with foam and dust, and beset his rider with questions. The latter soon recovered himself, and I heard him say something about Ireland, so we judged he had come from that country with letters for the Parliament. Without waiting even to quench his thirst, the messenger left his steed to be taken care of, and instantly disappeared. The poor horse died of fatigue, I believe, but we did not stay longer in the gallery, for I heard my father calling us. The strangers were taking their leave at last. "Where have you been, lasses?" said father. "Mistress Dorothy Crowle, you have heard of Master Pym, and you, sir, will know Dorothy's worthy father by report. This is Alice, my only child."

Mr. Pym, a grave gentleman, getting into years, stroked my cheek, and asked "if no roses grew near the Humber?" His friend, whom I afterwards learned was Mr. Hampden, said, "There is a proverb here that all ill comes from the North,' but ye three specimens of Northern manhood and maidenhood may henceforth give that proverb the lie. You must teach these conceited London folks that as fair flowers grow in country gardens as in their hotbeds. This is not a pleasant time to see the city, ladies; there are such continual tumults and outbreaks amongst the people, and the Court is away at present."

"My daughter has been sick; we came more for change of air," said father, "than to see sights, and at no time is she much disposed for sports or junketings: nor is Dolly either."

"Well, Colonel, the troubles that have been gathering for the last few years are enough to stay all merry-makings," replied Mr. Pym. "It is no use Christian men emigrating, or talking any longer of forbearance, and submission to the powers that be; let them stay and help to build up the broken walls of the Constitution; it is time to awake and withstand those who would enslave our country and our souls too."

"There are many in our town that are of your opinion, Mr. Pym," replied my father; "and we are ready to uphold the Parliament at all hazards, as long as its members labour with single hearts for the good of the nation."

"You have sent two honest men to our Assembly as your mouthpiece," said Mr. Hampden; "you must support their resolutions, for Harry Vane has the foresight of a prophet; never fear to follow where he leads. Pym, the day is going, our friend knows our wishes, and we are wiser for his counsels."

Father tells us that Mr. Hampden is going to Scotland with the commission appointed to attend the King; a rather unwelcome post, as the real intent is to watch his Majesty's proceedings, and those of certain disaffected noblemen beyond the Border. Ralph is a great admirer of Mr. Hampden, and says that even his greatest

opponents speak less bitterly of him than any of his party. Nothing can exceed the courteousness of his manners, and in his countenance there is such a happy blending of strength and gentleness.

Aug. 17th.-To-day we went up the Thames, a most lovely sail. The barge was fitted up in elegant style, and Sir Harry had ordered a repast to be served to us while on the river.

It is reported privately that a rebellion has broken out in Ireland. Doubtless the man who rode into the yard the other day was the bringer of this news.

Sept. 9th.—The Parliament adjourned this day for a brief repose, to meet again next month. Father talks of returning to Hull, and Dolly and I say, "By all means;" we are sighing for home and a quieter life than we lead here at the "Blue Boar." I shall also be free from Ralph's kindly-meant persecutions. He has recently entered the army, and cannot obtain leave of absence, for which I am not grieved. I hope we shall bid London good-bye next week, or the days will be so short that this journey will either be longer or more perilous than our last.

CHAPTER XV.-A LONG FAREWELL.
"For summer and his pleasures wait on thee,
And, thou away, the very birds are mute."

—SHAKESPEARE.

The house in High Street where Sir John Lister lived, and where King Charles I. slept and feasted, is still standing, and in good preservation, though more noticeable for its antiquity than for architectural beauty. It has a low, square tower in the centre, and until lately the rooms were very rich in carved woodwork.* The garden in front, where rank weeds now thrive unmolested, used to bloom with flowers in Dame Lister's reign, and no dwelling in Hull was better ordered than hers, and none so sumptuously furnished.

She sat spinning one morning in her parlour, soon after Alice's return from London, but the wheel was turning slowly, for all her attention was directed towards her son William, who stood beside her booted and spurred, playing with his riding whip.

"Thou art going again very soon to Winestead," said the dame. "Old Lady Hildyard must have taken thy fancy amazingly, Will, to make thee so anxious after her health!"

Will laughed, but he seemed embarrassed.

"Why, mother, you don't suppose she is the guiding star to

*In this century the mansion has become an object of increased interest, from its having been the residence-and, as some assert, the birthplace-of William Wilberforce.

Winestead? I thought you would have guessed before now that my visits were to Mistress Katherine. You want a daughter, and often wish that I would marry. You have nought against this maiden, have you, mother?"

"Nay; Mistress Kate is as comely a lass as any I have seen, and a rare match for a son of mine; but I had other hopes, as thou knowest, and it is not easy to set another in her place."

"Right well do I know, mother; and I may have been fool enough to have hoped myself; but 'tis useless now to lament over that."

"I don't see cause for calling thyself a fool, Will, having as fair a right as others to expect success-aye, and fairer. Why, thou art aiming higher now!"

"Yes, in the world's view; but you and I see more than the world does. However, I do not mean to be miserable for life because I can't just have my own way. I find myself very happy in Kate Hildyard's company, and I am going to ask Sir Guy's leave to woo her. You will wish me good speed to-day, will you not, dear mother?"

"Is the maiden well disposed?" asked the dame.

"I have no reason to think otherwise; but I am resolved to

know before this day is over. I may say that my mother will find a place for her in her kind heart, may I not ?" asked Will, coaxingly, and laying his hand on her wheel.

"Better leave the lady to find out the state of my heart herself; she shall not lack a welcome when she comes."

"Thank you, mother. Now I shall go with a bolder face, knowing that you wish well to my suit."

He kissed the dame affectionately, and left her to her spinning. The evening saw him riding back in triumph, for he had found Sir Guy and the lady both propitious.

Many people wondered greatly at the match, knowing the pride of the Hildyards, and Kate herself was surprised to feel her prejudices melting; but she had given her heart to Will Lister before she knew it, and being too noble ever to marry for aught but love, and having Ralph's full approval, she gave no thought to what folks might say or think. When asked, she frankly told her grandfather that she loved the young knight, and with his consent would accept his hand. The ever indulgent Sir Guy made no difficulty, if Kate was happy and Ralph looked with favour on her choice; these were considerations outweighing any amount of family pride and ambition. As soon as Kate had discovered something of her feelings for Will, she had made Ralph her confidant, reposing the same trust in him as had always been placed in herself. Of his sympathy she felt quite sure, but of his opinion she had felt doubtful

when she first wrote to him on the subject. But the first days of Will's courtship were clouded over by the death of Lady Hildyard, who had been failing for some time, but whose end no one thought was so near. At Kate's earnest entreaty Alice spent a week with her during the month of September, and many were the confidences the two maidens exchanged. Alice felt some little disappointment when she found that Dolly had been entirely overlooked, but she was soon reconciled when she remembered that she would now have two dear friends living near to her, and on the whole perhaps Kate's bright ways would better suit her aunt and Will than Dolly's sober manners. On the other hand, Kate was deeply mortified and grieved when she first heard of Alice's betrothal, and many bitter things did Ralph write to his sister concerning Andrew Marvel; but it was impossible to cherish resentment in sight of Alice's radiantly-happy face, and Kate was only thankful -for her brother's sake-that his duties still kept him in London. When she looked at her grandfather she wished Ralph was back, for poor Sir Guy was quite bowed down by the death of his wife, and needed some one to relieve him from the responsibilities of a large estate; he urged his grandson, at all costs, to release himself, but it was a critical time, and Ralph could only promise to resign his commission as soon as possible.

And now another change was pending which no one had foreseen. Early in October, Mrs. Skinner, the mother of the young lady who was drowned with the elder Mr. Marvel, sent for Andrew to come and see her. Since the death of her daughter she had never left her room, and now she felt herself to be very near another world. To Andrew's father she had been much attached, and having no child she desired that her small property should belong to his son; but the bequest was made on one condition, viz., that Andrew should travel on the Continent for at least one year after he left Cambridge, to perfect himself in foreign languages. In doing this the good lady thought she was carrying out her deceased friend's wishes.

Andrew was dismayed, for he was just about this time leaving college; but, after taking counsel with his friends, he accepted the condition, and the property was willed to him. Three days afterwards Mrs. Skinner breathed her last, and Alice was startled out of her bright dreams by the prospect of a parting.

"If I must go it were well to go directly, that I may the sooner be here again," said Andrew, and although Alice would like to have suggested the spring time as a more fitting season for travelling, and though Ann was inconsolable with grief, the decision was left to the Colonel.

"You had better go at once," he said to Andrew. “A more

perfect knowledge of foreign tongues will help to better your fortunes; at present the country is in a restless, changing state, not auspicious for setting out in life. In a year there may be great alterations, and you may find a fair field for your talents and energies, and you may the sooner claim your bride." The Colonel did not think it necessary to utter all his own dark forebodings for the future he honestly gave the best advice he had to give; but better far had he bade Marvel fling Mrs. Skinner's legacy into the Humber than have sent him away at such a time.

It seemed a terrible thing to Alice for Andrew to go so far away, encountering a thousand dangers by sea and land, living amongst strangers, with long months together when she would. hear no tidings of him. To a maiden living in the seventeenth century, in a northern town, travelling was a very formidable affair. To Andrew the journey itself, and the prospect of enlarging his knowledge and experience by intercourse with foreigners, was pleasant enough; but to leave Alice now in the first blush of their happiness, to forego all those pleasant winter days and evenings in the dear old library, those delightful readings of Spencer, Sidney, and Will Shakespeare, with the long and equally poetic interludes of converse or eloquent silence; to forego one entire summer, with its sweet rambles, its rides across the country, down the shady green glades of Beverley woods, or, dismounting, to wander with echoing footsteps under the dim, grey avenues, the stony clusters of leaves, and fruit, and flowers of the stately Minster; and to miss the careless loitering in the garden at eventide, in the mysterious twilight! He might see fairer lands, the favourite haunts of Nature, where she emptied her abundant lap, while tossing her riches with a more sparing hand to his far northern home; he might stand beneath the great St. Peter's of old Rome; he might gaze upon the scenes of stories that had stirred his soul; but, if half his heart was absent-if all the while he was casting anxious backward glances-if he could not see these things through Alice's eyes-more than half their charm would be lost. Was he not leaving far greater pleasures at home than any he could find abroad?

A week or two was spent in necessary preparations, and by the end of October Andrew was ready to depart, hoping to spend the winter in Italy.

Into the history of these last few days we cannot pry too curiously. We know that they were sweet as well as bitter days, sacred, if very sad; that tears and sighs were more frequent than smiles-though these were not entirely absent, and that vows were renewed and promises reiterated. And Time, that in the days to come they would chide for his slow and leaden march, now seemed