An hour later, and a perfumed billet-doux bore to the widow's
cottage the compliments of Captain George H. Marshall, U. S. A. He
had, indeed, come to Melrose at last.

Obtaining a limited leave of absence from the army, he had come home
to visit his kindred, and his friend at Melrose. The time was
necessarily short. Only one week could he spend at Melrose-one short
seven days-days crowned with a golden halo in the after years. To
the young school-mistress these were days bright with hope and
happiness, bright as the effulgent sun that ushered them in, one by
one. Days, too, that she parted with regretfully, as each one's sun
went down. Six of these golden days were passed-passed in pleasant
converse, in singing, in reading, in hoping, and the seventh was
drawing nigh.

"Mr. Marshall," said Lizzie, on the evening of the sixth day, "will
you leave Melrose without seeing my school, and telling me what you
think of my avocation?"

"Certainly not, if you will allow me the pleasure, and to-morrow is
the only time I have left," he replied.

"Well, then, come to-morrow if you like, and see me enthroned in my
kingdom. My school opens at eight o'clock, for in this country we
teach a long, honest day. Our people know nothing of the five-hour
system," she replied merrily.

"Then, Miss Heartwell, if you will grant me the pleasure, I'll call
early in the morning, and we'll stroll by the river-side. I must
tell you further of my coming to Melrose, and then I'll see you in