"The horses, you mean."

"Come now, I want to know why you're not going? You promised me the first gallop; I'm not disposed to release you; and Mr. Thistle has you down for who knows how many redowa, polka, and what not. There's a hall decorated like a garden, an orchestra that lends wings to your feet, and here am I in a new suit, ready to sing Heigh-ho! to the best dancing-hall in the city,' and there we are."

"I was thinking," said he, "that I knew a charm against discontent."

"Shall I cross your palm ?"
"You haven't any silver."
"Won't the charm work then?"
"Try it."

"A charm against discontent? I don't know any but change of fortune."

"Believe in whatever place you are that is the one you were intended to fill, for which you are best fitted. That is all."

"So you would not seek good fortune ?" "What is the need? If it belongs to you it will find you out, never fear. If it is not yours

"That is just what I can't see."

"Then know that I have nothing to wear." "Deplorable! Where's the embroidered mus

lin ?"

"Aunt Sophia says the darn will show." "Aunt Sophia isn't equal to the exigencies of life; bring it on, we will look as fine as a fiddle before midnight."

So I brought it down; I didn't need much urging; and he directed me how to trim it with flowers and leaves off my own plants-thanks to Mrs. Cordis, who gave them to me before she went to sea with the Captain. Alick said he saw a muslin dress, at the Prince of Wales' ball in Montreal, trimmed in the same mannera narrow festooning of myrtle-leaves running around the skirt, about quarter of a yard from the bottom, like a vine, and dropping at intervals a spray of crimson fuschias; so there we sat, Alick planning like a milliner and I executing like a machine, and the laughter and frolic we had over it, fancying him making his fortune in this line, and I charging him with being eager for my presence at the ball, merely as a dancing advertisement. But-by-and-by it was all finished, and I had it on in a jiffy, and came down to meet Alick, and no one would ever have suspected that there were several dreadful darns under those beautiful clusters of fuschia-bells never in the world; it was perfectly lovely, and off we went to the ball like Cinderella. All the girls were ecstatic over my attire, and Aunt Sophia's amazement and efforts to conceal it were too ludicrous; but directly after supper she gathered up her wits, called her carriage, and carried Julia off without saying a word to me! Alick took me home later, in fear and trembling, but every one was in bed, and the house dark as a pocket, except for a blue glimmer of gas in the back drawing-room.

"You are pale as any ghost," said Alick, turning up the gas.

"You don't know what it is to live under the thumb of an ogre." He turned his shining eyes upon me; I thought he was going to say something, but he did not speak.

"Then if I'm sold into slavery I must not run away because some one will grant me my freedom in course of time."

"Are you in danger of that? You're not to attempt some rash measure to improve your condition, and stick fast in the swamps with starvation before you and the hound behind, but wait for the proclamation. To put it à la Professor Blot, you're not to jump out of the frying-pan into the fire."

Then I knew he was thinking of Mr. Thistle. "Oh well, if I'm a beggar I'm not going to work, because presently the Rothschilds will send a check."

“I didn't say so: whatsoever your hands find to do, do it with all your might, and blossom into success as the rose blossoms by natural impulsion, instead of grappling fortune by the throat and crying, 'Stand and deliver!' like a highwayman.”

After which homily we parted. But Aunt Sophia never meant to let me off so cannily, and this morning she came down upon me like "the wolf on the fold," the wehr-wolf, so that my feelings are positively black and blue. I was received with the assurance that I made a precious fool of myself last night, and that every one present was struck dumb with my figurante attire; it struck me that it might be convenient to keep it for a home dress if it would effect such happy results. I said nothing till she came to the ogre part, for plainly some one had listened; then I merely inquired, "Eaves-droppers?" Upon which Aunt Sophia swept across the room like a simoon, seized me by the shoulders, and gave me such a shaking that my head rings this minute; then she dismissed me to my room, not to appear until I had acquired a more Christian spirit, and Julia giggled. Oh, if I might never go down to break her bitter bread again! If I were only a girl of genius and ideas, knew what to do for a living, and how to do it; but I am only a precious fool, as Aunt Sophia is so kind as to inform me every week of my life, who doesn't know her own mind ten minutes at a time, for no sooner do I resolve to accept Mr.

"A coach for to ride in,

A house for to bide in,

And flunkies to tend me wherever I go;" or to endure this tempest-in-a-tea-pot life untilMarch 2.-Mr. Thistle came yesterday to take us to a matinée, but I escaped, thanks to a fine headache; only the funniest thing happened; shortly after they were gone Alick rang-I can always tell his ring-and before I had reached the drawing-room my headache had disappeared. Of course I accused him of being an enchanter. "I wish I was," said he.

"What would you do first?"

I am

afraid it was a great extravagance of Alick's, but he said that he was as rich as Croesus just then. Some nabob must have bought his last picture.

When we reached home they were all there, Julia singing "Robin Adair,” and Mr. Thistle looking melancholy.

"Indeed," said Aunt Sophia, "we didn't know but you were kidnapped."

"My head ceased aching, and I thought the air would do me good," I replied.

"Humbug," said the sententious Julia; and as for Mr. Thistle, he didn't speak to me the whole evening, and I never saw him appear to

"Go on."

"And a lover not quite a beggar."

"Go on, Sir."

"And a heart to give him."

"Go on, Mr. Trehurne."

"The good genius never grants but three wishes at a summons; now I will vanish, only put on your bonnet, and we will go together into genii-land."

And as the pain in my head had quite gone, I thought there was no harm in going too. So we went off to his studio, where he showed me some rare engravings and three oil paintings of great value, one of them a veritable Old Master -a smiling face which seemed to say, "I could weep, but I have no tears.

"You will look like that when your heart is broken," said Alick.

March 10.-I heard Aunt Sophia tell the servants this morning that whenever Mr. Trehurne called the ladies were not at home. It is very true. I am not at home; I am in Bedlam!

March 12.-Yesterday Alick called twice; no one was at home. But they got their "come-upance," as the cook says to the chimney when it smokes. This morning Julia and I went shopping, and not two squares off we encountered Alick. "Well met," said he; "I didn't know but you had taken French leave. I stopped twice at Mrs. Marx's yesterday, and you were all in the vocative." "Yesterday," said I, appearing to consider "yesterday, why I never left the house all day; neither did Julia."

she.

"I don't ever mean to have my heart broken," said I.

"But whose are they?" I asked, thinking, certainly, that they were there on exhibition.

"They are mine," he returned; "a legacy from my great-uncle Deyfer, who died last January."

"Oh, Alick, how very kind of him! But wasn't he wealthy?"

and I brought it up for you. After all you might not have cared for it; it came from over the sea, and belonged to a century dead and buried."

"Oh, thank you, indeed I should!" said Julia, who dotes on antiquities, if they're fashionable.

"Don't thank me, please. Not being able to find you, I carried it into a store in order to replace the tassels and ribbons by which it hung

"He left me what he thought would please me;" and what a tender light shone from his eyes as he told me of this uncle, who had rescued him from uncongenial pursuits, given him masters, and sent him abroad, and had now be queathed him these gems of art!

"Are they not much better than fine houses and horses-than bank-stock or bullion?"

I was forced to confess that they suited him better. But we hung over them so long, finding something to praise and enjoy in every stroke; some effect hitherto unheeded; some touch which pointed the whole, that before we were aware it was already past dinner-time, though I had intended to be at home before Aunt Sophia: so we dined together at Montana's VOL. XXXIII.-No. 198.-3 F

We told Aunt Sophia on our return, and she looked daggers.

March 15.-Alick called. We were all at home, thanks to the hand-screen. Mr. Thistle sent a box of French bon-bons; to sweeten my regard, Julia thinks.

March 30.-Aunt Sophia says these are my halcyon days. Alas! Alick is out of town.

April 9.-Dismal and showery. I should think the robin's nest in that rowan-tree opposite my window must be filled with water; whenever the weather brightens a little the mate commences to gush out with a trill sounding for all the world like:

"Rain, rain, go away;

Come again another day."

all that remains for me is to bid this place adieu, where I have suffered and enjoyed so much. Its familiar aspect would pierce me to the heart daily, make my wounds bleed every hour; besides, it would be dangerous for Alick. I must remove myself far from him that he may go on to fortune and fame unhampered and unharmed; and years hence, when he has quite forgotten me, I may perhaps clear myself in his eyes. And to what might not this hateful dependence sting me? Oh, let me go now while I have strength!

My preparations are soon made. I shall take only the letters he has written me, my diary, and a few clothes in a valise. I do not wish to be cumbered. I have some money in my purse that must last till I earn more. If any thing could interest me I should be curious about this new life that I go to lead; but instead, I feel like a suicide.

Ah, when we might have been so happy!

Was self-will

was not myself but another! punished? Was it that, choosing the wrong clew in the tangled skein, fresh troubles ensued?

The train paused a moment and then went thundering on with me-on and on till it seemed as if steam were a myth, and only the eager impulses of my own heart urged me forward on this impetuous flight.

Across what miles of desolate, perfumed fields we sped, like a bitter thought! Through what rare woodland solitudes, along the brink of what profound chasms, above what angry currents, the echoes of our signals threading off into infinite space, the notes of a grand, descending scale capable of perfect melody! All my thoughts were tumult, all my plans vapor. I tried to think of Alick, as if I had never known him too well-as one I might have loved had fortune pleased. I tried to sketch out some chart of my future existence; but every thing

"Never any more, while I live, Can I hope to see his face,

As before."

I will close my window, it might make me to waver; we have sung it together so much.

In half an hour the night-train will take me up. The clocks are striking eleven. I have opened my door and listened-the house is silent as a tomb but closer than a furnace. I did not know the night was half so sultry. As for me, I am cold and trembling.

Good-by, Alick. If I loved you less I could not say it. Good-by, alas!

April 20, 1866.-When I turn back to the date last recorded here, I seem to have grown older by centuries instead of months; Fate shifted the scenes so unexpectedly, showed me the sharp edges of the abyss, made so to grate upon my ears the gates of despair, that, whenever one season recurs to me, one hour that comprehended eternity, I lose sanity, I experience an anguish too terrible to remember.

On the disastrous night, when, heart-sick and trembling with an uncertain dread, I crept out under the free heavens alone, the night-train was just signaling approach, while its trail of gray smoke floated slowly across the sky like shapes of genii, bringing dreams to slumbering mortals. I recollect turning back to gazo once more at the home I had left before passing out of sight. There it stood, white and massive, nothing stirring about it but the scented summer wind, and perhaps a fire-fly flashing across a pane; or stay, was it indeed a dim light visible in one of the lower rooms? I had awakened some one; the rustle of my skirts had betrayed me. I was already missed--they were making haste to pursue? Alas! how all things hinge on egotism when grief points it. Oh, had I delayed a little, forgotten my rôle an instant, been shaken by irresolution and turned back; but I was bent upon sacrifice, and so the victim

rows of the country-side. I could catch at no salient point; I, and every thing about me, seem. ed floating, formless-more of cloud than of earth; more of dream than reality.

It grew toward a damp, cloudy morning. The passengers we took up had not fairly given in to the fact of daybreak, but wore expressions of settled despondency, as if they had caught the infection from myself. I remember some one saying, "There must have been a great fire somewhere last night by the red glare in the north."

"Aurora, my dear fellow! don't engage in incendiarism, pray," was the ready reply; and, except for these two remarks, none of the various comments which travelers lavish attached themselves to my memory, and before I reached the metropolis I could not have told whether I had dreamed or heard even these. What was it to me? I had nothing to lose by fire or flood. I had already lost. The wrecked need fear no thief.

What a roar rung out from the city, deepening as we swung into the dark and crowded dépôt! What a mist of faces every where! How cold it was-how dreary—and yet but yesterday it had been summer-time!

Oh, remorseless gulf between yesterday and to-day! can no love overleap you?

I expected to obtain copying from a lawyer, who I knew had transacted business for my father, and I directed my steps toward his office; but he was engaged, would see me later, so I returned to my lodgings to rest a little. I must have slept some hours, for when I next found my way into the thoroughfares the news-boys were crying the evening papers. Other noises confused me. I could only catch a broken sentence here and there: "Great fire in "Heroic conduct of a young -!" "Lady buried in the ruins!" How dreadful! I thought, and stopped to listen. Just then a boy passed at my elbow: "Have a paper, Miss? Great fire! Rowan Square destroyed !"

Rowan Square! I could scarcely wait to wrench it from his hand before my eyes caught at words that thrilled the blood to my finger-tips, and sent it soaring in blinding flashes to my brain. To the latest day I live I think I shall ever remember that paragraph.

"The fire in Rowan Square broke out between twelve and one o'clock, in the house occupied by Mrs. Marx and family, all of whom escaped, with the exception of a niece who slept in the wing, and is supposed to have perished. Mr. Trehurne, in attempting to rescue this unfortunate young lady from the burning building, fell with a portion of it and received such injuries that his life is despaired of.”

Mr. Trehurne-that was Alick.

I read no further; all the world grew black as night, and turned on one relentless pivot; Alick was dying! Then it could no longer harm him if I returned to him. Return! Not a moment's delay. Oh, why had I ever left him! Had I feared poverty and the loss of ease for him! Oh, fool and blind, when poverty is the pedestal of genius, and idleness the disease of great souls!

I remember the miles and miles of solitary country across which we seemed to creep, whose sweet breath fevered me-whose wide loneliness afflicted me like a grave, long green and sunken; I remember passengers who talked among themselves of the late frightful fire at —, and passed on to the politics of the day, the rise in gold, the thermometer, and other matters. It meant little to them, only an incident of the hour, an item already stale, while to me it meant, perhaps, an empty life. I remember the startled gaze and shrinking of people in the streets, as if a ghost had passed by. I remember all these things vaguely, as if I had been told them, or suffered them in some abnormal state, for I understood nothing clearly till I saw Him.

My God! was that scarred and crippled form Alick's? That pained and writhing frame? That seared brow? That wandering brain? And this for me!

When I think of it tears drown my sight and choke my speech-the tears that would not flow when doubt darkened my horizon. When I think of it I become dearer to myself. I am the free purchase of a devoted heart, of sufferings unutterable, of beauty defaced, of strength defied-perhaps of a career sacrificed.

Ah, if I had been worth the price! Through what leaden days I struggled with terror! through what inexorable nights! What black despairs encompassed me, like a legion of threatening phantoms! what bitter regrets swept me like the whirlwind! for in his delirium he was always seeking me, always making the perilous ascent; groping for me with his poor, faithful hands, calling me in such wild, appealing tones.

The doctors feared the shock of my presence for him, but I-I knew better. When he called, I answered; that soothed him, and he fell asleep

with his swathed hand grasping my own, and woke refreshed. He had found me. The assurance that I was not lost beneath that blackened pile reached, somehow, his enfeebled perceptions, struck out a spark of sweet intelligence, till slowly his brain swung back into the old ruts of reason, but not in a day nor a week. Oh, that glad morning when he awoke and, smiling, said:

"I have been oppressed with such a hateful nightmare, love!" And I hid my face in the pillow and could not reply, and the doctors came and declared I had saved him, and the world suddenly grew light and jocund.

It was worth while to have endured something in order to arrive at such a break of daya morning flushed with the radiance of hope. Hope! They who pass a lifetime in an atmos phere of repose, tortured by no pursuing fears, afflicted by no treacherous uncertainties, do not know the word. It is a delightful prism, captivating by a thousand beautiful illusions, but which the ignorant mistake for a bit of broken glass; and, indeed, if these sojourners in a perpetual calm held Aladdin's Lamp itself, they would need to think twice before rubbing it. Hope is the solace of aching souls, the palace of the mendicant, the life-boat of the shipwrecked, the asylum of the wretched.

Alick's wounds healed slowly; for weeks he was feebler than a child, the merest echo of himself; he who had been so strong, whose matchless health spoke in each trifling movement, in the flashing eye, the glowing cheek, the buoyant tread, the imperious tone-but he will never walk again unaided. Here he lies slumbering beside me-a face paler than nun's behind a grate; his brows bound with a burning band--a coronet time will hardly efface; his hand clutching the crutch he never dreamed of needing. To-day he was wheeled into the garden, because spring is in earnest, and though he said nothing, I knew that he longed to look at the world outside. There we watched the robins build, singing at their work, while the grass seemed to grow under our feet.

May 1.-We are still at Mrs. Cordis's. Dear soul, she had Alick brought here at the beginning, because she loved us; and here she says I shall stay till I go to Mrs. Trehurne's.

Mrs. Trehurne. How strangely it looks! I told Alick that I "didn't believe there was no such person," and he said she would arrive the first day in June, and "would she be contented with such a broken reed as himself?" and, "Oh, Alick," I answered him, "she will be the happiest woman in all the land, only-" "Only what?"

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