“Exactly! but his highness, Prince Starlight, the Black Prince, would not stand it—he kicked, and reared, and plunged, and tried to excite his comrade to run away. And when his small-souled comrade would not, he bit him severely on the neck, as a punishment for helping to keep him prisoner. And then Gardiner Green offered ‘the black fiend’ to any one for half the price he gave for him. It was just at this juncture of affairs that I had run down here to see mother again before going the voyage I expected to sail on, and hearing of this, I gladly purchased the horse at half-price, and returned him to the stables at Heath Hall, for the use of Hagar if ever she should return—for, Hagar, it is demonstrated that he will not serve man, woman, or child, but you.” “I know that,” said Hagar, “and Gusty, I thank you, very sincerely—but I must repay you.” “Be hanged if you shall! I will give him to you, but as for _selling him to you_! I’d cut his throat first! I was very willing to pay a good price for him, only I was enraged with that old brute, Gardiner Green, for having the atrocious assurance to buy your horse and dogs without your consent; for, of course, Hagar, I knew perfectly well that you would never have agreed to the sale, and so I would not be generous! I was too glad to punish his fault through his tenderest point, his pocket.” “But,” said Hagar, choking with the unavailing effort to speak _a name_ that had not passed her lips since its owner was lost to her sight, “_he_ sold them, and of course my consent was understood or unnecessary.” This was the first occasion upon which even the most distant allusion was made between Hagar and Gusty to the party that was nevertheless ever present to the minds of both. Gusty soon after arose from the table, and in taking leave of Hagar, promised that if it were possible for his mother to venture through the deep snow, he would bring her over in the afternoon. * * * * * The family of Grove Cottage had just arisen from breakfast. The parson had just buttoned up his greatcoat, set his hat upon his head, and was drawing on his wool-lined gloves for a walk to the village, when the door opened, and Gusty entered. “Oh! how do you do?” exclaimed Mr. Buncombe, slightly starting back with surprise, and then cordially shaking his hand. Gusty, returning his salute, passed on to where his mother sat at the head of the table. Emily arose with tears in her eyes. Gusty caught and folded her warmly to his bosom. Mr. Buncombe returned, and laying his hand upon his step-son’s shoulder, said—“Gusty, my boy, I am called to the sick bed of one of my parishioners, and must leave you. I am sorry, but I shall meet you here at dinner?” “Yes, sir. Oh! never mind me, my dear sir.”