Susan and some other village girls, tired with dancing and the excitement of the day, mounted an empty waggon which was returning homewards, and the merry group of thoughtless young creatures thus made their entry into the quiet village street. Susan had, in the exuberance of her spirits, danced the longest and the latest; the day had been oppressively hot, but with the evening came a heavy dew, and the air was chilly. When Susan arrived at home, her mother thought she looked pale; and scolded George for having allowed her to return in the waggon, after having heated herself with dancing. "Time enough for me to mind him, mother, when once we are married," answered the joyous girl; "I have but a little while longer to be my own mistress, and I must use my liberty now, or never!" and the gay creature laughed, conscious of her power over father, mother, and lover. "Oh, mother, we have been so happy! I never was so happy before, and, maybe, never shall again! never, at least, if you teach George that I am not to have my own way!" and she turned her beaming eyes from her mother to her lover, while old Sarah hoped she had many days in store for her of more true happiness, if not of such flighty gaiety. Alas! it was well for them they could not look into futurity. The next morning Susan woke with a heavy cold, and an unusual pain in her eyes; they were bloodshot and inflamed. The dame reproached her with her imprudence: and doctored her with that degree of discretion which is usual among the poor people. Her eyes became hourly more painful. As he returned from work, George paid her his accustomed visit. He wished she would see the doctor; but she laughingly replied she should be well to-morrow, for old Dame Jones had given her an infallible remedy for all complaints of the eyes. CHAPTER II. O dolce Amor che di riso t' ammanti Quanto parevi ardente in que' favilli Ch' aveano spirto sol di pensier santi. Dante, _Paradiso, cant._ 20mo. Dame Jones's infallible remedy rather increased than diminished the evil; and Susan's spirits began to fail her at the continued suffering, the enforced idleness, and also in some degree at the disfigurement occasioned by the dimming of her brilliant eyes; for she was not without a share of female vanity,--vanity which is indulged as almost a laudable feeling when it is for the sake of another that personal attractions are valued. The Sunday on which Susan and her lover were to be asked in church was fast approaching, when she half sadly, half sportively, thus addressed him: "You had better go to Mr. Sandford, George, and tell him not to say any thing about us in church. It would never do to be a bride with such eyes as these;" and she tried to smile, though she was more inclined to weep. "There will be plenty of time for your eyes to get quite well, Susan, before we are out-asked."