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husband's eyes open and his lips moving.
Standing over him she heard him say
"Is it true?"

"True! how can you ask me such a
question! I swear it is not."

"No, no, not the last part of course! but
any of it, that young manwas he fond of
youwere you engaged?"

A bright flush suffused her face, but she
answered steadily, " We were."

"And what made you break with him?
Why did you quarrel? You don't
answer. Is the letter right? Did you give
him up for me? Did you let my position,
my money, weigh more with you
than his love and his heart? Did you do

"And suppose I didwhat then?" said
Marian, with flashing eyes— " are you here
to plead his cause? Have I not been a
dutiful and a proper wife to you? You
yourself have just spoken of this vile
slander with the scorn it deserves! Of
what then do you complain?"

"Of nothing. I complain of nothing,
save perhaps of your ignorance of me!
Ah, good Heavens! did you know me so
little as to think that your happiness was
not my aim, not so much my own! Did
you not know that my love for you was so
little selfish, that if I had had the Ieast dream
of your engagement to this young man, I
should have taken such delight in forwarding
it and providing for you both. You
would have been near me still, you would
have been a daughter to me, and——Lift
me up! the cordialquick!" and he fell
back in a faint.

Dr. Osborne was sent for, and came at
once, but it was plain to all that Mr. Creswell's
end was at hand. He had two severe
paroxysms of pain, and then lay perfectly
still and tranquil. Marian was sitting by
his bedside, and in the middle of the night
she felt his hand plucking at the sleeve of
her gown. She roused herself and looked
at him. His eyes were open, and there was
a bright, happy expression on his thin face.
His mind was wandering far away, back
to the early days of his poverty and his
struggles, and she who had shared both
was with him. He pulled Marian to him,
and she leaned eagerly forward; but it was
not of her he was thinking. " Jenny!" he
said, and his tongue reverted to the old
familiar dialect which it had not used for
so many years —"Jenny! coom away,
lass! Taim's oop!— that's t' mill bell
ringin'! Thou'rt a brave lass, and we've
had hard taim of it; but we're near t'
end now! Kiss me, Jenny! Always good
and brave, lassalways—— " And so he


ALONG the valley of the Medway, between
Tunbridge and Maidstone, through Tunbridge
Wells by way of Frant, Wadhurst, Ticehurst,
and Mayfield, to Battle and Rye, one traverses
the principal hop districts of Kent and Sussex.
It is part of the geological formation which passes
from Hastings to Tunbridge Wells, and rises in
lofty hills at Crowborough in Ashdown forest.
The hills are irregular and tossed about in all
directions, for the earth's surface was the scene of
strange vagaries before it settled to its present
form. The district is as mixed in soil as in
outline. Much of the land is very good,
especially among the hops. In the midst of
the rich farming of Kent one remembers with
pleasure Cobbett's love of rural pursuits, his
attachment to his Indian corn and his bonnet-
grass, and his hatred of the potato, that "soul-
debasing root." Attracted by a creeper with a
very handsome blossom, growing over some
houses in the main street of Tunbridge, I
inquired its name. The name was lost, but the
plants, I was told, had been brought there by
William Cobbett.

Around Tunbridge there are various little
streams and brooks running into the Medway;
among these, the hops are found. Following
the river towards its source, through Hartfield
to East Grinstead, where it is but a little
brook, I find that hops still choose to grow
on, or near, its banks. From Tunbridge
to Maidstonefourteen milesthrough
Hadlow, Peckham, Mereworth, Wateringbury,
Teston, and Barming, there are hops and
orchards all the way. The prettiest orchards
are those in which rows of apple-trees are
mixed with filberts, cherries, and other low-
growing trees. Filberts and cob-nuts do not
want so much sun as the larger fruits; they
need shelter, and they do not suffer from a
little shade. The apple-trees, therefore, are
planted wide apart, as tall standards, and are
allowed to grow to a considerable height; under
them, grow smaller trees, filberts, cherries,
plums, damsons, and sometimes currants and
gooseberries. The lower trees are kept small,
and the filberts are pruned as bushes. They are
all planted in rows, but a mixed orchard in full
bearing looks like one mass of foliage and fruit.
Inside, it is a busy scene. The orchards are
often secluded within high hedges and close
gates, and when picking is going on a merry
humming is heard from within. The cost of
picking a good crop of apples is from twopence
to threepence a bushel. They are sent to
London in bushel and half-bushel baskets (sieves).
These belong to the salesman, who often sells
and delivers the fruit, without unpacking it.
Very few pears are seen in Kent; they prefer
stiffer soils; the apple-tree delights in land