marrying Cassie by the time he was forty than perhaps reason demanded, as the shrewd old woman perceived.

"And dunna ye take to heart so much what thae wise men says about a' that waiting and sich like," said she. "Nathan nor Solomon's not young men, see thee." Mrs. Broom had the greatest possible pride in the extent of her husband's learning and wisdom, but thought it seemly to depreciate them slightly in public, both for " manners" and wholesome discipline to her great man's pride. "An yer true love and you's firm and faithful to each other, 'twill move mountains. Many waters will not quench love.' There's a proverb, an he wants one. And ye'll come together, please God, afore long, an ye don't do ill that good may come. Afore you're forty," she added, with a smile.

The young man's face brightened; he turned suddenly and gave her a great hug in his gratitude.

“Nay, lad, fair and softly. I'm not Cassie," she said, laughing—

"No, but yo'r' Cassie's aunt, and her aunt's mine too," he added triumphantly and defiantly as he went away.

CHAPTER IX.

SCIENTIFIC AND ANTIQUARIAN.

Alas! what eyes hath love set in my head.

Shakspeare Sonnet.

It was towards evening a few weeks after, and Cassie was feeding the chickens, and gazing absently at her father's retreating back as he passed out of the farmyard, when she suddenly heard a low whistle, and saw Roland in a dark corner of the cowshed opposite, eagerly watching her. In another moment he had rushed out from his hiding-place, caught hold of her, and drawn her in among the friendly shelter of the stacks.

"What hast thee been a doin' all this time? a gettin' drownded mebbe i' some o' them games," whispered she, with a sort of shudder. "When I see'd thee fa' into the watter, I thowt I should ha' swooned."

66 And then thee uncle and aunt wouldn't let me scarce ha' the speech on thee," answered he, laugh

ing, "for why I were sa wet. I were warm enow inside thinkin' o' thee for to kip the outside dry, I know and I've a seemed to see thee scores o' times in my yead sin' thee went away."

"Eh, what a queer un I'd a made out o' my head as thee father's son mun be ere iver I'd a see'd thee!" said she, with a low laugh.

"How were I like, dearie? happen 'twere like the Deevil upo' th' rain-spout in Youlcliffe church?"

But he got no satisfaction beyond "Eh, thee wastna thee at all-be asy."

"What a time it is sin' I have a see'd thee!" said he. "I thowt I niver should ha' got here t' year," he went on. "My feyther wouldna let me stir-he watches me like a cat does a moos. He lets me go a bit, and then's down wi' his foot on me happen I go a good yard out o' th' town. I shouldna ha' been here now, but he sent me wi' a message to Amos Young, and I chanced on un at the turn o' th' road, and so nipped up the Nob."

"My feyther's altogether as savage wi' thee and thine," answered she. "What would he do an he were to see thee here? He says thy feyther telled un as how there were a lass wi' money down to her portion, as he were a keepin' on wi' a long sight o'

time back for thee," said Cassie, looking shyly and anxiously into his face.

Roland whistled incredulously. "I dunna know o' any lass as is a waitin' for me, but I know the lass as I'm a waitin for," he went on, putting his arm round her.

"How long wilt thou wait, dearie ?" said she, with a shy smile. "Thou'st not a good one at waiting at all, I take it. My feyther's back were scarce turned afore thou whistled-an he'd a come back where would we ha' been ?"

"Dost thee wish I should be so particular patient as a' that, a waitin' for to see thee? But I bided there a smartish while i' th' cowshed afore thou see'dst me; -a mortal long while," he repeated energetically.

"A cock's stride, as folks say," answered she, laughing, as she pointed to the big cock who had followed them among the corn-ricks. "It makes believe as it takes a long step, and 'tain't nothink at all! I take it thou'st but a make-believe too, Roland," said she, fondly, "when thou say'st an thee'll bide any time for me. Thou'lt forget me afore I shall thee, wi' all this coil o' troubles."

It took so long for Roland to rebut these calumnies and to prove his unalterable faith, that the

gloaming fell, and he was obliged to leave her before the subject was anything like finished.

“I havena said half o' what I'd a got to tell thee nayther," he ended, sorrowfully.

There was a light in Cassie's face as she came into the house that told only too plainly what had been taking place outside. Lydia shook her head lovingly at her.

"Thee must tell un not to come again, dearie. An thee feyther finds un he'll be that mad angry he'll half kill us all.. Bid Roland bide awhile, till this storm-time be overpast. Mebbe thee aunt will do summut for him whiles, by nows and thens."

As Roland came out of the farmyard gate, with eyes in the back of his head instead of in front, he fell full upon old Ashford, who had returned home earlier than usual. The height to which the untamed passions of those who habitually yield to them can reach, the effect of irresponsible power and unchecked temper in secluded places where public opinion does not come, is something terrible-when men live in communities they are forced to give and take, and education and civilization, though they do not do much for us, teach us at least to restrain, or at the worst disguise their violence. The horror inspired