Town. and Madge gazed out upon the lake, and it would have been an easy matter for a close observer to have marked the difference in the expression of each gaze. While Town.’s look showed that his mind was upon something else besides the beauty of the lake, Madge’s gaze showed that she was gazing, with no little interest and anxiety, and a look of half-expectation, carefully over the bosom of the glimmering sheet. Town. was too deeply absorbed in the tumultuous fluttering of his heart, to note the expression of his fair companion’s face. After a moment’s silence he said: “Wildwood seems unusually calm this morning.” “And lonely,” replied Madge; “I wonder where those flocks of beautiful wild ducks and geese are that are most always seen upon the lake.” “It is very probable that they are lying along in the cool shadow of the shores, or among the reeds and rushes over yonder.” “The lake looks quite lonely without them,” said Madge. “Many pleasant moments have I spent here alone watching the feathered tribes gliding over the water, and--” “Then you love to be alone--you love solitude, Madge?” questioned Town., with a perceptible change in his voice. Madge raised her eyes and gazed into the young man’s face, as if touched by his question. “Are there not times, Town.,” she asked, “when you would rather be alone than in company with your best friend?” “Yes; but not my _dearest_ friend. When I wish for solitude it is only to think and dream of you, dear Madge. Since we first met, my heart has gone out to you in the most passionate love, and I have longed for this moment, Madge, to ask you to be mine--mine forever!” Madge was quite indifferent to this declaration of love. She had long been expecting it, and was prepared. As she lifted her eyes to those of Town., a smile, in which there was a shadow of sarcasm, passed over her face. “You are jesting, Town.,” she said, a little reproachfully. “You do not know the desire of your own heart. When you have thought more of the matter, and consulted your own feelings and mind, you may have reason to feel a pang of regret that you ever asked the wild, wayward daughter of a poor Indian trader to be your wife.” “Madge, do not doubt my affection and judgment in this matter. My heart is immovable, and I love you all the more of your humble life. It would not be a marriage of a prince and peasant, but two whose love I trust would be equal, as well as their birth.” “Town.,” said Madge, and there was a slight tremor in her voice, “are you sure that Clara Bryant has no claim upon your heart? I know Clara loves you, Town., and would make you a better wife than I.” “Until I saw you, Madge, I thought I did love Clara, but since our first meeting I find it was but pure friendship compared with the love I hold for you.” “Then your love for me is of but a momentary growth. Dismiss me from your mind and you will find that the heart will go back to its first love.”