The husband and wife galloped joyously on for miles and miles in the soft light of that delicious afternoon; with every step the gloom and the shadows seemed to lift themselves from each heart, till they were cordial and gay almost as Elsie herself. These few happy hours, soon to be dimly overclouded, were so bright and sweet, that even in the midst of after trouble, their memory would come up like fragments of exquisite melody, haunting those two people. Whatever the secret was which oppressed Elizabeth, its recollection was put aside for the time, and Mellen gave himself up to the pleasure of the hour with all the intensity of a nature which enjoys and suffers so sharply, that even trifles can make for it a keener excitement than great happiness or acute suffering bring to more placid characters. "You are not tired, Bessie?" "Tired, no! I could ride on forever!" "See how the waters shine in the sun; they seem so full of joyous, buoyant life, that it gives one strength to watch them." Elizabeth could fully share in his enthusiasm, and she allowed her poetical fancy full play, indulging in beautiful comparisons and earnest talk, which unveiled a phase of her nature seldom revealed except to those who knew her well. "I never heard a woman talk as you can," said Mellen, admiringly; "we shall have you writing books, or coming out as a genius yet." Elizabeth laughed gaily. "You need not be afraid; I know you would not like it." "Indeed I should not; it springs from my selfishness I know, but I like to keep your real self entirely for my own life." The afternoon was wearing away when they turned homewards, but still retained its brightness and beauty, as their hearts kept the new glow which warmed them. They galloped down the long hills and through the level groves till they were nearly home. The sunlight faded--a strong breeze swept up from the ocean, and a sudden cloud obscured the sun; one of those abrupt changes so common in autumn fell upon the sea, robbing the day of its loveliness, and making it so cold and leaden that it was more than dreary from contrast with the glorious morning. They were near the gates which led into their own domain, when a man came running swiftly towards them, and as he passed looked up in Elizabeth's face. Whether her horse was frightened by the stranger rushing so abruptly past him, or whether she gave some nervous jerk to the reins, was not apparent; but a sharp cry rang from her lips, the horse made a simultaneous spring, and though a good rider, Elizabeth was unseated and thrown from her saddle. Mellen sprang from his horse and bent over his wife. "I am not hurt," she said faintly, "not hurt." The old woman who lived in a little house at the entrance of the grounds which they had transformed into a lodge, came out at that moment, and being a Yankee woman of energy and resources, caught Elizabeth's horse, and was ready to lend a helping hand wherever it might be required.