course of that day and many succeeding ones, I know not how often, and recalled every intonation of his deep, clear voice, every flash of his quick, brown eye, and every gleam of his pleasant, but too transient smile. Such a confession will look very absurd I fear—but no matter—I have written it; and they that read it will not know the writer.
While I was walking along, happy within, and pleased with all around, Miss Murray came hastening to meet me; her buoyant step, flushed cheek, and radiant smiles shewing that she, too, was happy, in her own way. Running up to me, she put her arm in mine, and without waiting to recover breath, began—
"Now Miss Grey, think yourself highly honoured, for I'm come to tell you my news before I've breathed a word of it to any one else."
"Well, what is it?"
"Oh, such news! In the first place, you must know that Mr. Hatfield came upon me just after you were gone. I was in such a way for fear papa or mama should see him!—but you know I couldn't call you back again; and so I—Oh dear! I can't tell you all about it now, for there's Matilda, I see, in the park,
