_Annie_. No! no! Has Alaska turned against us? Why, it was but yesterday
I saw him with Leslie in yonder field. 'Tis false; it must be. Surely he
could not harm us.

_Mrs. G_. And false, I trust it is. At least till it is proved
otherwise, Helen must not hear of it.

_Annie_. And why?

_Mrs. Grey_. She needs no caution, and it were useless to add to the
idle fear with which she regards them all, already. Some dark fancy
possesses her to-day; I have marked it myself.

_Annie_. It is just two years to-morrow, mother, since Helen's wedding
day, or rather, that sad day that should have seen her bridal; and it
cannot be that she has quite forgotten Everard Maitland. Alas, he seemed
so noble!

_Mrs. G_. Hush! Never name him. Your sister is too high-hearted to waste
a thought on him. Tory! Helen is no love-lorn damsel, child, to pine for
an unworthy love. See the rose on that round cheek,--it might teach that
same haughty loyalist, could he see her now, what kind of hearts 'tis
that we patriots wear, whose strength they think to trample. Where are
you going, Annie?

_Annie_. Not beyond the orchard-wall. I will only stroll down the path
here, just to breathe this lovely air a little; indeed, there's no fear
of my going further now.

[_Exit_.