“Do not detain me a moment,” I exclaimed, “Ernest is innocent! It was I who, in self-defense, shot at Durell, who attacked me in the forest last night, no doubt mistaking me in the darkness for my friend.” The party with Ernest had been gone but a short time, and were soon overtaken by one of the neighbors, when they immediately returned to the cottage, and I, certainly the happiest of the group, with a face too full of truth to be doubted, told my story, which entirely exonerated Ernest, and myself too. The officers then departed, and a surgeon having examined and bandaged the limb of Durell, who had only received a flesh wound, he appeared so mortified and chagrined at his mistake and exposure, and so anxious to leave the cottage, that it was thought best to remove him on a litter to the village inn. He soon recovered, and one morning made an early departure, leaving his bill to be paid by me. Subsequently we learned he was a gambler, and had probably sought the seclusion of the valley to evade the pursuit of the law. But enough of him. What a joyous party returned to the Grange, to which Richard had been dispatched at an early hour, to relieve the anxiety of Linda and her father. Bertha, whose beauty had wrought all our past trouble, accompanied us, but I scarcely looked at her, as she rode by the side of Ernest, for I could for some time think only of him, and surprised my friend very often by the tight pressure I gave his hand whenever I could reach it. On our arrival at the Grange, I explained the cause of the distress and anxiety I had shown there on the night before, and oh! how sincerely my heart joined in the pious and simply beautiful thanks to God, from the lips of my old tutor, as we surrounded his hospitable board. How truly I felt that a benign and overruling Providence alone could bring joy out of sorrow. Years have passed since then, years of happiness with Linda, but the memory of that night and morning can never be effaced from my mind. Yet it has taught me a grateful dependence on the Giver of all good, and one of the earliest lessons learned by the little happy group who call us parents, was to look on the bright side of life, and never imagine sorrows which may have no reality. * * * * * =AMBITION.= =BY RUFUS WAPLES.= Aurora smiles! the sun is on the sea! Angels are painting pictures in the sky; Eolian breezes warble wild and free, Singing the infant giant’s lullaby. He comes to bless; he smiles to beautify: But lately laving in a sea of glory, New-born, new-crowned, he reigns a prince on high, With brightness god-like and with mission holy, The brilliant hero of a day’s brief story.