“Richard, how much your words comfort me,” replied Margaret; “you no longer oppose but encourage me. Thank you, dear Richard; yet one thing more, when you leave me, you must be free from all engagement—nay, do not interrupt me—many long years may intervene ere I shall be free to give you my hand; nor would I have its disposal linked with such a dreadful alternative as my father’s death. The few charms I may possess will ere long have faded, and I would not bind you to me when the light of youth has passed from cheek and eye. No, Richard—go forth into the world, it claims your talents and your usefulness, and in time some other will be to you all that I would have been.” “Margaret, you do not know me,” he replied. “Think you another can ever come between me and your image. I go, but the memory of our love shall go with me—your name shall be my star, and for your dear sake I will devote all my energies henceforth to the happiness of my fellow-beings; your noble example shall not pass without its lesson. But promise me one thing, Margaret—let there be one solace for my wretchedness—one hope, though faint, to cheer my lonely path—promise me that should any thing hereafter occur, no matter how long the flight of years, which may induce you to wave your present decision, you will write to me—will you—will you promise me this, my best beloved?” Margaret placed her hand in his: “Yes, Richard, I promise you—should that time come you shall be informed; and I ask in return this, if your feelings have meanwhile changed, if through time and absence I may have become indifferent to you, Richard, then make no reply to my communication—let there be forever _silence_—or _joy_—between us.” And thus parted two fond devoted hearts—a noble sacrifice to filial love. Never, perhaps, was there a more striking illustration of the frail basis on which all human hopes are placed, than was presented by those sudden events overwhelming the inmates of Willow Bank Cottage with affliction. Thus our most ardent expectations are frequently met by disappointment, and our most promising joys blighted. Even when happiness and peace irradiate our hearts, and on the buoyant wing of hope our fancy soars into a future of unclouded bliss, even then desolation and wo may be at our very threshold. Thus it proved with those whose history I will briefly relate.