just discovered yesterday that his true name is Mark Timberley, and that he has been in the Philadelphia Penitentiary. But don't let us stop to say any more about him, for I heard him tell the driver to take them to the Providence Railroad, and the cars have n't gone out yet. You may find them before they get off."

Mr. Prium waited for nothing but to put on his broad-brimmed beaver, and reached the depôt just as the cars were starting. He jumped on, however, and went to Providence. There, the first persons whom he saw come from the cars were Mr. Percy and Miss Gunn.

Caleb Prium immediately stepped up to them, and, addressing Mr. Percy in a low tone, said, "Thee need n't trouble thyself to conduct my niece any farther, Mark Timberley. I will do that myself. Harriet Ann, take my arm, if thee does not wish to be led to the Philadelphia Penitentiary."

Harriet Ann dropped the arm upon which she had been leaning, and Mr. Percy, alias Mark Timberley, walked off, very, very fast, indeed. Caleb Prium attended to the luggage, and, taking the next train back to Boston, without a word of explanation, conducted Harriet Ann quietly back

to his own house. He handed her out of the carriage, led her into the front parlour, and closed the door.

he.

"Harriet Ann, where was thee going?" said

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Going to be married to Mr. Percy," was the

reply.

"He was a villain.

Where is thee going

now?" continued Caleb Prium.

"Going!" exclaimed the astonished girl; "where should I go?"

"The carriage waits for thee to decide. I cannot have thee stay under my roof till thee learns to respect thyself," said the Quaker decidedly.

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Forgive me, O, forgive me, for mercy's sake, Uncle Prium, and I will listen to your advice and try to be all that you wish," said Harriet Ann, with streaming eyes and clasped hands.

"And can thee give up thy foolish, mistaken notions of being a lady, and try to become a good and useful woman?" asked he.

"I will, I will indeed, for I know I am nothing now but a silly girl, who has been led away by wrong notions."

"There, now, thee is coming to thy senses. God grant that thy penitential tears may have

their well-spring in thy heart." And Caleb Prium ordered the coachman to bring in the luggage. Mrs. Prium's curiosity led her to make further inquiries of Harriet Ann. She learned that Percy, alias Timberley, had attracted her attention first in the street, by a pair of large, dark eyes, black, curling hair, whiskers and mustaches, and by his splendid and fashionable dress; that he had found an opportunity to be introduced to her, and had often met her at her friend, Miss Stiltaker's. He pretended to be a rich Southern planter, and had induced Harriet Ann to elope with him on the plea that he knew positively that her uncle would never consent to her marriage with a Southerner, a plea utterly false, for Caleb Prium was not a narrow-minded, prejudiced man.

--

Harriet Ann's head was filled with silly, romantic notions, and she thought it would be a very brilliant affair to elope with Mr. Percy,—one that would make a great noise in the fashionable world, and be announced in the newspapers through the length and breadth of the land.

In the cars he had taken her purse and watch for safe keeping, and that may account, in part, for his going off upon a full trot when Caleb Prium met him at Providence.

CHAPTER XXVI.

A NEW FRIEND.

It was a glorious sunset, after a lovely day in June. The evening star was just showing its silvery light in the soft, blue western sky. The Morris family were seated in the porch. Thoughts sweet and pensive, thoughts of early childhood, were gliding through the mind of Beulah Morris. They were interrupted by the stopping of a carriage at the gate.

"It is Mrs. Whately's carriage," exclaimed she, almost flying down the front-yard.

The coach-door was opened, and out stepped a tall, fine-looking young man, who handed out Mrs. Whately. Beulah was in her arms in a moment, and, after the cordial embrace, Mrs. Whately turned to her companion and introduced him as her son, Winthrop Whately.

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By this time the Squire had joined them. "Welcome, welcome to Baxter, Cousin Whately," was his hearty salutation. Happy to see you, and your son too, for I suppose this is Winthrop. Why, I have n't seen you since you were six years old, and yet I should have known you the world over; you've got the real Morris nose. Come in, come in. Coachman,” he continued, "drive into that big gate yonder, and put your horses in that new barn; this time, Cousin Whately, I shan't allow you to send them to the tavern.”

And kind Mrs. Morris came forward with her welcome, and there was wondering how Mrs. Whately could have spared her only son five years, and warm congratulations upon his return, -and then it was proposed that they should enjoy the balmy evening in the porch.

"But supper, supper," said the Squire.

"But that will do two or three hours hence," Mrs. Whately said, taking a seat in the porch.

"How tastefully you have arranged your garden and grounds, and fitted up the house. And, Beulah, you love roses as well as ever, I see, by that sweet bud in your hair."

Beulah's blush at this allusion rivalled the damask bud that she had carelessly placed in her dark hair.