse, rose. Mrs. Haughton stretched out

her hands. "Mother!" burst from Fortune's lips. I that quiet sound; and, lying there alone, I prayed There was a passionate sob, and they were wrap- that I might have strength to rejoice, and not to ped in one another's arms. mourn at all, and then after a long time I grew quite calm, and waited quietly.

I saw like one in a dream-not feeling, not understanding, not believing. A giddiness came over me; a sudden dimness before my eyes; a feeling of deadly sickness, as we feel when we are fainting. There began to be a buzz of voices, but I could distinguish nothing clearly until I heard my own name spoken.

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Dinah," my father was saying hurriedly, "you have that little portrait-give it to me."

My darling came at last, but not alone. Her mother entered the room with her, and they came together, hand in hand, up to my couch, and stood beside me, with the moonlight falling on them and shining on my child's white dress, as if it was a robe of silver. We spoke little, but from Mrs. Haughton's lips there fell a few most gentle, earnest, loving words, which sank into my heart, and gladdened me; and then she left me with my

I roused myself by a great effort, and, taking the locket from my bosom, put it in his hand. An-child, alone. other moment, and there was a second cry; but this time it was a cry only of joy.

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Yes, yes!" I heard Mrs. Haughton passionately saying, in a voice all broken with emotion, "I knew it, I knew it! It is my child-my Willie-my little Willie!" and she pressed the portrait to her lips, and looked on it as even I had scarcely ever done.

Ah! I needed no other proofs. I needed nothing more than that one look to tell me I had lost my child.

Mrs. Haughton had sunk upon her seat again, and my darling was kneeling at her feet, clasping her hand, and weeping. They spoke no more; they, nor any one; then, when a minute or two had passed, Colonel Haughton raised my child kindly from the ground, and, placing her mother's hand again in hers, led them silently together from the room.

My darling clung around my neck and wept, and, calmer now myself, I poured out all my love upon her, and soothed her as I could, and then we talked together, and she told me all her joy. And there were some words that she said that night that I have never since forgotten, nor ever will forget-words that have cheered me often sincethat live in my heart now, beautiful, distinct, and clear as when she spoke them first. God bless her-my own child!]

Brightly as ever the sun rose upon an August morning, did his first rays beam through our windows to welcome Arthur's birthday. There was nothing but joy throughout the house, and happy faces welcoming each other, and gay voices, and merry laughter, making the roof ring. There are a few days in our lives which stand out from all others we have ever known; days on which it seems to us as if the flood of sunlight round us is I closed my eyes and turned away, but still the gilded with so bright a glory, that even the comtears would force their way through the closed monest things on which it falls glow with a lids upon my cheek. And as I wept, feeling-beauty we never felt before; days on which the that night I could not help it-so lonely and so fresh breeze passing over us, and sweeping through sad, a warm, firm clasp came gently and closed the green leaves overhead, whispers ever to us to upon my hand. It was Nevill who was standing by my side, and as I felt that friendly pressure, and met the look that was bent upon me, I knew that there was one, at least, who, rejoicing in my Fortune's joy, could yet feel sympathy for me.

cast all sorrow from our hearts, for that, in the great world around us, there is infinite joy, and happiness, and love. Such a day was this; and bright and beautiful, with the blue clear sky, with the golden sunbeams, with the light, laughing wind, it rises in my memory now-a day never to be forgotten.

It was not long before Colonel Haughton came back, and from him we learnt all that there was to tell. Mrs. Haughton, when very young, had I was not very strong, and in the afternoon I married a Captain Moreton and accompanied him had my couch moved into one of the quiet rooms, to India, where my child was born, and called and lay there resting, with only the distant sound after her mother Wilhelmina. But she was deli- of gay voices reaching me now and then, and cate, and the doctors said that the Indian climate everything else quite still. I had not seen much would kill her; so, before she was two years old, of my child during the morning, but I knew that they were forced to send her to England, to rela- she was happy, so I was quite content. And, tions in the north. An English servant was sent indeed, I too, myself, was very happy, for the sunin charge of her, and both were committed to the light seemed to have pierced into my heart, and I care of an intimate friend of theirs who was re-felt so grateful, and so willing that all should be turning to England in the same vessel; but the as it was.

lady died during the passage, and neither of child I had lain there alone about half an hour, when nor nurse were there ever more any tidings heard, I heard steps upon the garden walk without. The except the solitary fact-which the captain proved head of my couch was turned from the window, so -that they did arrive in England. It was fifteen I could not easily see who it was, but in a few years ago. The woman had money with her be- moments they came near, and Fortune and Nevill longing to Mrs. Haughton, as well as the whole entered the room by the low open window. of the child's wardrobe; quite enough to tempt her to dishonesty.

And such was the history of my Fortune's birth.

and

I went away as soon as I could to my room, lay there waiting for my child; for I knew that she would come. The moonlight streamed in brightly and softly, and the shadow of the trees without the window came and waved upon my couch, rocking gently to and fro, with a low music, like a song of rest. It stilled my heart,

"I was longing to see my child," I said softly, and with a few loving words she bent her head down over me, kissing me quickly many times.

Nevill stood by her side, and smiling, asked :"Will you not give me a welcome too?" I said warmly, for I am sure I felt it, "You know that you are always welcome." He pressed my hand; and after a moment's pause, half seriously and half gayly, he went on

"Aunt Dinah, I have come to ask a boon-the

From Chambers' Journal.

THE ENGLISH REGICIDES IN AMERICA.

own day; and it was only a few years ago, on the banks of the pleasant Kennebec, that a fair descendant of the redoubtable Captain Church, related to the writer the foregoing legend as an indisputable instance of a supernatural dispensation of Providence.

The story, however, is a historical fact, and, latterly, has embellished more than one popular work of fiction. Sir Walter Scott, who allowed little to escape him, alludes to it in Peveril of the Peak; Cooper has made use of it in The Borderers; and Oliver Newman, the last poem of Southey, is partly founded on the eventful history of William Goffe, the delivering angel of the inhabitants of Hadley.

toration was evidently close at hand, Goffe, well knowing that England would no longer be a place of safety for him, left Westminster early in the May of 1660, and, accompanied by Edward Whalley, his father-in-law, embarked for Boston.

ONE of the most interesting incidents in the early history of New England, is the deliverance of the frontier town of Hadley from an attack of a barbarous native tribe. The Indian war of King Philip the saddest page in the annals of the colonies-had just commenced; and the inhabitants of Hadley, alarmed by the threatening aspect of the times, had, on the 1st of September, 1675, assembled in their humble place of worship, to implore the aid of the Almighty, and to humble themselves before Him in a solemn fast. All at once, the terrible war-whoop was heard, and the church surrounded by a blood-thirsty band of sav- Goffe, son of the rector of Tranmere, in Sussex, ages; while the infant, the aged, the bedridden was, in early life, apprenticed to a drysalter in all who had been unable to attend service, were at London; but the stirring events of the great the mercy of the tomahawk and scalping-knife. civil war soon drew him from so obscure a position. At that period, so uncertain were the movements Joining the parliamentary army, he rose in a short of the Indians, that it was customary for a select time to the rank of colonel, and gained the entire number of the stoutest and bravest among the confidence of Cromwell. He was one of those dwellers in the frontier towns to carry their bold men who presumed to sit in judgment on their weapons with them, even to the house of prayer; sovereign, and condemn him to the scaffold and and now, in consternation and confusion, these the block. He commanded Cromwell's own regiarmed men of Hadley sallied forth to defend them- ment at the battle of Dunbar, and "at push of selves and families. But, unfortunately, the attack pike repelled the stoutest regiment the enemy had had been too sudden and well-planned; the Indians there." Subsequently, he became major-general, had partly gained possession of the town before and obtained a seat in the Protector's House of they surrounded the church; and, posted on every Peers. After the death of Cromwell, when the resspot of vantage-ground, their bullets told with fatal effect upon the bewildered and disheartened colonists. At this crisis, there suddenly appeared among them a man, tall and erect of stature, calm and venerable in aspect, with long gray hair falling on his shoulders. Rallying the retreating townsmen, he issued brief and distinct orders in a commanding voice, and with cool and soldierly precision. The powerful influence which, in moments of peril and difficulty, a master-mind assumes over his less gifted fellows, was well exemplified on this occasion. The stranger's commands were implicitly obeyed by men who, until that instant, had never seen him. He divided the colonists into two bodies; placing one in the most advantageous and sheltered position, to return the fire of the enemy, and hold them in check, while the other, by a circuitous route, he led, under cover of the smoke, to a desperate charge on the Indian rear. The Red Men, thus surprised in turn, and placed between two fires, were immediately defeated and put to flight, leaving many of their painted warriors dead upon the field; and the town of Hadley was thus saved from conflagration, and its inhabitants from massacre. The first moments after the unexpected victory were passed in anxious inquiries, affectionate meetings, and heartfelt congratulations; then followed thanks and praise to God, and then the deliverer was eagerly sought for. Where was he? All had seen him an instant before; but now he had disappeared; nor was he ever seen again. One or two among the people could have told who he was, but they prudently held their peace.

Amid the dense forests and mighty rivers of America, the stern piety of the Puritans had acquired an imaginative cast, almost unknown in the mother-country; and thus unable to account for the sudden advent and disappearance of the delivering stranger, the people of Hadley believed that he was an angel sent from God, in answer to their prayers, to rescue them from the heathen enemy. With the traditions of the Indian war of 1675, that belief has been handed down to our

Whalley was first-cousin to Cromwell, and early distinguished himself in the civil war. At Naseby, he charged and defeated two divisions of Langdale's horse, though they were supported by Prince Rupert. In the west, he defeated "the dissolute Goring," and did good service at the siege of Bristol. He had charge of the king at Hampton Court; sat in judgment on him in Westminster Hall; and the name of Whalley stands fourth in the list of signatures attached to the death-warrant of Charles. At Dunbar, Major-General Whalley had his horse shot under him; yet, though wounded, he continued in pursuit of the flying enemy. When Cromweil dissolved the first protectorate parliament, it was Whalley who carried off the mace; and, lastly, we read of him sitting in the Upper House as one of the Lord Protector's peers.

On their arrival in Boston, in June, Goffe and Whalley were well received, and treated, by Governor Endicot and the leading men of the colony, according to the rank they had held in England. But as the news of the proclamation of Charles II. came out in the same ship with them, they having heard it in the Channel, it was considered prudent that they should retire to the village of Cambridge, now a suburb of Boston. As an illustration of the feelings of the colonists towards them, it is worth noticing, that a person who had insulted the Regicides was bound over to keep the peace, although, at the same time in London, a reward of £100 was offered for their heads. A New England tradition of Goffe at this period is still current, and therefore claims recital, although we have doubts of the ex-major-general placing himself in so undignified a position. A European master of fence, it is said, had arrived in the colony, and, in order to exhibit his skill in the