"Over! And what will they say of me--what will they think of me at home? Over! Ah!" "It is but for a short time; in the course of nature my uncle cannot live long: all then will be explained. Our marriage once made public, all connected with you will be proud to own you. You will have wealth, station--a name among the first in the gentry of England. But, above all, you will have the happiness to think that your forbearance for a time has saved me, and, it may be, our children, sweet one!--from poverty and--" "It is enough," interrupted the girl; and the expression of her countenance became serene and elevated. "It is for you--for your sake. I know what you hazard: how much I must owe you! Forgive me, this is the last murmur you shall ever hear from these lips." An hour after these words were spoken, the marriage ceremony was concluded. "Caleb," said the bridegroom, drawing the clergyman aside as they were about to re-enter the house, "you will keep your promise, I know; and you think I may depend implicitly upon the good faith of the witness you have selected?" "Upon his good faith?--no," said Caleb, smiling, "but upon his deafness, his ignorance, and his age. My poor old clerk! He will have forgotten all about it before this day three months. Now I have seen your lady, I no longer wonder that you incur so great a risk. I never beheld so lovely a countenance. You will be happy!" And the village priest sighed, and thought of the coming winter and his own lonely hearth. "My dear friend, you have only seen her beauty--it is her least charm. Heaven knows how often I have made love; and this is the only woman I have ever really loved. Caleb, there is an excellent living that adjoins my uncle's house. The rector is old; when the house is mine, you will not be long without the living. We shall be neighbours, Caleb, and then you shall try and find a bride for yourself. Smith,"--and the bridegroom turned to the servant who had accompanied his wife, and served as a second witness to the marriage,--tell the post-boy to put to the horses immediately." "Yes, Sir. May I speak a word with you?" "Well, what?" "Your uncle, sir, sent for me to come to him, the day before we left town." "Aha!--indeed!" "And I could just pick up among his servants that he had some suspicion-- at least, that he had been making inquiries--and seemed very cross, sir." "You went to him?" "No, Sir, I was afraid. He has such a way with him;--whenever his eye is fixed on mine, I always feel as if it was impossible to tell a lie; and-- and--in short, I thought it was best not to go." "You did right. Confound this fellow!" muttered the bridegroom, turning away; "he is honest, and loves me: yet, if my uncle sees him, he is clumsy enough to betray all. Well, I always meant to get him out of the way--the sooner the better. Smith!" "Yes, sir!"