those unenclosed grazing districts, was a particularly dangerous
occurrence. I have other and more important things to relate, than
to tell of the accident which gave me an opportunity of rescuing
them, it is enough to say, that this event was the beginning of an
acquaintance, reluctantly acquiesced in by them, but eagerly
prosecuted by me. I can hardly tell when intense curiosity became
merged in love, but in less than ten days after my uncle's departure
I was passionately enamoured of Mistress Lucy, as her attendant
called her; carefully--for this I noted well--avoiding any address
which appeared as if there was an equality of station between them.
I noticed also that Mrs. Clarke, the elderly woman, after her first
reluctance to allow me to pay them any attentions had been overcome,
was cheered by my evident attachment to the young girl; it seemed to
lighten her heavy burden of care, and she evidently favoured my
visits to the farmhouse where they lodged. It was not so with Lucy.
A more attractive person I never saw, in spite of her depression of
manner, and shrinking avoidance of me. I felt sure at once, that
whatever was the source of her grief, it rose from no fault of her
own. It was difficult to draw her into conversation; but when at
times, for a moment or two, I beguiled her into talk, I could see a
rare intelligence in her face, and a grave, trusting look in the
soft, gray eyes that were raised for a minute to mine. I made every
excuse I possibly could for going there. I sought wild flowers for
Lucy's sake; I planned walks for Lucy's sake; I watched the heavens
by night, in hopes that some unusual beauty of sky would justify me
in tempting Mrs. Clarke and Lucy forth upon the moors, to gaze at the
great purple dome above.

It seemed to me that Lucy was aware of my love; but that, for some
motive which I could not guess, she would fain have repelled me; but