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They will be entitled to 4 .ltimn, confined exclusively to their business, with I privilege of change. 50- Advertising in all cases exclusive of sub f scription to the paper. JOB PRINTING of every kind in Plain andFan f colors, done with neatness and dispatch. Hand f yi s Blanks, Cards, Pamphlets, Ac., of ever}- va [ nrtv and style, printed at the shortest notice. The KRPOSTER OFFICE has just been re-fitted with Power Presses, and every thing in the Printing line can | IM . executed in the most artistic manner and at the I lowest rates. TERMS INVARIABLY CASH. j j 1 | ! ' j ffkfteti f£orin}. I. XO." Would you learn the bravest thing That man can ever do? Would you be the uuerowned king, Absolute and true? Would you seek to emulate All we learn in story Of the mortal, just, and great. Rich in real glory? Would yon lose much bitter care In vonr lot below ? Bravely speak out, wheivand where 'Tis RIOHT to utter "No." Von with kindly spirits blessed, * Willing to do right, Von who stand with wavering breast. Beneath Persuasion's might. When companions seek to taunt Judgment into sin— When the loud laugh fain would daunt Your better voice within— i >h, beware 1 you'll never meet More insidious toe : But strike the coward to your feet, By reuson's watchword, "No." tii' how many thorns we wreathe To twine our brows around. li\ not knowing when to breathe This important sound! Many a heart has rued the day Wlieu it reckoned less i it traits upon the moral "Nay," Than flowers upon the "Yes :' Many a sad repentant thought, Fums to "long ago," \\ hen a luckless fate was wrought By want of saying "No." Too few have learned to speak this word When it SHOULD be spoken : Resolntion is deferred. Vows to virtue broken ; More of courage is required. This one word to say, Than to stand where shots are fired In the battle fray. I'se it fitly, and you'll see Many a lot below May be schooled and nobly ruled With power to utter "No." .fclcct Sale. [From London Society. ] ROSE BLACKETT AND HER LOVERS, " Yes, I suppose it is a good thing,'' said Fred Whitfield, yawning, a little indiffer ently, considering the occasion. " You see ray mother made it up, so that I don't take much credit to myself in the matter I dare say 1 might have gone in and won on my own hook if I had liked ; but I left it all to the old lady. She likes managing. So she and Mrs. Blackett laid their heads together, and Rose and I said yes." " Well, Fred, you certainly are the most extraordinary fellow," said his friend, laugh ing ; ' I don't think many people would imagine you were speaking of your mar riage." " Dessay not," returned Fred. " People go in for such a jolly lot of bosh on those occasions; they cannot, understand that one should have any common sense in the matter Time's gone by for blisses and kisses, and Cupids and arrows, and all that rubbish ; and it's all very well, you know, to like the girl yi u are going to marry—but hang it til! one needn't make a fool of oneself about it! 1 like Rose Blackett very well. •"die's a nice gitl enough ; no nonsense about her ; can ride well, which is some thing, and plays croquet first-rate ; she is good tempered, and, 1 am thankful to say, without .sentimentality ; so we hit it off ex actly ; but as for being over head and ears in love, and all that stuff', I'm far to used up tor anything of the kind, and she is too sensible. We marry because our mothers wish it, and because—as they wish it—we might as well marry each other as any one else. 1 can't say I particularly want to marry any one ; but I suppose 1 must do my duty that way ; and so you see I do it." "All very well, Master Fred ; but I can not say 1 think you are in a proper frameof mind," said Harvy Wynn, " and 1 only hope that when I am going to be married I shall be over head and ears in love with my wife. I don't think I would let my mother make up a marriage for me, however sensi ble in its outlines." "Ah ! but then you are such a deuced ro mantic fellow," laughed Fred. " Now you see 1 ha\w gone through all that, and have come out on the other side ; aud so I save myself no end of trouble and anxiety ; and let me tell you, that is no contemptible thing to do in life, if you can." " Jest so," said Harvy; "and by that reasoning the more nearly we get down to oysterdom the wiser our philosophy." " Not a bad idea, Harvy. An oyster must have a jolly time of it till he's caught. And even then—we are all caught some time or other ; so what does it matter ?" ' Not much, perhaps ; but I cannot say I like the oyster theory. 1 like to live up to the lullest of my powers while I do live, and when I have worn myself out, then it ls time to die. But vegetation, social or ' motional, does not suit me." All the result of temperament and or ganization, my dear fellow," said Fred, lan guidly ; " you see you have a big heart and big lungs and big muscles and a big brain, and are a son of Anak altogether. I have a weak heart and weak lungs, and more nerves than muscles, and an irritable brain iHiich has to be kept quiet by the never-to bc-suflieient-pi aised nicotine ; and so emo tion ami excitement and all that sort of ' nng bore me to death , and in fact, I ain not up to them, and that's just it." One would think you were a poor little miserable starveling to hear you talk," E. O. GOODRICH, Publisher. VOLUME XXV. shouted Harvy. " A six foot light-guards-' man not 'up' to anything ! and the best cricketer and boldest rider to hounds in the country ! Who is talking bosh now, Fred?" " Perhaps I am, and perhaps you are ; but it's too much trouble to decide," yawned Fred, lazily. And Harvy knew that when his friend culminated to this point, there was no good in talking to him any more. Fred was on the cui bono school ; good-hearted and hon orable, generous, brave, affectionate in grain ; but he had spoiled himself by the affectation of indifference, by pretending to be so terribly superior to all the weaknes ses of enthusiasm or emotion, and by mak ing believe—and it was only make-believe —that there was nothing in life worth liv ing for. In aid of which philosophy he had put on a lazy, lounging, careless manner,in expressibly annoying to earnest and ener getic people, maintaining that the culture of nicotine, as he called it, was the only thing worth a sensible mau's devotion ; though he added a kind of bye alter to Bass. ilis friend Harvy Wynn was a very diff erent kind of person. Tall, muscular, i broadly proportioned, his face not hand j some so much as honest and strong —(Fred Whitfield was allowed to be the handsom est man in the county, aud the most ele gant in appearance and manners—when he chose) —full of life and spirits and animal energy and vigorous thought, impassioned in a strong manly way, and romantic too, always in earnest, and never frivolous — surel}' it was only by the law of contrast that lie was the friend of languid, used-up, affected Fred—only by the theory of com pensation that the conventional club-man about town found anything harmonious in the country doctor who took life in heroic doses, and even then complained of inan ition ! But one does sometimes see these udd friendships ; and Fred Whitfield loved Harvy Wynn better than he loved any hu man being, save, perhaps, his mother ; and Harvy loved him, but with that sad kind of love which one feels for people who might be so much better than they are if tin\v would be their truest selves. So it came to pass that Harvy, who was to be grooms man, was invited to Fred's house for the few days now intervening before the mar riage took place. He had only just arrived when they had the conversation given above ; and as yet had seen neither the old lady, as Fred irreverently called his mother, nor, of course, Miss Blackett, who lived rather more than two miles from the Hawse —the Whitfields' place. His introduction to the mother came first. She was a handsome, stately woman, with the mien and manner of adutchess ; a cold, courteous iron hearted kind of person, who wore rich black silks and point-lace caps, and despised poverty as on a par with vice and crime. Conventional, proud, cold, worldly—Harvy understood now whence had come the flaw that ran through, and so pitiably marred, the beauty of his friend's nature. Mrs. Whitfield was very civil, though, to Harvy. She was in too good a humor about this marriage of her planning not to be civil to every one; for Rose Blackett was an heiress, owning now some thousand a year in her own right, with inheritance to come; and she was glad that she had secured so rich a prize for her son, when others, aud men of higher social standing (notably my Lord Marcy Masters and Sir James Ven tour), were pretendants in the same field ; so that Harvy only felt in a general way tlie ice and iron of her nature ;to himself individually she was all graciousness, of a stately sort, not to say grim. But one thing he did see, and that was, that she was feverish and overstrained, and looked ill, and as if on the point of break ing down. His profession taught him that; besides having by nature the full use of his eyes. " I am glad that my mother likes you, j old fellow !" said Fred, when she left the ■ table ; " I know her manner so well, I can 1 weigh to an ounce the measure of esteem she gives to any one ; and 1 can tell you— if you care for it—that you are in class number one with her ; which makes it more comfortable for me, you know. I hope that Rose will like you too, and then we shall be all right " " 1 hope so, too," said Harvy, laughing. And then they talked of other things. The next day they went over to Lisson, where the Blacketts lived. Mrs. Blackett was a ineek, mild, inoffen sive creature, with weak eyes; always dom inated bv the last speaker, and given to easy weeping. She had long been under Mrs. Whitfield's influence, whenever that lady chose to exert it , though, since Rose had grown up, there had sometimes been tierce collisions, when the poor lady had been put to terrific straits, not knowing which sovereign to obey. Fortunately for her, Rose was too fond of liberty to be dom ineering ; and, so long as people would leave her alone, was content to leave them the same. So that, unless when Mrs. Whit field annoyed her personally, and sought to | curtail her individually, as she chose to phrase it, she let her manage her mamma i as much as she liked, and gave no heed to j the direction which that management was ! taking. It was only when Fred asked her I to be his wife, saying, " You see Rose, the i old ladies have made it up between them ; j but we can't do better, unless you are not for it," that she understood the meaning of the last few years. "She did not care much about the matter one way or the other," she said ; " she liked Fred better than either my Lord Marcy Mas ters, who was old enough to be her father, or than Sir James Vontour, who was half a fool so she said, " Yes, very well, Fred and there the thing rested. And that was about the exent of love making that had been between them. While Harvy was "making himself agreeable" to Mrs. Blackett,* Fred Whit field wont out on a roving commission to look for Rose, who was never to be louud, like any other young lady, in the drawing room ; but always where she had no busi ness to be—in the stable, or by the dog kennel, or shooting at a mark with a reai pistol as she used to say, or practicing cro quet, or doing something that was not need lework or anything else essentially femin ine. A turn of the scales more, and Rose would have been " fast," as it was, she was only free. Fred found her, as usual, in the yard superintending some tremendous pro ceedings connected with Fan and Fan's puppies, and after their first off-hand greet ings (they met more like two young men TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., FEBRUARY 2.3, 1865. ! than a lover and his betrothed), told her i who was in the drawing-room, and asked her if she would go and see him. "That's your friend come to see you turned off'?" she asked. And Fred said yes it was. I " Oh, very well !of course I'll go," cried Miss Rose, with just the shadow of a blush on her face, " but you know, Fred, though I don't care about such things myself, it is ' terribly like being trotted out for show." "Oh ! nonsense, Rose," drawled Fred, i " Harvy's far too good a fellow to have any j such disagreeable ideas." And they went I into the drawing-room together. Certainly Rose Brackett was a very pret |tv girl. Tall, graceful, and yet with a cer tain look of personal power about her,which i some men like in women, though others re- I pudiate; with large dark eyesof uncertain I shade?, and thick, rich, glossy hair of the | brown that sits next door to black ; small i hands, now thrust into dog-skin gauntlet j gloves ; small feet and dainty ankles,which the looped-up purple dress and curt red pet ticoat showed'to full advantage; dangling her hat with its sweeping feather in one hand, while sticking the other into the pocket of her short jacket with the big j metal buttons, half blushing and half de fiant, she was altogether a " girl of the pe riod," after the best models of her kind ; just a little too jaunty, perhaps, and a shade too indifferent, but evidently a finc-natured, pure-minded, high-hearted creature, as yet i in the block, and una wakened. At a glance I Harvy read it all. ".She does not love him," he said to him self, " and has never loved." The two young men stayed to dinner on Airs. Biackett's nvitation ; and, at first amused, then surprised, Harvy ended by 4 being indignant at the cavalier indifference with which Fred treated his betrothed. Indeed, the whole thing was really painful to him ; it seemed to be so little earnest, and so devoid of the poetry and passion of love. And he, who thought of marriage as of an earthly heaven, and who would have given all he had in the world to be loved by such a girl as Rose ! " How often it is that people have what they dun't prize, and that others would give their lives for !" he said to Fred as they drove home. " Yes," said Fred, wearily. " Some men like love-making and all that bother ; I con fess I don't." " You do not give yourself too much trouble about it," said Harvy, secretly net tled, but attempting to laugh. "Of all the indifferent lovers that ever lived I should say you were the most indifferent." . "It suits Rose," said Fred, " and I am sure I do the best I can under the circum stances. It is ffueli a stupid position for a follow to be in, altogether ; and even Rose, though not silly, and not a bit sentimental, dislikes it as much as I do. Did you see how she blushed when she came into the room to sec you ?" " I saw she looked very beautiful and rosy," replied Harvy ; " but I did not notice that she was particularly embarrassed or blushing." " No, not embarrassed ; she is not the kind of girl for that; but she colored up." Which seemed to have impressed the young man as something wonderful ; for lie spoke of it again before they got home. When they reached home they found that Mrs. Whitfield had gone to tied, suffering from a slight attack of fever ; by the next morning she was decidedly ill ; and in a short time dangerously so. It was an at tack of nervous fever, and for a time her life was despaired of. Of course the mar riage was put off' indefinitely now, until she recovered ; and, as Harvy Wynn was free, not having yet made a practice any where, he agreed to remain in the house in close attendance, until she had passed the i crisis, either for life or death, i And this was how it came about that lie ! took up his quarters at the Hawse, and, by | consequence, became well acquainted with Rose. Rose was not merely " the jolly girl with out any nonsense about her " that Fred pro claimed her, and that she ostentatiously proclaimed herself to be, in deed, at least, if not in word. Harvy, who had no love for " fast" girls, and who had the power of truth to elicit truth, soon found her out, and ! told her plainly that she was acting a part | which neither became her nor belonged to i her. It was all very well, he said, that she i should like riding, and be fond of dogs and | horses, and even enjoy firing at a mark — though he hoped she might never develope ! into a sportswoman, clever at killing pheas | ants, or hares either ; but it was nothing J but affectation her trying to make herself j into the bad imitation of a man, and pre j tending to be ashamed of herself as a true i woman. Women were women, he said ; | and not all the big-buttons or easy-going j slang in the world could make them any j thing else ; and, whatever the fast school might say, there was a grace in softness, j and a power in love, and an ennobling in j fluence in enthusiasm, not to be had it sta j bios and hunting-fields ; " and womanly j work is womanly glory, Miss Blackett," | continued the young doctor, warmly ; "and | home is not merely a ' place to sleep and | feed in,' as you say, but the emblem aud enclosure of woman's truest life. And all this you ought to feel strongly and enact [steadily, because you are strong and stead i fast." j This lie said earnestly, for he was too j thoroughly manly himself to uphold "as , truly womanly " incapable of imperfect wo. men; and the thing lie liked the best in | Rose was her power and the dash of man j liness in her, which might lie turned to such j noble account if she would. : " And when you have made me all these fine things," she said, her eyes kindling as j she spoke, but not with enthusiasm," what will be the good of it? Much Fred will ' value me ! Much the world will understand me ! One gets no good by such subtleties, Mr. Wynn ; people do not care for them, so what is the good of them ?" j "I am sorry yon think so," Harvy ans i wered. " I should have expected from one ! so entire as yourself the recognition of a j good for its own sake, quite independent of J the sympathy or understanding of the j world." "One must be understood by some one," she answered ; " and the more one's nature is called out, the more need of a response." Then she blushed—cheek, neck, and brow, all one burning crimson—while her eyes dropped, full of thoughts and feelings better left untold. REGARDLESS OK DENUNCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER. I Harvy felt his own heart beat with strange violence while lie watched the lovely face before him ; but be jyas not a man to show what he ought to hide; so, with an effort, he drove the blood back to its calmpr current again, and simply ans wered : "The response always comes some time in life, Miss Brackett." She raised her eyes to his. "Is every one happy, then ?" she said ; " is every mar riage well suited ?" "There are other means of happiness be side marriage, though this is the greatest," lie said ; " a woman's home lias generally other loves and others duties beside the one of the husband : and at the worst there are fiieuds." " Friends !" slit said, scornfully ; " what good arc friends (o one?" " You think so ? Iliad hoped for a diff erent verdict," said Harvy. "Oh, you are not a mere friend," cried Rose ; " at least, not the kind of friend 1 meant," she added, and again she blushed to the very roots of her hair "No; 1 am more the brother than the more acquaintance," Harvy said, in a low voice, altered, too, in its tones, and deep and mellow—"your future husband's broth er-friend ; I am yours also, am 1 not ?" "I suppose so," she answered,coldly,and turned away from hi til, as if offended. Something not quite so tirey as wrath, nor so happy as mirth, came into Harry's eyes as he watched her move away discon tentedly, perhaps more hurt than annoyed ; but lie did not follow her, and in a few mo ments she came hack to hint, smiling as usual, as if she had done battle with the evil spirit within her and had driven him out. But when Harvey parted with her that day, she went into her own room, and wept as if her heart would break ; and he, for the first time in lii.s life, felt inclined to hate Fred Whitfield, and to curse his blindness and fatuity. Had it not been for the young doctor, Mrs. Whitfield's life would not have been worth many hours' purchase. More than once during her illness lie had dragged her out of the very jaws of death, ai.d had now so far recovered her that the wedding-day was again discussed, and only waited Harvey's sanction for the invalid to risk the fatigue and excitement consequent. " Oh, bother the marriage !" said Fred, taking his mother's hand " Rose is a dear good girl, and will wait till doomsday, rather than you should risk anything, moth er. There is no hurry, and we can wait quite well until you are strong : .can't we Harvey ?" " Very well indeed, I should think," Har vey answered, with an almost impercept - ble dash of sarcasm in his voice ; " hut it is not good for your mother to he anxious; and she seems to be anxious to conclude this affair. Of course it can be nothing to me," he added hastily. "I have no purpose of my own to serve in the delay or the con clusion." He had thought. As it was to he, it. was ! better concluded with all decent speed, lie said to himself; and then lie, at least, would be out of danger. She, perhaps, needed no such precaution ; and yet —those hlushds of hers, and that eager tremulous ! face had wakened strange thoughts in him. Hush ! he must not dream such dreams. What would he think of himself, a poor, penniless, country doctor, if he came here as his friend's almost hi other, and, in re turn for his love, broke oil' his marriage with an heiress, and secured her for him himself? The thought brought the blood into his face, and made him loathe himself, as dishonored in soul, for even harboring such a vision. So it was arranged that the settlements should be signed and that the next week the marriage should actually take place, Mrs. \\ bitfield's health not preventing. And when Rose was told this, she wept again : and, to her mother's intense dismay, burst out witli "Mamma, 1 will not marry Fred Whitfield !"'—an announcement which that tine lady put down to insanity, as the mild est term. The day following this decision Fred could not go over to Lisson ; he was de tained on some business or other at home ; i so the young doctor rode over, with a note containing a request for the two ladies to dine at Hie Hawse in the evening, seeing that side one was disabled and the other detained, and no intercourse possible unless they would kindly come. " Certainly," said Mrs. Blackett, a little nervously, glancing at her daughter, who, with her head thrown up, stood sideways to her. "And you, Miss Blackett?" answered Harvey. "Oli, by all means !" said Aliss Rose, not quite pleasantly, at least to her mother's ears. "1 want to speak to Fred very seri ously." "My dear !" remonstrated Mrs. Blackett; and then she left the room. " What has happened ?" asked Harvey, impulsively. " Oh, nothing,' answered Rose ; she was standing now in the bay-window, looking out into the garden, so that her face was not seen. " 1 have only told mamma that I am not going to marry Fred ; and she is put out." Harvey reeled like one struck. Had his senses played him false. " Indeed !" he then said, after a long pause ; " your determination is sudden, Miss Blackett." " Yes," she answered,with assumed care lessness ; and her quivering voice and bashful eyes belied her assumption. "Now that it has come so near, I feel that it will not do ; and I am sure Fred will feel with 1110." Again Harvey was silent. What could he say? that he thought Fred would con sent to give her up,being utterly unworthy his good fortune? that he hoped he would keep her still at her word, when lie hoped just the reverse? that she was doing wrong to be honest, wheu he loved her for it more than he ever loved her before? What | could he say? Truth and honor were on opposite sides, as sometimes happens in life ; and if lie said what lie thought, lie would say what he ought not to say. So he kept silence ; and Rose was not quick enough to divine why. While they were standing in this awk ward position, both to much moved to speak, a carriage dashed up to the door, and "Mr. Norton" was announced. Mr. Norton was Rose's trustee and guardian, in away; though that young lady had full power over her own funds, and did not in geuer a! either ask advice as to what she should do witli her own, or defer to it, if given.— And being- of a school which "goes in'' for a great many things better left alone, she "went in" for speculation on a tolerable large scale ; so that, since she came of age she had placed most of her money out at nurse, she said ; but she had chosen, un fortunately for her, the most capricious nurse of all—mining property. However, she would do it ; so she had no one to blame but herself. Not even smooth-spok en, cleanly shaven, Mr. Norton ; who had helped her by-the-by,to more than one"good thing," in which he himself had taken shares that he generously handed over to her, af ter private; advices received and pondered over. And when Mr. Norton came Harvey left, bearing with him the promise that the two ladies would come to dinner at half past six precisely. As much before as they liked, but not ti moment after. W hen they came it was easy to see that something had happened. Mrs. Blackett was depressed, tearful ; her eyes were red and swollen, her face puffed and pale ; she spoke as if she had a violent cold, and in every other particular of manner and per son showed that she had been weeping bit terly. Hose was Hushed and excited, with a certain bravery of manner which trem bled too nearly on bravado to be quite as lovely as might have been. But she looked beautiful—perhaps more beautiful than she had overlooked in her life before : and even lazy Fred seemed struck by her, and warm ed up to unwonted feeling. After dinner she asked him to go with her into the library ; for she was utterly unconventional in all she did, and would not have minded asking a prince to tie her : shoe, or anything else she might desire, be ing just a little touched by the self-will, be longing - to the heiress ; and Fred assented, wondering what was up, and what she wanted. W hen she had shut the door,"Dear old Fred," she said, in a coaxing voice, "I want yon to do me a kindness." " I ain sure 1 will, Rose," said Fred, nat urally, and without his drawl. " You do like me, don't you, now ?" " Why, yes ;of course I do. I think you the best girl going," answered Fred, open ing his eyes. "And would not like to hurt or distress me ?" "By Jove ! no," hi- cried. "1 should think not, indeed 1" She was standing by the fire,leaning one hand on the chimney-piece, with the other just lifting her dark-blue gown over her ankle, her foot ou the fender, showing her pink silk stockings, bronze slipper, and a bit of broad needlework as a flounce above. " Well, 1 will take you at your word," said Rose. " I want you to give me up, Fred, aud break oil* the marriage. Come, now ; are you a good enough old fellow for that ?" very coaxingly. " Break off the marriage, Rose !" cried Fred, all in amaze. "Are you dreaming?" " Not a bit of it," she answered, laughing a little hysterically; "quite serious and wide awake." " But I cannot give you up, Rose," said Fred. "My mother has set her heart on the marriage ; and it is so near, too, now ; and 1 do love you a great deal more than I have said or shown," he added, stirred out of his affectation. " You know, Rose, how I hate the idea of sentimentality or spoon eyism with any one ; and I have fought off that as long and as well as 1 could. But 1 am not the indifferent beast you think me. I do love you, Rose, and 1 cannot give you up." She had turned quite pale during her lov er's speech. "Well, Fred," she then said, "ol" course I am very much obliged to you, and all that ; but 1 have not been playing a part, and I do not feel a bit more than I have shown ; so that we are not on equal terms, if you love me as deeply as you say : and I am simply in the old way of good fellow ship. Mind that, and never reproach me hereafter ; for 1 have told you the truth, remember. And as for your lady mother, 1 don't think she will make much objection when she knows all,because, dear old Fred. 1 am ruined." '• Good (fod, Rose !" cried Fred ; "what on earth do you mean?" " Well, you know 1 have been going in for speculating ; and so Mr. Norton came down to tell me to-day that all tny great expectations are come to nothing ; the Bella .Jinuiita mines are drowned ; and 1 have not what will realize two hundred a year instead of two thoustand. And so 1 think the question of Mrs. Whitfield's con sent is settled, is it not? " Now, then, Rose, I will not give you up for any one in the world," said Fred, in a deep voice. "My mother may say what she likes, and you may say what you like— the marriage shall go on ; this day week you are my wife come what may ! 1 never felt how much I loved you before to-day, | Rose, when there has been just a chance of j losing you." "But if I don't want to marry you, Fred?" ! urged Rose, touched, in spite of herself, by j the unusual warmth and chivalry of the j man. Oli, bosh !" said Fred. " You are not the girl to have been engaged for three months contentedly enough, and turn round just the last moment, and say you don't care for the fellow. 1 quite understand you, Rose, dear old lassie ! You think that my S mother will not like the match so much now as when yon had money, and that you j are not the catch yon were before you had ! lost it ; and so you thought you would re | lease me. But 1 will not he released, Rosey: , and so I'll tell my mother when she speaks to me about it, if she takes that tone at j all." Upon which Rose did what was a most J extraordinary thing in her to do—what Fred had never before seen the slightest inclina • tion in her towards him—she thing her arms round his neck and kissed him ; and then J hurst into a violent flood of tears, which j soon passed into hysterics • when lie was j obliged to call the servants and Harvey | Wyim. So now the whole thing came out, both j tn Mrs. Whitfield and to Harvey ; Fred had ' no idea of making mysteries and keeping ! secrets unnecessarily ; but be noticed two i things as the result of his communication, ; that lii.s mother looked decidedly displeas ed, and as if she had made up her mind in a different direction t< lii.s, and perhaps, with more stability ; and that Harvey, whose face had lighted up with a strange pw Annum, in Advance. passion, suddenly burst himself out, arid became cold, and ashen, and "odd." But Fred Whitlield was not remarkable for pen etration ; so the coil coiled itself a turn tighter, and 110 one seemed likely to get out of the rounds,or to be free of its strands. Rose could do no more than she had done ; Fred could do no less ; and fyr once in her life his mother was powerless, and he flatly refused to obey her. His nature had been ploughed up for the first time, and the weeds had been cut down and the good seed had sprung up. Rose Blackett, how ever, and Harvey Wynn were as miserable as it often falls to the lot of people to be by the virtues of another. If Fred would only have been selfish and ryir row-hear ted, how many days and nights of suffering would j have been saved. The time was coming very near, now ; it wanted only three days to the wedding,and none but Fred was content. Mrs.Whitfield was coldly savage, and declared she would not appear at the church or breakfast eith er. Conditions were changed, she said, since the engagement was made ; and Rose Blackett, who had once been well enough, was no fit match now for the owner of the : Hawse ; Mrs. Blackett was in a state of chronic tearfulness, which made her poor eyes very bad ; Rose was broken up out of all likeness to he former self, and her at tempts at the old high-handed "fastness" failed signally ; Harvey was moody, irrit able, feverish, uncertain; and the whole | octave rang with an undertone of discord, : which no one saw any means of preventing; it not being always possible for one's fing ers to strike the true key. The three friends were riding along the lane leading up to Lisson : Rose and Fred in front, and Harvey at some little distance behind—the lane being too narrow for there abreast. Fred was talking about Tuesday next (it was Monday now)and talking nat urally and lovingly—for somehow he had forgotten his drawl ol late—when they heard a terrific plunging in the rear, and then a heavy fall, as Harvey's horse—a wild, firey, nervous brute—flung him sud denly to the ground, taking him at a mo ment of inattention when he was riding with a slack rein and his mind far away ; I so that he was thrown in a second, almost i at the first start and plunge the terrified i brute had made—frightened at an idiot lad of the place starting up from behind the hedge, yelling and flinging his arms abroad. In another moment Rose Blackett, throw-' ing her reins wildly to Fred, was k reeling by his side, holding his head against her bosom, and calling him her "Beloved Har vey which he,stunned as he was, and un able to reply,was not too insensible to hear ! and understand. The carriage was sent for from Lisson, : and the poor fellow, bleeding and terribly shaken was taken to the house to be set to j rights as soon as possible ; and while they i were carrying him through the hall Rose j turned to Fred, who stood leaning agaiust j the lintel of the door and nearly as pale as j the wounded man, but a great deal more \ wretched. "It has come out, Fred," she said, laying | her hand on his shoulder, the tears in her | eyes, but with a more contented expression 1 of face than she hud had of late. "lam j very sorry for you, especially as you have ! seemed to like me so much more really than j you did ; but I cannot help it." " You are a dear good girl, Rose," said Fred ; "and I have been a fool. It serves j me right. When I was master of the situ-1 atiun I fooled awaj my opportunity ; and j now when I would die to be loved by you, i Rose, you have gone oft* to another." He ! tried to smile, but his lips quivered, and he j was obliged to turn away his head. " Never mind, Fred," said Rose. " You: will And some one else better suited to you, j and more worthy of you than I am : and J perhaps you will come to me some day,and ; say, ' Rose, you have been the best friend I ever had in my life,' when you have a j sweet little wife that you adore." " I don't quite think that," said poor i Fred ; "but if you are happy, that will be j something. At all events you are a dear ; good girl ; and I love you more than you j know of, or would perhaps believe. But j that is nothing to the purpose ; I have lost j you, when 1 might have won you if I had j been wise." They shook hands cordially, and parted ; j and the next day Fied left the Hawse, and soon after went abroad. Rose and lie did not meet again till man, years after her i marriage with Harvey ; and when they did, ! Fred was really married to the "dearest j little woman under the sun," and Rose was j a handsome matron, superintending her j nursery instead of the kennel, and finding j her children rather more interesting objects , of care than Fan's puppies of oldeu time. She had saved altogether about four bun