“For the whole distance, I am happy to say. The plantation of White Cliffs and the farm of Hardbargain join. Our journey terminates at L——.”

“Really! Why this is excellent! So, instead of being separated, we shall travel all the way together, and then continue to be neighbors for some weeks! Miss Kavanagh, I am overjoyed.”

There was not much traveling at that season of the year, so our party of three had the coach to themselves, and Colonel Conyers devoted himself with great assiduity to the comfort of the ladies.

At the end of the second day, just as the level beams of the setting sun were gilding all the village windows, the stage rolled into L——.

There, before the little tavern door, waited Mrs. Clifton’s old-fashioned carriage.

“Did you notify the family of White Cliffs of your intended arrival here to-day?” asked Mrs. Clifton, of Colonel Conyers.

“No, madam! My journey was resolved upon so suddenly—out of ‘my grief and my impatience’ at the supposed loss of your own and Miss Kavanagh’s society—that I had no time to write.”

“Ah! that is the reason why their carriage is not waiting for you. Colonel Conyers, if you will take a seat with us to Hardbargain, and rest for a few hours or a few days as you please, we shall be very glad, and we shall furnish you with a conveyance to White Cliffs whenever you wish to go.”

Colonel Conyers expressed himself but too happy to accept Mrs. Clifton’s invitation, and they all entered the old-fashioned carriage, and set out for Hardbargain. The farm was nine miles distant, and the road the very roughest, even of mountain turnpikes. Colonel Conyers ventured to wonder how any carriage could stand it, and surmised that R—— County must be blessed with the best wheelwrights in the world—to which Mrs. Clifton replied that they had the very best to be met with anywhere.

It was ten o’clock at night when they reached Hardbargain, but they found the hall lighted up, fires blazing in the parlor, and the dining-room, and a substantial supper waiting for the order of the mistress. The farm-house looked cheerful, hospitable, and inviting; and Colonel Conyers rubbed his hands in delight. He remained over night. The next day was Christmas, and nothing but the binding engagement to render an account of himself to the beautiful Georgia at least by Christmas, could have forced him to White Cliffs that day. He accepted Mrs. Clifton’s cordial invitation to come over often while he remained in the neighborhood. In fact, Mrs. Clifton had seen that Colonel Conyers was very much pleased with Catherine, and felt desirous that he should have an opportunity of winning the affections of her favorite. Colonel Conyers took the largest advantage of Mrs. Clifton’s hospitality, and not even the charms of the syren of White Cliffs, could wile him away from his daily evening ride over to Hardbargain. And so, after a few weeks—as there is no accounting for tastes, and as the most extraordinary things sometimes really do happen—it turned out that Colonel Conyers actually did lay his heart, hand and fortune at the feet of the humble girl whom his own subordinate officer, Captain Clifton, had despised, and, farthermore, that he was rejected by her! Yes! gratefully, kindly, but firmly and finally rejected! And full of disappointment, humiliation and sorrow, the gallant Colonel abruptly concluded his visit, and returned to town.