blinds of both your bed-rooms be closed carefully-too much light would be most dangerous. Your great aunt, Lady Jemima, was a very tall woman-what makes me talk such nonsense-only I was thinking that if ever it came into the fashion for men to wear gowns and embroidered petticoats, what a treasure there is contained in the black oak chest at the end of the west gallery for the future young men of the family. You had better now go and watch about your friend. But no secrets-you understand me. Now God bless you; and give us a happy issue to this dreadful illness."

"God in his turn, bless you a thousandfold," said Rebecca, flinging herself into his arms. "What would have

become of our family without you?"

Mr. Underdown hastily passed his hands over his eyes, and abruptly left the room.

CHAPTER XVII.

At every trifle scorn to take offence;
That always shows great pride, or little sense,
Good nature and good sense must ever join,
To err is human-to forgive, divine.

LEFT, for the greater part of the day, entirely to themselves, our young ladies had only to attend to the comforts and the preservation of Augustus, who, dressed up in antiquated female attire, was a singular mixture of the handsome and the ridiculous. Miss Belmont and Rebecca passed as much of their time with him as possible; and the former lady had now entirely recanted her opinion concerning the homeliness of his appearance. She thought him, though a little pale and thin, the beau ideal of youthful beauty; but she spoke truly, when she told Rebecca that their minds were too similarly constituted ever to permit them to do aught but to admire and wrestle with each other for a spiritual ascendency.

Rebecca was all love and abandonment for Augustus. Her heart had defied him; he was beyond and above all men. For three whole days, whilst he was undergoing this blissful imprisonment, and though Rosa was burning with curiosity, she would not suffer him to relate his adventures; because, she said, he should not degrade himself, by thus indirectly putting himself upon his justification; and perhaps, she felt herself unequal to bear all that she knew that he must have suffered.

In the mean time the ladies acquainted him with every thing that had occurred. Much did he deplore the dismal.

state of his mother's mind. At first they attempted to address him by his title; but it failed; and both ladies called him, usually, by abbreviatives, Gus being the term patronized by Rebecca, and Gusty that by Miss Bel

mont.

Though thus lapped in indolent luxury, Augustus longed for the open air, activity, and to embrace his mother. He well knew that he could not for many more days remain where he was. Some steps must be taken to break the strange nets that the wicked had cast about him. But he still dreaded to go to the prison as a common felon, and stand at the bar and be arraigned for crimes so very foreign to his nature; and with the chances so terrifically, as they now appeared to be, against him.

At length the irksomeness of his confinement bore heavily upon all of them, with the exception of Rebecca. She wished for no change. He was under her protection-she could listen to his voice almost the whole of the live-long day; and, clasped hand in hand with him, and drinking a passionate life from his eyes, for what more had she to wish?

But Miss Belmont was heartily sick, instead of feignedly, so sick of playing the sick lady. The four daily entrances of the four baskets of medicine were revolting to her; and, though she a little relieved her spleen by mixing them all up together in a water-jug, with the wicked. intention of sending them flavoured strongly with brandy, in half gallon bottles, as a present of foreign wine to the apothecary, she felt inclined, every time the abomination made its appearance, to fling it out of the window. She dared neither sing nor play; and the amusement of seeing others make love, if they do it badly, is annoying-if well, much worse. So she drew a little, and scolded a little, and yawned a great deal; but, as yet, very heroically, she had refrained from openly complaining.

"My good folks," said she, on the fourth day, "you have entirely cured me of my romance. I grow nauseated at the least term of endearment. If any one were, just now, to call me my beloved,' I should slap his face; and my angel' would be as good as a box of the ears to him. Come, come, Gusty, let us have a little common sense. If you go on in this pulling way, you will never be fit to wear any thing else than that ridiculous old woman's dress, that really does become you."

"Shall I swear a little?" said his lordship.

"Ah, do; so as it is not by Becky's bright eyes, or any thing of that sort. For the sake of variety, swear us a good round sailor's oath, provided that there be nothing naughty in it."

"By the jeer-blocks, dead-eyes, and catarpin shrouds- 95

"O stop, that is too horrible. Only give us your adventures, and tell us why they want to hang you." "For shame, Miss Belmont."

"Is that your gratitude, Becky, for my being within death's door, for the best half of an eternity, just to oblige you? Playing at being ill is but ill play, after all, and deserves good words. The adventures, my lord, or I shall walk down stairs; which may be deemed my method of taking up my bed and walking,"

"You shall have them, if you'll promise not to belord ine any more."

"No, Augustus," said Rebecca; "no adventures, if you please: who ever doubted but that you have always preserved a high character?"

"I don't," said the perverse Rosa; "but let us hear how. Was it. very difficult?"

"You slanderous

"Well, if we do but preserve ours, after all this-heh, Rebecca; but come, the adventures."

Miss Bacuissart clung the more closely to Augustus, who, gathering up a few of the ample folds of his rich damask gown, in the manner of a Roman mantle, and surveying the embroidered petticoat, thus disclosed for a moment, as if in thought, commenced his tale.

CHAPTER XVIII.

Thus Bethel spoke, who always speaks his thought,
And always thinks the very thing he ought.

POPE.

THE Commencement spoken of in the last chapter we shall not inflict upon the reader. We shall take up the story at the point when, being on board the Terrific, like a silly fellow that he was, he was upon the point of taking to the salt water.

"I would wish," said he, "to speak respectfully of my uncle; but, Becky dear, he showed himself, at that time, a brute and a tyrant. I appealed to him, in your name, not to flog me-the appeal was vain. I call God to witness, that I did not contemplate suicide-only escape from ignominy. I even watched for my opportunity. I could swim but little; but when I saw a hen-coop floating past, that had been thrown overboard in preparing for action, from one of the other ships, I determined to confide myself to that rather than trust any more to the tender mercies of the tyrant. I sprang out well through the cabin-windows, and luckily gained my precarious vessel. The old Terrific lagged to leeward dreadfully; and, when the boats were lowered, and were pulling about in her wake, I was half a mile to windward.

"Ó Rebecca, I was dreadfully cold, and very, very repentant. I thought upon you then-I did indeed; and was sorry that I wrote that incautious letter to my mother. I was tossed about dreadfully, and, first of all, grew very sick; I saw our fleet make sail and leave me;