On the other hand, the frankness of my new friends had imparted such powers of discernment to my eyes, that I saw at once not only the duplicity of Mariana, but the meanness of the husband, who for his worldly advancement's sake, suffered his honour to be thus compromised; nor could I help contrasting the sneakiness of Brettingham, a man commanding universal respect as belonging to the best clubs and giving the best dinners, with all I had heard from Annie and Sophronia of the tenaciousness of West Indian husbands! Mrs. Greysdale, indeed, seemed proud of the jealous temper of her husband, as of a domestic virtue; and had more than once assured me she was satisfied her husband would kill her on the spot, had he grounds for suspecting the prudence of her conduct.

"And so would I Sophronia, should I ever enjoy the happiness of being her husband," muttered I, in the depths of my heart; for there at least I no longer disguised from myself the earnestness of my passion.

After all, of the various moods and tenses of human happiness, give me the indicative of amo! The attainment of our ambitions is a troubled joy. As in skaiting, a sprawl on the ice or a plunge into the chilly waters below, may at any moment reverse our position. The pleasures of eating bring the pain of indigestion, of drinking, head-ache. It is only the delirium tremens of love which surrounds us with an atmosphere of delight, poetizing the prose of life; and, by rendering every breath we draw a sigh of tenderness, investing the meanest of our actions with the fairy tints of

romance.

Never had I been fully conscious of this before! Boys are ashamed of owning themselves slaves to the tender passion, even to themselves. In Emily's time, I should have blushed to plead guilty to such an accusation; in Helena's, I treated the matter as a jest. As one advances in life, one grows more sincere with oneself. I did not deceive myself now; I saw clearly that the hour of the day spent at Silwood Cot

tage was fairly worth the remainder of the

twenty-four!

But how was all this to end? Though fluttering in the sunshine of prosperity, I had not a guinea I could call my own; nothing to meet the horrible parchment rapacities of a prudent family,-nothing wherewithal to endow a family of my own! Mr. Vavasour was shortly expected home with his son-in-law; and how would he relish the idea of a beggarly Honourable with an income mainly dependent on the caprices of royalty, as the husband of his charming daughter?

I swear, and though Jove may laugh at lover's perjuries, I have no doubt he looks very grave at perjuries uttered between author and reader,-I SWEAR that such was my sole motive for refraining from a positive declaration of my sentiments to Sophronia Vavasour. I was determined that her father or Greysdale should sanction my pretensions to her hand, ere I attempted to hamper her by an engagement;

and however great the difficulty of controlling my inclinations, used to go and sit by her worktable, morning after morning, or saunter with her up and down the little terrace of the garden, through fog, or frost, or snow, the happiest of mankind; yet never approach within millions of miles the one short question which was to render such happiness permanent. So even was the tenor of our days, that the besotted Cecil Danby had not leisure to perceive

How pleasantly and fast the days succeeded,
With one who felt and thought so much as he did!

He felt satisfied, however, that Sophronia understood his motives and respected them. Clever as she was, all the workings of my mind must be apparent to her, as those of bees in a glass hive. Nay, I sometimes detected on the part of Mrs. Greysdale certain glances of intelligence, when I invited Miss Vavasour to walk or ride, purporting to say,-" Go with him, Soph,-go with him. If not engaged, it is only because Mr. Danby has too much deli

cacy to entangle you without the sanction of your father."

One day, as I was bidding them farewell, I thought I saw a look of anxiety in Sophronia's countenance. I could almost have sworn that tears were gathering in her eyes as I quitted the room.

"If, after all," mused I, as I proceeded briskly along the road towards Black Ness Gate, "she should not feel certain of my affections? If she should think me trifling with her, and resent the reserve of my conduct?"

I had half a mind to ride back and satisfy myself about those moistened eyes. But I thought better of it, as one says when one thinks worldly-wise. The weather was unpropitious. Besides, I was afraid the servants might smile or look wise on seeing me return. I was afraid Mrs. Greysdale would elevate her eye-brows, and, perhaps, utter some expressive interjection. I was afraid, in short, of being