whose passion she was not conscious.

William Fielding, George's brother, was in love with his brother's
sweetheart, but though he trembled with pleasure when she was near
him, he never looked at her except by stealth; he knew he had no
business to love her.

On the morning of our tale Susan's father, old Merton, had walked over
from his farm to "The Grove," and was inspecting a field behind
George's house, when he was accosted by his friend, Mr. Meadows, who
had seen him, and giving his horse to a boy to hold had crossed the
stubbles to speak to him.

Mr. Meadows was not a common man, and merits some preliminary notice.

He was what is called in the country "a lucky man"; everything he had
done in life had prospered.

The neighbors admired, respected, and some of them even hated this
respectable man, who had been a carter in the midst of them, and now
at forty years of age was a rich corn-factor and land-surveyor.

"All this money cannot have been honestly got," said the envious ones
among themselves; yet they could not put their finger on any dishonest
action he had done. To the more candid the known qualities of the man
accounted for his life of success.

This John Meadows had a cool head, an iron will, a body and mind alike
indefatigable, and an eye never diverted from the great objects of
sober industrious men--wealth and respectability. He had also the