As he said nothing, Mary continued, more playfully, " It
is well enough for a lover in doubt of the good will of the
object of his suit, to be timid and without words, but for
one who knows he possesses the heart of his mistress to lose
his tongue is very rehable evidence that he has, temporarily
at least, lost his reason."

"Well, Mary," said Holyoke, with a sigh that would
have seemed painful if it had not been ludicrous, " I hope I
shall recover fi-om this in time, but cold water makes rather
a serious bath for a man in a fever."

"I see," exclaimed Mary, "the crisis is past! That last
speech is decidedly a symj)tom of amendment."

And then both, with a sense of the ludicrousness of the
scene, and a realization of a hundred sillinesses in the past,
laughed until Holyoke's horse, apparently astonished, turned
his head around and looked them in the face. The remain-
der of the distance to the summit of the hill was occupied
with practical Christian conversation, with promises of daily
remembrance in prayer, and with a conference upon mat-
ters connected with an event which it had been decided
should take place in the following autumn. At length they
saw John returning, and Holyoke, pausing, took Mary's
hand within his own, and kissing her tenderly, exclaimed,
" May God have you in his holy keeping !" Then mounting
his horse with a leap that showed him again in possession
of his strength and his resolution, he rode briskly away,
and left Mary, (oh ! inconsistency of human nature !) lonely,
weak, and weeping, to walk silently back to the almost
forsaken plantation.
CHAPTER XII.
