most delightfully interesting; an interest heightened by the beauty and elegance of both. The spectators had turned their looks from one to the other, as either spoke, in wonder or admiration, and all thinking they understood that of which they knew nothing; but now there was to be one actress the less, and one wondering spectatress the more, for Helen stood looking with amaze,on De Roos's sudden, and to her inexplicable change of manner. "Mr. De Roos is ill!" said some one, bles !" "L see how he trem Mr. Mahon was eager in his offers of assistance, but, as if aroused to consciousness by his attentions, although declined, he uncovered his face, and gave to view features exhibiting the expression of overwhelming sorrow. Pity was almost universal, as with downcast eyes, and a low and faltering voice, he addressed our heroine : "I can no longer complain of the justice of my sentence, or doubt that the fervour of my hope clouded my judgment. I see now, with the deepest anguish, that, confused by my fall, and led on by my wishes, I read in your heroism a deeper interest than common humanity. This you might excuse; but what can I say for my madness in believing you capable of coquetry! If the sincerest sorrow for my presumption—if the deepest contrition for my late conduct-can win a pardon for my offence, then may I hope, from the very nobleness of your nature, that you will deign to forget the past? Could my greatest enemy But read my heart, he would deem my punishment sufficient." He waited her answer with the humble, but earnest eagerness of one who felt his doom for good or ill was pending. She looked at him in still greater amaze; she scrutinized lip and eye, cheek and brow, word and tone, but there was nothing to awaken doubt. The insulting look was gone. What was she to think? Could he really have misunderstood her wild exclamation of thankfulness, on finding Elliott had been in no danger? And was that look only meant to speak his triumph, on believing himself beloved? Or was he only feigning still more deeply now? Never were sorrow and contrition expressed with an appearance of better faith; if it were acting, it was the perfection of the art. She was bewildered, but this was no time to deliberate, for anxious eyes were fixed on her, eager to learn how this singular scene was to terminate; nor was there cause for deliberation. To receive his excuses with the same appearance of good faith with which they were offered, must prove to all the fallacy of their former suspicions; besides, she could not but feel delighted at such an unexpected conclusion, and something like gratitude for his present conduct, however she might entertain a misgiving as to the purity of his motives; but even if convinced he was feigning, it would be folly to show such a conviction. I were a churl indeed, Mr. De Roos, not to pardon the past, after such an apology, and so public and open a declaration of your having been mistaken. I am sorry if my words conveyed too harsh a censure, and beg they may be forgotten." All considered this an unlimited forgiveness and promise of forgetfulness; the gentleman appeared in raptures, and said and did all that was right; whilst the company looked at each other, and wondered how they could have been so mistaken. Helen almost immediately took her departure, escorted to her carriage by De Roos and some others. He stood looking after her, revelling in the idea of having so flattered her vanity by this public homage, submission, and confession, as to have little cause to doubt his final success; yet the degradation was not forgotten: and it has been whispered, he said to himself, "I shall hold myself in debt to Mrs. De Roos, and it will be long ere I write 'L'ho pagato.'" "I fear your are worse, dear Helen," said Caroline, as she remarked that her friend leant back in the carriage. "No, dear Caroline, only vexed, excited, and bewildered." "The whole matter is incomprehensible to me, I own; may I ask. "Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no stories,' as the school-boys say. It has been predicted I should marry from curiosity; and if I were certain of disannulling the union at pleasure, I might be tempted to become Mrs. De Roos for one half hour, to learn if he feigned or not." Caroline was in amaze--"Feign! Surely you cannot doubt Mr. De Roos?" "Doubt! Why not? It is the height of wisdom to doubt of every thing. As nurse Smith says--There is nothing certain but death and the taxes;' and it is the very acme of the vulgar and the commonplace, to take every thing for granted." "I believe I am very stupid," said Caroline, in a tone of pique. "I believe you are," replied her friend, playfully, kissing her cheek; "the truth is, if I mistrusted you I should be more open; but I know you are too kind and too prudent to do me harm, should you chance to stumble on a light in the dark." "A tempting reward for goodness! Beware! for I shall henceforth look with fine eyes, and listen with fine ears!" MRS. GOWER TO MISS ST. MAUR. "Vaut rien, "Florence. “What favour can you expect? There have I been worrying and tormenting all the ambassadors, ordinary and extraordinary, envoys, attachés, secretaires, &c. &c. &c. with all the post-masters and post-mistresses to boot, in and about 'la belle Florence,' for a circuit of a hundred miles, with inquiries for a letter from you, which I vowed and protested must have been lost or mislaid. After having put the whole embassy in commotion, and decided that Metternich must be deciphering treason in its contents, the long-looked-for has arrived, bringing, as most long-looked-for's do, disappointment in its train. You have been ill, very ill, and had a relapse, and are too languid to write much, and cannot undergo the fatigue of describing your fête, as you had promised; and then you give me the report of a death that has been, a marriage that is to be, and, with the usual loves and remembrances, sign yourself mine, most affectionately. An epistle without an idea! taken from the polite letter-writer! Such a composition as one sends to a hundredth cousin, whom one designates in one heart as an ultra bore, but to whom one feels one ought to be civil, having received at her hands pigeons or partridges, pickled salmon, or potted grouse. And has Helen St. Maur dared to address such a letter to Harriet Gower? Look at me, for my whole appearance proclaims an enormous storm,' and you have no hope of mercy. Not one word of that epitome of elegance, the Honourable Reginald De Roos, whose character, with more daring than prudence, you determined to develope. Not one word of your protégé the Northern Bear, towards whom, I conclude, you showed so much favour, because, as they say in the Noctes, one cannot make a pet of what every one else likes. Not one word of your perils 'by flood and by fire,' and how this grateful animal proved himself as valuable a I friend as the White Bear of Hans of Iceland, by rescuing you and nurse from the too loving embraces of the fire-fiend and the water-god. Not one word of how you stayed a steed in full career and how that steed had changed riders; and how all the world chose to think one thing, whilst you knew another; and how one noble heart, even in the depth of its sudden agony, gave up the only hope that could brighten the future and disdained to ask what a moment of weakness might have granted, and after pride repented. You see we who are connected with the corps diplomatique, know every thing. Why was I to hear of none of this from you? I who have been your friend from childhood, and from whom you have professed a hundred times to keep no secrets. will tell you two things now; and a more marvellous one later in my letter. No turning to the end for the precious morceau, if you please! First then: There's a silence that speaks,' What a superb blush: it absolutely tinges my paper, even at this distance, with coleur de rose. Secondly I can read your feelings in the dashes to your t's, and the dots to your 7's, and they are at the present moment none of the most enviable. You are fretting and chafing because there are thoughts in your heart which were never there before, and because your will is not quite as omnipotent as of old. Bah! Did the little blushing simpleton imagine she was never to feel the doubts and anxieties d'une certaine passione? Submit quietly to your fate, as wiser folks have done before-Mrs. Gower for instance. Then you fancy a frown. on the brows of those grim gentlemen in armour, who gloom your walls, and look with a sigh on the interminable genealogical tree, unsullied by a stain. In other words, Love and Pride are waging war pas en amis, mais à l'outrance. Ask your old ancestor Sir Herbert, who fought in the Crusades, and figured as a Trouvére, whether he ever heard of a knight saving a lady's life, and not being rewarded with her hand; or the damsel's being punished for her pride and cruelty. Bethink you of the Kienast, He who stems a stream with sand, You may weave the ropes of sand, but they will not bind, for the spell is not upon them. You may resolve, and you may do. The world may see a smiling lip, but the heart may be a waste. You are no changeling, and the magic spell is round you; and why is pride to make your life a wilderness? Love can only be conquered in minds like yours, by duty; and there is no duty in the case. There is none to whom the Heiress of Hurlestone owes deference; and she has wealth and birth, that assure her the highest station in society, wed she with whom she may. She neither seeks rank nor riches; worth and sense none can deny nim; then why allow an unhappy birth to decide against one of the noblest beings that ever breathed? Or does she only wait for fitting excuse and opportunity to repair ill fortune? This would be more like the heroic nobleness of her character. This is rather a long homily, so in reward for your patience, you shall hear my pet piece of intelligence; but first order the sal volatile, and desire the maid to be in attendance. Are you prepared? Well then, Grahame Elliott is here one of the under secretaries, or whatever they are to be called. Yes, here! under my roof, at this very moment, and as you may guess, almost as great a favourite with me, my steady husband, and riotous children, as some people think he is with some one else. How have you borne the shock? Bravely, on my word! But banish that frown. Elliott is no whiner, and I have learnt nothing from him but what I have wrung forth by sudden and searching questions, or read in a blush, a sigh, or a quivering lip. The account of a friend, who watched over him during some days of delirium, and my own almost magical penetration, have placed me au fond de cette affaire. It would serve you right to leave you in wonder how he came here, or how I came to patronise him; but I am too merciful. I should not be much surprised if you knew something about him when he reached town, or had heard that Mr. Hopkins had found him out, and shown him the world in brighter colours than those in which the announcement of his birth had painted it. But pass we that. Now this Mr. Hopkins is my husband's cousin, and a great ally of mine. Hopkins! I hate the name and tried to persuade an uncle to insist on his changing it for a fortune; but, would you believe it? both uncle and nephew were obstinate, and said something very sublime about old family names, like a simple young friend of mine: -so a cousin Hopkins I am doomed to have to the end of the chapter; unless, indeed, some new peers should be wanted. I must intrigue to get ministers into a dilemna. Well! this cousin, who is the next best creature in the world to |