Time and reflection, mutual sympathy, and a happy knack of always hoping for the best, completed their resignation, and prosperity and peace once more attended their efforts and desires. The farm was found quite ample in what was left, to employ them all, and satisfy their hearts. In fact there was more land left than Fabens could manage without much assistance, and more than a supply of all that heart could wish.

They seemed to enjoy home and prosperity, and everything around them better than before; for the loss and anxiety given them by Fairbanks awakened a new appreciation of all good, and taught them to be more thankful for what they could call their own. They also learned how to exercise a will that conquered all misfortune, and rested in a faith that overcame the world. As they looked back to early life, and counted all the sorrows they had seen, though some had been heavy as humanity can bear, they could not select one and say, it had not seemed to soften their hearts, and open to their minds a sense of the goodness of God and the mercy of every providence. "I can cry with David," said Fabens, "it is good for me that I was afflicted, although it is difficult, at all times to see in what way good out of evil may come."

After this, George Ludlow was employed to assist in managing the farm, and the progress of time only quickened the increase of their love for him. He grew manly still more in appearance, though to strangers he was homely; he grew intelligent still more in mind, and his society in that home was not its smallest joy.

And Fanny Fabens had now attained to full maturity, and she presented a person and a mind that all admired and loved. Her form had a round and erect development; and her step was as light, and her carriage as proud as the colt's that ranged the hills. Her hair was a shaded and glossy flaxen now, and her eyes were a darker blue. Her beauty was unchanging as the Pleiades, in all situations; for whether she hetchelled flax in the kitchen, or spun wool in the barn; whether peeling apples, or piecing quilts; whether churning butter or dressing cheese; whether gleaning wheat or picking berries; or dancing at a wedding, or singing hymns at church; she was the same rosy, brisk and brightly smiling creature; the same full, free and glad-hearted life; giving grace and honor to labor; light and beauty to nature; joy and virtue to amusements; peace and holiness to worship, and love and happiness to home.

One day when Fabens happened to stop at the tailor's, in the village, he thought to inquire into Frisbie's story, concerning the handkerchief, which he would have them believe George Ludlow had stolen. The tailor was positive in denying the truth of the whole affair. It was false, he said, and much like many other lies they had told.

The next time Fabens saw Troffater, he inquired if Tilly knew any evil of George Ludlow, or if he ever warned Fairbanks and Frisbie against him.

"They never said so much as boo, about 'im to me, nor I to them; that's honest," said Troffater. "But I tell you, Fabens, I never thought a great 'eal o' them scamps. I itched to give you a jog, when they come so thick around you. You was green as a mess o' cowslops, or you'd a seen what they was arter. I thought you'd git nipt a grain, or my name wasn't Troffater. But I dasn't tell you what I thought on 'em. You wouldn't a' b'lieved me, I ben such a witch with my word. I spose you know the fellers have been heern from? They run out of all they cabbaged here perty quick. Frisbie, they say, is jugged up in jail, and there's better men sometimes hung than that Jock Fairbanks. I guess some o' the gals are kindy sorry they sot their caps for 'em! The Faddle gals, I guess, would give all their old shews, if they'd a' kep away from the whelps. My gals is all in titters about it; and Beck Teezle, says she, 'I wonder, says she, if Des and Luce Faddle, says she, will feel above us now?' They couldn't git me to dew their dirty Work, with all their ile and palaver. I bought a pitchfork on 'em, once in hayin', and got a platter there when Josephyne was married, and I paid 'em tew in mink skins; and that's all I had to dew with 'em. You lost a good 'eal by 'em, didn't you, Square?"

"A thousand dollars," said Fabens. "It seemed a great sum to lose, at first. It was too much for me. But it has been a good lesson to me, in many ways. The lesson perhaps will give me my money's worth."

"That is a big sum to luse, I swanny! I wish I had a jogged your elbow a grain. I seen threw the cunnin' scamps the fust time. Didn't you know, Square, that Fairbanks was gray as a wharf rat, when he let his hair alone?" said Troffater.

"No, I did not. He was not gray; his hair was a glossy black," said
Fabens.

"Ha! ha! ha! you was greener 'n cowslops, or you'd a seen that was all dye-stuff!" said Troffater. "Why, I seen the gray roots glisten for half an inch, the fust time I seen 'im. But didn't you know 'im, Square? He come from the Hudson."

"I never knew him till he came here," said Fabens.

"But, you've got a clean conscience," said Troffater. "If I had that, I wouldn't lay wake o' nights, nor grow hatchet-faced a great 'eal. I see your cheeks don't fall in, and nobuddy would spose by your looks that you had a great grist o' trouble. Wish I could look as cheerful, and had a bit o' your pleasant peace o' mind."

"But you have forgotten one of my questions; I asked if you knew any ill of George Ludlow," said Fabens.

"All I know, I can tell perty quick," said Troffater, and cooked his quid, and spit through his teeth. "What do you know, Tilly?" asked Fabens.

"I know an awful cuss hangs over the feller," said Troffater.

"How you talk! Curse! what do you mean?" asked Fabens, with emotion, and a searching glance of his large and loving eye: "George Ludlow under a curse?"

"Yis, under a cuss, an' may it please your honor," said Troffater.

"Who pronounced it?" asked Fabens.

"Scriptur!" said Troffater, drawing down his monkey brows over his little, black-and-blue eyes, and looking wise as a magistrate. "Scriptur pernounced the cuss."

"The Scripture!" exclaimed Fabens. "The Scripture pronounced a curse!
What do you mean? What does the Scripture say to condemn George
Ludlow?"

"A good 'eal, I guess," said Troffater. "The Scripture says—'Woe unto him that all men speak well of;' and George Ludlow is the man!"

"O, you will be Tilly Troffater, as long as you live!" said Fabens. "Why can you not be serious once in a while? You are getting to be an old man, and such levity shocks one's reverence for your gray hairs. But if that is all you know, I am sure you never spoke ill of the young man."

"Not I, Fabens, not I," said Troffater, sobering down at this mild rebuke. "He's a likely feller. He'll dew wal enough, I'll warrant. Tell Fan, for me, if she gits George Ludlow, her fortin will be fixed. A good many young bucks, that feels above him, might thank the powers, if they knowed as much as he, and was half as likely. Wish I had ollers did as wal as George, and my mind was peaceful as his'n. But I must go hum. I calkilate to start on a journey to-morror, for the Holland Purchase, and I've a little fixin' to dew."

So they separated, and Fabens went home, musing in his heart, and inquiring what fresh remorse could have seized on Troffater's conscience, and what might be the object of his journey.

Under the joint management of Fabens and George Ludlow, for a period of good prices and great prosperity, the farm yielded a return of a portion of the sum lost by Fairbanks, and a year or so was anticipated as time sufficient to retrieve the entire misfortune, if misfortune it might really now be called; and place the family and their young friend in very desirable circumstances. The smaller farm yielded an extra increase for receiving the care and culture formerly bestowed on the fields that were sold; the seasons seemed more genial; the rains more timely, and the sun more liberal in his bland, warm beams, than for years gone by. The beneficence of God was pictured out on all the glowing sky; blooming in all the fields and woods, and sung by the birds and breezes. Lessons of grief, quite as much as those of joy, had taught them to discover the signs of that beneficence; to rejoice in all its light, and repose in its blissful promise.

Mr. and Mrs. Fabens had arrived at a period of life when old age was approaching, yet most tardy in its advances; and their relation as parents was most interesting; and their convictions and sentiments, as trusting Christians, gave daily refreshment to their souls.

As one good consequence of the late trial, our excellent farmer considered his cure of a love of praise, which had grown insensibly upon him, and commenced already to make him unhappy, by warping his independence, and making him almost a slave to the vain opinions of men. As another effect in which he discovered a blessing, it weakened his worldly cares, and taught him to set his affections on things above.

There was a time of general happiness in Summerfield. Some of the old people had passed away; among whom Mr. Flaxman and old Mr. and Mrs. Waldron were much lamented. Many worthy sons were left behind; and several who had been prodigals were now reformed, to render the old neighborhood pleasant and happy.

Mr. and Mrs. Wilson were still alive, and possessed a fine property, and rejoiced in the society of several dutiful children. Colwell and his wife were still alive and happy. The Teezles had not succeeded greatly in worldly affairs; but they had a home and a good family, and none saw pleasanter days. Uncle Walter and Aunt Huldah lived in a ripe old age; and he loved a hunt and a fine story, and she loved stubbing and scouring still; and could boast the whitest linen, the whitest floor, and clearest maple sugar. And these had all learnt wisdom since the feast at Aunt Polly Waldron's, and were more refined in thought and speech.

Tilly Troffater carried still about him, as he did his scars, a few of his early habits and characteristics; as for instance, his love of levity slightly corrected; his love of indolence, and an occasional glass of whisky; his swaggering loquacity, a little improved; and once in a while the mischief of the busybody. But all regarded him, on the whole, as a reformed man, and were quick to give him credit and encouragement, where they could see any change for good; expecting that he would carry a few peculiarities with him to his grave.

George Ludlow was solidly esteemed and affectionately regarded as a son by Mr. and Mrs. Fabens, while Fanny responded to his sentiments, and answered his heart with something deeper, and more a principle of her soul, than common passional love. He was esteemed by the neighbors as quite a second Fabens; and those few vain youths and maidens who had affected contempt for his humble parentage and life, were now compelled to blush for their heartless folly, and respect him. The week arrived in which George and Fanny were to be married, and great preparations were made for the happy bridal day.