“My dear Lapwing, if you love your old aunty, come immediately back in the carriage.  And, by the way, my dear, I wish you would, either in going or coming, take the post-office, and get the letters and papers,” said Mrs. Waugh.

“Let it be in going, then, Mrs. Waugh, for I have not been to the post-office for two days, and there may be something there for us also,” said Marian.

“Very well, bright Hebe; as you please, of course,” replied good Henrietta.

And so they parted.  Did either dream how many suns would rise and set, how many seasons come and go, how many years roll by, before the two should meet again?

The carriage was driven rapidly on to the village, and drawn up at the post-office.  Old Oliver jumped down, and went in to make the necessary inquiries.  They waited impatiently until he reappeared, bringing one large letter.  There was nothing for Luckenough.

The great double letter was for Marian.  She took it, and as the carriage was started again, and drawn toward Old Fields, she examined the post-mark and superscription.  It was a foreign letter, mailed from London, and superscribed in the handwriting of her oldest living friend, the pastor who had attended her brother in his prison and at the scene of his death.

Marian, with tearful eyes and eager hands, broke the seal and read, while Jacquelina watched her.  For more than half an hour Jacko watched her, and then impatience overcame discretion in the bosom of the fairy, and she suddenly exclaimed: 

“Well, Marian!  I do wonder what can ail you?  You grow pale, and then you grow red; your bosom heaves, the tears come in your eyes, you clasp your hands tightly together as in prayer, then you smile and raise your eyes as in thanksgiving!  Now, I do wonder what it all means?”

“It means, dear Jacquelina, that I am the most grateful creature upon the face of the earth, just now; and to-morrow I will tell you why I am so,” said Marian, with a rosy smile.  And well she might be most grateful and most happy, for that letter had brought her assurance of fortune beyond her greatest desires.  On reading the news, her very first thought had been of Thurston.  Now the great objection of the miser to their marriage would be removed—­the great obstacle to their immediate union overcome.  Thurston would be delivered from temptation; she would be saved anxiety and suspense.  “Yes; I will meet him this evening; I cannot keep this blessed news from him a day longer than necessary, for this fortune that has come to me will all be his own!  Oh, how rejoiced I am to be the means of enriching him!  How much good we can both do!”

These were the tumultuous, generous thoughts that sent the flush to Marian’s cheeks, the smiles to her lips, and the tears to her eyes; that caused those white fingers to clasp, and those clear eyes to rise to Heaven in thankfulness, as she folded up her treasured letter and placed it in her bosom.