my veins.
Scarcely had the words passed my lips,
when our guide, who was riding in ad
vance, suddenly drew rein, brought his
horse to a halt, and exclaimed :
"She comes!"
Ere we had time to inquire who, we be held, much to our surprise, the beautiful Prairie Flower dashing up the valley we were descending, directly in our front. Of course there was no means of avoiding her, had we designed doing so, and ac cordingly we rode slowly forward to meet her. As we advanced, I could perceive that her pale features looked unusually care-worn, and that her lips were com pressed, as by some inward struggle to appear entirely at her ease. As we met, she said, half in jest and half in earnest, while a slight flush tinted her cheeks and made her sweet countenance look lovely beyond description :
"Good morning, my friends. Not running away, surely?"
"Why," I answered, in some confusion, "we have bidden our friends of the village a last adieu, and are, as you see, already on our journey."
"Indeed! you surprise me! And could you not have deferred your departure till my return?"
"Why, the fact is we that is I we waited three days the time mentioned by you and as we thought that as you had not made your appearance that "
"I would not return at all," she rejoined, completing the sentence which my embar rassment forced me to leave unfinished. "I truly grieve, my friends," she contin ued, with a look of sorrowful reproach, "that, having known me so long, you should be led to doubt my word. Did I ever deceive you, that you thought I might again?"
"Never! never!" cried both Huntly and I in the same breath, while the con science of each accused him of having done wrong. "But as the three days had ex pired," I added, by way of justification, "and as none of the villagers knew whither you had gone, we feared to tarry longer, lest the coming storms of winter should catch us on the mountains."
'Perhaps, then, you were right after ail," she said with a sigh. " True, I did not return so soon as I expected, on
account of an unforseen delay; and though I did request you not to depart till I came back, and though I fondly relied on seeing you again, still I must admit that your pro mise has been faithfully kept, and that you had a perfect right to go, and I none to think you would stay to your own incon venience."
This was said in a tone so sad, with such modest simplicity, that, knowing the true state of her heart, and remembering that to her generous nature and untiring watchfulness and care we both owed our lives, every word sunk like burning lava into my heart, and I felt condemned be yond the power of self-defence. For a moment I knew not what nor how to re ply, while Prairie Flower dropped her eyea to the ground and seemed hurt to the very soul.
"Forgive us, sweet Prairie Flower!" I at length exclaimed, to the promptings of my better nature. " Forgive us both, fof having done you wrong! I cannot exone rate myself, whatever my friend may do. I had no right to doubt you no right to wound your feelings by leaving in a man* ner so cold, so contrary to the dictates of friendship and gratitude. But still, dear Prairie Flower, if you knew all my motives, you would, perhaps, blame me less "
She looked up at the last words, caught the expression of my eye, and seemed to comprehend my meaning at a glance; foi she colored deeply, turned aside her he and quickly answered :
"I do not blame you. Let it pass. Bi whither are you bound?"
"To Fort Laramie."
"I trust, then, I have saved you thai journey."
"Indeed!" I exclaimed in surprise, a; a new idea suddenly flashed across mj mind. " You have been there, then?"
"I have."
"And all for us?"
"But for you, I do not think I shoul< have gone at present."
"God bless your noble, generous soul! ' I cried, feeling more condemned than evei "How fortunate that we have met you that we can at least make the slight repa ration of apology and regret for havia misconstrued your motives! What mm have been your feelings, had y
