clssped to the bosom of Theodore, nor released until the interchange of the first pledge of love had been forced from her bashful lips!-She did not appear that night in the drawing-room again. Theodore's addresses were sanctioned by the parents of Rosalie. The wedding-day was fixed; it wanted but a fortnight to it, when a malignant fever made its appearance in the town; Rosalie's parents were the first victims. She was left an orphan at eighteen, and her uncle, by the mother's side, who had been nominated her guardian in a will, made several years, having followed his brother-in-law and sister's remains to the grave, took up his residence at B Rosalie's sole consolation now was such as she received from the society of Theodore; but Theodore soon wanted consolation himself. His father was attacked by the fever and died, leaving his affairs, to the astonishment of every one, in a state of the most inextricable embarrassment; for he had been looked upon as one of the wealthiest inhabitants of B- This was a double blow to Theodore, but he was not aware of the weight of it till, after the interment of his father, he repaired, for the first time, to resume his visits to his Rosalie. He was stepping up without ceremony to the drawingroom, when the servant begged his pardon for stopping him, telling him at the same time, that he had received instructions from his master to shew Theodore into the parlour when he should call. "Was Miss Wilford there ?" "No." Theodore was shewn into the parlour. Of all savage brutes, the human brute is the most pernicious and revolting, because he unites to the evil properties of the inferior animal the mental faculties of the superior one; and then he is at large. A vicious-tempered dog you can muzzle and render innocuous; but there is no preventing the human dog that bites from fleshing his tooth; he is sure to have it in somebody. And then the infliction is so immeasurably more severe !-the quick of the mind is so much more sensitive than that of the body! Besides, the savage that runs upon four legs so inferior in performance to him that walks upon two! 'Tis he that knows how to gnaw! I have often thought it a pity and a sin that the man who plays the dog should be protected from dying the death of one. He should hang, and the other go free. 66 Well, young gentleman!" was the salutation which Theodore received when he entered the parlour; and pray what brings you here?" Theodore was struck dumb; and no wonder. "Your father, I understand, has died a beggar! Do you think to marry my niece?" If Theodore respired with difficulty before, his breath was utterly taken away at this. was a young man of spirit, but who can keep up his heart, when his ship, all at once going down. He The human dog went on. 66 Young gentleman, I shall be plain with you, for I am a straightforward man; young women should mate with their matches-you are no match for my niece; so a good morning to you!" How more in place to have wished him a good halter! Saying this, the straightforward savage walked out of the room, leaving the door wide open that Theodore might have room for egress; and steadily walked up stairs. It was several minutes before he could recover his self-recollection. When he did so, he rang the bell. "Tell your master I wish to speak to him, said Theodore to the servant who answered it. The servant went up stairs after his master, and returned. "I am sorry, sir," said he, "to be the bearer of such an errand; but my master desires you instantly to quit the house; and has commanded me to tell you he has given me orders not to admit you again.' "I must see Miss Wilford!" exclaimed Theodore. "You cannot sir!" respectfully remarked the servant; "for she is locked in her own room; but you can send a message to her," added he in a whisper, and I will be the bearer of it. There is not a servant in the house, Mr. Theodore, but is sorry for you to the soul." This was so much in season, and was so evidently spoken from the heart, that Theodore could not help catching the honest fellow by the hand. Here the drawing-room bell was rung violently. "I must go, sir." said the servant; "what message to my mistress?""" "Tell her to give me a meeting, and to apprize me of the time and place," said Theodore; and the next moment the hall door was shut upon him. One may easily imagine the state of the young fellow's mind. To be driven with insult and barbarity from the house in which he had been received a thousand times with courtesy and kindness-which he looked upon as his own! Then, what was to be done? Rosalie's uncle, after all, had told him nothing but the truth. His father had died a beggar! Dear as Rosalie was to Theodore, his own pride recoiled at the idea of offering her a hand which was not the master of a shilling! Yet was not Theodore portionless. His education was finished; that term he had completed his collegiate studies. If his father had not left him a fortune, he had provided him with the means of making one himself: at all events, of commanding a competency. He had the credit of being a young man of decided genius too. "I will not offer Rosalie a beggar's hand!" exclaimed Theodore ; "I shall ask her to remain true to me for a year; and I'll go up to London, and maintain myself by my pen. It may acquire me fame as well as fortune; and then I may marry Rosalie !" This was a great deal of work to be done in a year; but if Theodore was not a man of genius, he possessed a mind of that sanguine temperament, which is usually an accompaniment of the richer gift. Before the hour of dinner all his plans were laid, and he was ready to start for London. He waited now for nothing but a message from Rosal e, and as soon as the sweet girl could send it, it came to him. It appointed him to meet her in the green lane after sunset; the sun had scarcely set when he was there, and there, too, was Rosalie. He found that she was Rosalie still. Fate had stripped him of fortune; but she could not persuade Rosalie to refuse him her hand, or her lip; when, half-way down the lane, she heard a light quick step behind her, and, turning, beheld Theodore. Theodore's wishes, as I stated before, were granted soon as communicated; and now nothing remained but to say good-bye, perhaps the hardest thing to two young lovers. Rosalie stood passive in the arms of Theodore, as he took the farewell kiss, which appeared as if it would join his lips to hers for ever, instead of tearing them away. She heard her name called from a short distance, and in a half-suppressed voice; she started, and turned towards the direction whence the pre-concerted warning came; she heard it again; she had stopped till the last moment! She had halfwithdrawn herself from Theodore's arms; she looked at him; flung her own around him, and burst into tears upon his neck In another minute there was nobody in the lane. (To be continued.) TO FLOWERS IN AUTUMN. Oh! beautiful and holy, as I bend me o'er these flowers, Are the thoughts that flit athwart my mind of summer's sunny hours, Creating in their fancies, a world that's all my own, Giving to earth's dull samenesses, a brightness and a tone. Ye bring a softness to the heart-a sympathizing power, I love ye, flowers; but how unlike the love I bear to them eyes. But the love I bear to ye, is of a calmer kind, A sort of pity, thrilling o'er a stillness of the mind, Unlike the wild ideas, when all nature's gay, that bless— But, if I love ye not as them, I do not love ye less! L. 35. 2. C E. H. P. THE PRICE OF A QUADRILLE. Tho' after all perhaps 'twas cheaply bought, TRUTH. Oh, be not that dull slave who only looks And reasoning works, through Reason's medium view; When all may fail, as some succeed-by chance ? And if Locke err, must thousands err like Locke? |