I will tell my tale, therefore, in the simple language of an oracle far more oracular; premising that neither Greysdale nor his fatherin-law deigned to notice the communications I had addressed to them.

The portentous letter sealed with black was from Sophronia, and couched in the following

terms.

"Greenville Plantation, Nov. 24, 1829,

"When I tell you that a week only has elapsed since I laid the head of my sister in the grave, you will understand the cause of my delay in replying to your communication. You will also, I trust, comprehend the impossibility of a single expression of gratitude on my part, for the tardy justice you have done me.

"In accusing you as the cause of my sister's untimely end, I do not pretend that we are altogether blameless.-When accident brought us acquainted, thirteen months ago, we ought to have known, we ought to have felt, that no

good could arise from the cultivation of an intimacy, whose foundations were of sand.Hard is it that my poor sister Aunie should pay the penalty of my infatuation! Yet when I look to the prospects of my future days, I feel that, in the end, I, who was most to blame, shall have most to suffer!-For the principles in which I was reared had inspired me with profound contempt for the heartlessness of your class. I had been warned of their want of principle their want of humanity. Yet with all my boasted wisdom, it needed only for one so specious as yourself to dazzle me by refinement of manners and graces of person, to make me forget my father's lessons-to make me With my renounce my previous disdain! own hands did I blindfold my better judg ment; --and the result is such utter bankruptcy of the heart, as renders it difficult for me to address you even these hurried but necessary

lines

"Whether your proposals be dictated by a

sense of mercy towards my sister, or regard for myself, it is now useless to inquire.—In marrying you, I should give my hand to her murderer. That you could leave me, seeing, as I am persuaded you did, the sincere affection which you had spared no pains to call into existence, without one word expressive of your intentions, without one line from Paris to alleviate the affliction produced by your inexplicable absence, is a sufficient evidence of the self-possessed hardness of your nature, to convince me that, even if the dying bed of my sister did not oppose an insuperable obstacle to our union, I could not be happy as your wife.

"Oh! could you only know how much she had to suffer!-Pure as the angels of Heaven, -Annie was exposed to all the obloquy awaiting the most infamous of her sex!-This, at least, was your doing.-You knew the habits of England, the forms and usages of its society. You saw our ignorance of the evil

interpretation to which we must be subjected by your visits. Yet you came and came again -with what intentions your own conscience can best apprize you; then, left us without a word,-flung us aside like a worn out garment; and when the brilliant Cecil Danby was heard of again, it was at the feet of another woman,-another, and the wedded wife of

another!

"At that moment, Sir, my sister had been all but sacrificed by the impetuosity of a man who loved her as his life, yet less than his honour.

"Pity him, and pity me!- Pity my poor heart-broken father, who is now sitting beside me, cursing the day in which he confided two daughters so young and inexperienced to the tender mercies of English society.

"Farewell.--Could I hereafter permit myself to recur to days that have proved so fertile a source of misery to me and mine, I might, perhaps, dwell with regret upon the sudden blighting of illusions, which for a moment pro

mised to make this barren earth a world of happiness. But for the remainder of my life, and the sake of those to whose consolation I must devote myself, I banish the past for ever from my mind.-Imitate my example.-It will need no great effort for one so worldly as yourself to forget that you were ever acquainted with two fashionless, obscure, and nameless women, one of whom is already your victim, -while the other prays, in the utmost sincerity of heart, for release from a life you have rendered wretched.Again I say, farewell!

"S. V."

I drew a very long breath after the perusal of this sad letter,-a breath so long as nearer to resemble a heavy sigh than altogether became the coxcombry of Cecil Danby

Still, I was not weak enough to fancy myself so much to blame as Miss Vavasour harshly announced me.-No! I was not responsible for the infirmities of Mr. Greysdale's temper