sant recollections and anxious forebodings to allow him for some time to forget them in sleep.

Nor could Chritty, any more than her lover, bury the singular occurrence of the evening in oblivious slumber. As she lay in bed, it furnished continued food for fresh conjectures and painful misgivings. She remembered to have heard a vague rumour of some love affair in which Middleton had been engaged at Cambridge it could now be hardly doubted that Miss Horton was the object of his attachment; and though he declared that he had never seen her since he left college, he did not affirm that he had never corresponded with her; he did not deny that he carried her miniature in his bosom, and occasionally pressed it to his lips and his heart, for of whom but her could it possibly be a portrait? How could all this be honourably reconciled with his avowed love to herself and the offer of his hand? It appeared that Miss Horton had changed her name; he had called her Miss Manning; he had desired herself and Lucy

not to mention the tender interview of which

they had become accidental spectators; he had declared his own lips to be sealed by an inviolable vow. Here were change of name, mystery, and concealment, ratified by a solemn oath, and all savouring strongly of criminality, or at least of some grave misconduct, in which her judgment told her that Middleton must be deeply implicated, for she knew him to be naturally as frank and open as the day. Had he not moreover secret enemies who had assailed his life? All these suspicious circumstances, joined to his gloomy views, and the hypochondriacism to which he was subject, made her congratulate herself upon having rejected his suit; but this verdict of her judgment was scarcely confirmed by her heart. Mortification and regret, not perhaps altogether free from a tinge of resentful jealousy, were her predominant feelings; and she accused herself of ingratitude to Heaven, because an unbidden tear had stolen down her cheek.

CHAPTER IV.

"Her divine skill taught me this ;—
Thus from every thing I saw,
I could some instruction draw,
And raise pleasure to the height,
From the meanest object's sight.—
By the murmur of a spring,
Or the least bough's rustelling,
By a daisy, whose leaves spread,
Shut when Titan goes to bed,
Or a shady bank or tree,
She could more infuse in me,
Than all Nature's bounties can

In some other wiser man."

GEORGE WITHER.

THE first interview of Middleton and Chritty, after their return to their respective homes, occurred at the Parsonage House, whither Hargrave and Lucy had invited them. Middleton was embarrassed, from a recollection of what had occurred at Lady Bishopstown's, and his

inability to explain it; but the cheerful and easy self-possession of Chritty, and the cordiality of her reception, quickly reassured him; while the sprightly Lucy, rallying him on his grave looks, exclaimed, "The Turks pray to their prophet against sorrowful faces, which they consider sinful—so do I ; and as a penance for your presuming to enact the Knight of the Rueful Countenance, and in my presence, I order you to escort Chritty to the north seat of the church-yard, that she may see what an improvement we have made in the view, by pulling down the old barn. Hargrave is visiting one of his sick parishioners, and I cannot go myself, having some household duties to discharge. Dear, dear! what a torment is married life! One has always some worrying, pleasant, troublesome, dear, delightful, little occupation to fill up one's time. Heigho! it's quite miserable to be so happy all day long." The playful housewife jingled her bunch of keys, and assumed such a lackadaisical yet beautiful expression of mock distress, that Chritty laughed outright, while a languid smile passed over

the features of Middleton, as he offered his arm to the sister, and declared that he should be most delighted to perform the enjoined penance of showing her the improvement in the churchyard, which he termed throwing open a new picture for public and gratuitous exhibition. For the purpose of enabling it to be the better seen and enjoyed, Hargrave had caused a bench to be fixed, upon which Chritty placed herself, and, after admiring the view, turned to her companion, who had now seated himself beside her, and said smilingly, "Well, Mr. Middleton, do you remember our last colloquy upon this spot, and are you prepared to answer me, why the future should not be as a golden age to the present, seeing that the present may be termed a golden age to the past ?"

"I need not provide myself with an answer, since I fully admit your position; we may go on improving, however, ad infinitum, without any correspondent increase of happiness. If we could measure our enjoyments and advantages with those of our ancestors, instead of our wealthier contemporaries, we should all of