hour of midnight, in the silent churchyard, standing over the grave of
Mrs. Morton. This gave rise to not a few whisperings respecting the
birth of poor Elizabeth. He had no children; and a nephew, who resided
in his house, was understood to be his heir. William Sommerville was
about a year older than our fair orphan; and ever, as he could escape
the eye of his uncle, he would fly to the village to seek out Elizabeth
as a playmate. And now, while she tended the few sheep, he would steal
round the hills, and placing himself by her side, teach her the lessons
he had that day been taught, while his arm in innocence rested on her
neck, their glowing cheeks touched each other, and her golden curls
played around them. Often were their peaceful lessons broken by the
harsh voice and the blows of his uncle. But still William stole to the
presence of his playmate and pupil, until he had completed his
fourteenth year; when he was to leave Thorndean, preparatory to entering
the army. He was permitted to take a hasty farewell of the villagers,
for they all loved the boy; but he went only to the cottage of Mrs.
Douglas. As he entered, Elizabeth wept, and he also burst into tears.
Their aged friend beheld the yearnings of a young passion that might
terminate in sorrow; and taking his hand, she prayed God to prosper him,
and bade him farewell. She was leading him to the door, when Elizabeth
raised her tearful eyes; he beheld them, and read their meaning, and,
leaping forward, threw his arms round her neck, and printed the first
kiss on her forehead! "Do not forget me, Elizabeth," he cried, and
hurried from the house.

Seven years from this period passed away. The lovely girl was now
transformed into the elegant woman, in the summer majesty of her beauty.
For four years Elizabeth had kept a school in the village, to which her
gentleness and winning manners drew prosperity; and her grey-haired
benefactress enjoyed the reward of her benevolence. Preparations were