her off; I dogged her to her obscurity, that I might enjoy my triumph;
but death thwarted me as you had done. Yet I will do one act of
mercy--she sleeps beneath the grave where we met yesterday; and the lady
before whom you wept--is your own daughter."

He cast down the letter, and exclaimed, "My child! my long lost child!"
And, in speechless joy, the father and the daughter rushed to each
other's arms. Shall we add more? The elder Sommerville left his native
land, which he never again disgraced with his presence. William and
Elizabeth wandered by the hill-side in bliss, catching love and
recollections from the scene. In a few months her father bestowed on him
her hand, and Mrs. Douglas, in joy and in pride, bestowed upon both her
blessing.




THE BURGHER'S TALES.

THE BROWNIE OF THE WEST BOW.


I cannot say so much for the authenticity of the legend I am now to
relate, as I have been able to do for some of the others in this
collection; but that is no reason, I hope, for its failing to interest
the reader, who makes it a necessary condition of his acceptance, that a
legend shall keep within the bounds of human nature: not that any one of
us can say what these bounds are, for every day of our experience is
extending them in both the inner and outer worlds; and we never can be
very sure whether the things which rise upon the distant horizon of our