CHAPTER XIV.

Oh, wad some pow'r the giftie gie us,
To see oursels as others see us!
It wad frae monie a blunder free us,

And foolish notion:

What airs in dress an' gait wad lea'e us,
And e'en devotion!

A FEW days after Erskine's departure, Mrs. Harvey entered Jane's room hastily," Our village," she exclaimed, " is the most extraordinary place in the world; wonders cease to be wonderful among us."

"What has happened now?" inquired Jane, "I know not from your face whether to expect good or evil."

"Oh evil, my dear, evil enough to grieve and frighten you. Your wretched cousin David Wilson has got himself into a scrape at last, from which all the arts of all his family cannot extricate him. You know," she continued, "that we saw an account in the New-York paper of last week, of a robbery committed on the mail-stage : the robbers have been detected and taken, and Wilson, who it

seems had assumed a feigned name, is among them."

"And the punishment is death!" said Jane, in a tone of sorrow and alarm.

"Yes; so Mr. Lloyd says, by the laws of the United States, against which he has offended. Mr. Lloyd has been here, to request that you, dear Jane, will go to your aunt, and say to her that he is ready to render her any services in his power. You know he is acquainted in Philadelphia, where David is imprisoned, and he may be of essential use to him."

My poor aunt, and Elvira! what misery is this for them!" said Jane, instinctively transfusing her own feelings into their bosoms.

"For your aunt it may be," replied Mrs. Harvey, "for I think nothing can quite root out the mother; but as for Elvira, I believe she is too much absorbed in her own affairs to think of David's body or soul."

"I will go immediately to my aunt; but what has happened to Elvira ?"

Why Elvira, it seems, during her visit to the west, met with an itinerant french dancing-master, who became violently enamoured of her, and who did not sigh or hope in vain. She probably knew his vocation would be an insuperable obstacle to her seeing him at home; and so between them they concerted a scheme to obviate that difficulty, by introducing him to Mrs. Wilson as a french physician, from Paris, who should volunteer his services to cure her scrofula, which, it is said, has

By

lately become more troublesome than ever. way of a decoy, he was to go upon the usual quack practice of no cure no pay. "

"And this," exclaimed Jane, "is the sick physician we heard was at my aunt's?"

"Yes, poor fellow, and sick enough he has been. He arrived just at twilight, last week on Monday, and having tied his horse, he was tempted, by seeing the door of the chaise-house half open, to go in there to arrange his dress previous to making his appearance before Miss Wilson. He had hardly entered, before old Jacob coming along, saw the door open, and giving the careless boys (whom he supposed in fault) a reversed blessing, he shut and fastened it. It was chilly weather, you know, but there the poor fellow was obliged to stay the live-long night, and till Jacob, sallying forth to do his morning chores, discovered him half-starved and half-frozen. But," said Mrs. Harvey, "you are prepared to go to your aunt, and I am detaining you-you may ask the sequel of Elvira."

"Oh no, let me hear the rest of it; only be short, dear Mrs. Harvey, for if any thing is to be done for that wretched young man, not a moment should be lost."

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My dear, I will be as short as possible, but

my words will not all run out of my mouth at once, as they melted out of Gulliver's horn. Well, this poor french doctor, dancer, or whatever he is, effected an interview with Elvira, before he was seen by the mother; and though no doubt she was

shocked by his unsentimental involuntary vigil, she overlooked it, and succeeded in palming him off on the old lady as a foreign physician, who had performed sundry marvellous cures in his western progress. Mrs. Wilson submitted her disease to his prescription. In the meanwhile, he, poor wretch, as if a judgment had come upon him for his sins, has been really and seriously sick, in consequence of the exposure to the dampness of a September night, in his nankins; and Elvira has been watching and nursing him according to the best and most approved precedents to be found in ballads and romances."

"Is it possible," asked Jane, "that aunt Wilson should be imposed on for so long a time? Elvira is ingenious, and ready, but she is not a match for her quick-sighted mother."

"No, so it has proved in this case. The doctor became better, and the patient worse; his prescriptions have had a dreadful effect upon the scrofula; and as the pain increased, your aunt became irritable and suspicious. Last evening, she overheard a conversation between the hopeful lovers, which revealed the whole truth to her." "And what has she done?"

"What could she do, my dear, but turn the good for nothing fellow out of doors, and exhaust her wrath upon Elvira. The dreadful news she received from David late last evening, must have driven even this provoking affair out of her troubled mind. But," said Mrs. Harvey, rising and going to the window, "who is that coming through

our gate? Elvira, as I live !-what can she be after here?"

"Aunt has probably sent for me," replied Jane; and she hastened to open the door for her cousin, who entered evidently in a flutter. "I was just going to your mother's," said Jane.

"Stay a moment," said Elvira; "I must speak with you. Come into your room," and she hastened forward to Jane's apartment. She paused a moment on seeing Mrs. Harvey, and then begged she would allow her to speak with her cousin alone.

Mrs. Harvey left the apartment, and Elvira turned to Jane, and was beginning with great eagerness to say something, but she paused—unpinned her shawl, took it off, and then put it on again and then asked Jane, if she had heard from Erskine; and, without waiting a reply, which did not seem to be very ready, she continued, "How glad I was he fought that duel; it was so spirited. I wish my lover would fight a duel. It would have been delightful if he had only been wounded."

Jane stared at her cousin, as if she had been smitten with distraction. "Elvira," she said, with more displeasure than was often extorted from her, "you are an incurable trifler! How is it possible, that at this time you can waste a thought upon Erskine or his duel ?""

"Oh! my spirits run away with me, dear Jane; but I do feel very miserable," she replied, affecting to wipe away the tears from her dry eyes. Poor David!-I am wretched about him. He has