William Bernard, then, had never told his love, nor did Miss
Armstrong dream of its existence. To her he was the dear friend of
her childhood, and nothing more. His mother and sister suspected
the condition of his heart, and it was with calm satisfaction in the
former, and a glow of delight in the latter, that they looked forward
to the time when the attentions and amiable qualities of the son and
brother should ripen the friendship of the unimpassioned beauty into
love. Of this result, with a pardonable partiality they did not doubt.
With this explanation of the feelings of the two young people towards
each other at this time, we will accompany them on a morning walk to
the Falls of the Yaupáae.

It was one of those bright, glorious days which the poet Herrick calls
the "bridal of the earth and sky." From a heaven intensely blue, the
sun, without a cloud, "looked like a God" over his dominions. Some
rain had fallen in the night, and the weather suddenly clearing up
towards morning, had hardened the moisture into ice. Every bush, every
tree, the fences, were covered with a shining mail, from which
and from the crisped surface of the snow, the rays of the sun were
reflected, and filled the air with a sparkling light. Transmuted, as
by a magician's wand, the bare trees were no longer ordinary trees.
They were miracles of vegetable silver and crystal. Mingled among
them, the evergreens glittered like masses of emerald hung with
diamonds. Aladdin, in the enchanted cavern, saw not so brilliant a
spectacle.

The narrow road which led to the Falls descended a declivity, where it
left the main street until it came to within a few feet of the surface
of the river, then curving round the base of the hill, it skirted the