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UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREE.

turned into the house whistling an air in such ghastly jerks and starts, that whistling seemed to be the act the very farthest removed from that which was instinctive in such a youth.

The letter was left as ordered: the next morning came and passed—and no answer. The next. The next. Friday night came. Dick resolved that if no answer or sign were given by her that next day, on Sunday he would meet her face to face, and have it all out by word of mouth.

'Dick,' said his father, coming in from the garden at that moment—in each hand a hive of bees tied in a cloth to prevent their egress—'I think you'd better take these two swarms of bees to Mrs. Maybold's to-morrow, instead o' me, and I'll go wi' Smiler and the wagon.'

It was a relief; for Mrs. Maybold, the vicar's mother, who had just taken into her

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