domestics at Southland House may be well conceived, when I drove up to the door and informed them that circumstances had happened which prevented my marriage with Miss Delamere from taking place that day-that I should not remain there more than half-an-hour, but that it was absolutely necessary I should inspect a part of the premises. They gazed on me in wonder, but complied with my request of leaving me to myself; and as I knew the situation of Anna's apartments from having frequently in former times seen her at the window, I quickly bent my way to them. I passed through a small, neat bed-chamber; a door was on the other side; I opened it, and stood within her sitting apartment. Alas! Alas! Walwyn, the books, the drawings, the colour of the walls, every particular had been fully and exactly shadowed forth in my dream: there stood the sofa on which Anna had reclined, and there stood the very circular table from which the deadly draught had been lifted, administered by Claudine to the innocent and helpless girl! I reentered the chaise, and returned to London, there to find an angry and contemptuous letter from Mr. Delamere, whose bitter reproaches I endured patiently, feeling that I had given but too great occasion for them. A few days passed: my conduct was blazoned about: I was universally blamed: some of my friends passed me in the street without recognition; some, influenced either by kindness or curiosity, told me that they would gladly listen to any explanation of my conduct, and shook their heads when I declared that I had none to give and a few showed their good will by stoutly maintaining that my conduct could only be the result of hereditary insanity! This defence, however, fell to the ground; for my ancestors, so far from having displayed any symptoms of lunacy, could not even be proved guilty of eccentricity."

"And what was Claudine doing or suffering all this time?" asked Dr. Walwyn.

"Claudine," replied D'Arcy, "was seriously ill for some time, and I began to question whether I were indeed acting right in inflicting a real punishment on a person for an uncertain offence. Claudine, however, recovered; and I determined to seek an interview with her, and to endeavour to judge of her innocence or guilt by her demeanour. I ascertained that Mr. Delamere was from home, and knocked at the door. The footman who opened it seemed inclined to close it again before my entrance, but I slipped a sovereign into his hand, and directed him to tell Miss Delamere that a gentleman wished to speak to her on particular business. The man complied with my request, probably anticipating that I was desirous of effecting a reconciliation with his young mistress, and in a moment I stood in the presence of Claudine. She gazed on me with such mingled contempt and indignation, that I seemed to feel myself a guilty creature before her, and still remained standing. She coldly asked me my reason for intruding on her. I began by alluding to my dream; and her beautiful lip curled with all, and more than all

of its former scorn at my pitiful subterfuge, as she was doubtless disposed to consider it. I related the room that I had seen, and the manner in which it was furnished. My account did not seem to make any impression on her; she doubtless concluded that I had previously been acquainted with Anna's sitting-room at Southland House, and was therefore well able to describe it. When, however, I mentioned her own stealthy entrance, the colour departed from her cheeks; when I alluded to the packet that she had drawn from her bosom, she sank into a chair; and when I specified the inscription in a foreign language, and the fatal word which was written beneath it, violent and fearful hysterics ensued, and I was obliged to ring for assistance, and leave her to the care of her servants. I could not stay with her, for I was well convinced of her guilt."

"I do not know that you were entitled to judge of her guilt," said Doctor Walwyn, “by her hysterics: a sudden and unlooked-for accusation might well excite feelings of anger or of terror in an innocent person.

"Undoubtedly," replied D'Arcy; "but Claudine's emotions were not those of anger or of terror. Her countenance expressed at once shame at the detection of her guilt, and horror at the awful manner in which it had been betrayed. I resolved, however, to breathe no accusation against her: my regard and respect for the excellent Mr. Delamere made me revolt from the idea of adding to the grief that he was already suffering on account of his daughter's sorrows. He believed her injured and innocent, and I resolved that from me he should never be made acquainted with her guilt. I made no efforts to justify myself, or to regain my position in society: my time was occupied principally in reading and reflection, and after the lapse of a few months, I determined to travel through France and Italy to recruit my failing health and depressed spirits. A delightful little town in Italy tempted me to linger there for a few days; and to my unspeakable surprise, I encountered Mr. Delamere in one of my long walks. He passed me coldly and proudly, without recognition; and I immediately made inquiries in the vicinity respecting himself and his daughter. I heard that they had for some time inhabited a beautiful villa at the distance of about a mile from my abode, and that Miss Delamere was suffering under an illness which was expected to terminate fatally. The next morning a note was delivered to me, and though the hand-writing was trembling, agitated, and blotted with tears, I easily recognized that of Claudine; the words were as follows:

"Accident has acquainted me with your residence here my father has left home for some hours: do not refuse to grant me an immediate interview: I have an important disclosure to make to you."

I instantly accompanied the messenger of this note, and was again introduced into Claudine's presence; but oh! how altered was she in person and manner since our last terrible inter

circumstances under which it had been given to me a year ago, and which had almost faded from my mind. A lady and gentleman had dined with us, who brought with them a celebrated Italian physician, then staying on a visit to them. In the evening he heard me speaking to the lady whom he had accompanied, relative to one of my poor pensioners, who was afflicted with a painful malady.

I am glad to tell you,' he said, that I can offer you a remedy which seldom fails to cure the complaint to which you allude; it is in the form of a powder, and is of the most essential use when administered in minute grains; it is necessary, however, to warn you, that in larger quantities it is a destructive poison, and one which is as safe as it is subtle, for the pain caused by it is very slight, indeed less than is usually suffered in cases of natural death; and it causes no change of countenance which would be likely to excite suspicion. I would not,' he continued with a smile, trust it to everybody, but to you, Miss Delamere, I can safely confide it; you are so well qualified to deal death-blows by your eyes, that you have no occasion to seek for the chemist's magic art' to assist you!'

A merry laugh echoed from the circle around, in which I joined. Alas! how vain, how presumptuous was the observation! Who can say that high station in the world, polish of manner, or refinement of mind, can guard their possessors From the inclination to sin? The hour of temptation will come alike to all, and none may hope to resist it but those who are guarded by reli- | gious principle, and who seek refuge from the suggestions of the evil one in fervent and humble prayer. The next morning the Italian physician called upon me, and brought the promised drug.

The properties of it,' he said, are already described in the envelope; but as they are written in Italian, and it is well to be prudent, I will take care that all mistakes shall be prevented.'

'He then dipped a pen in the standish, and wrote in large letters the word Poison' on the paper. I thanked him for his attention, but I never made use of the powder; I was rather afraid of the responsibility I might incur; and as my poor pensioner began to recover about that time, I thought nothing more of the packet till it met my eye on the present occasion. Oh! what emotions did it cause in my mind; it appeared to me like a magic talisman placed before me, as the means of freeing myself from my detested rival. I put it within my bosom, and repaired with soft steps to Anna's sitting-room. She was sleeping; I walked to her side; her regular breathing, and the wild-rose tint of her complexion, told me that health was rapidly returning to her. It shall never return,' I thought, as I shook the powder into a glass, and cast the envelope into the fire. One moment I paused-my better angel suggested to me how fearful was the crime that I was meditating. Anna moved the word D'Arcy' faintly escaped her lips; this steeled my wavering resolution, I took a crystal flask of lemon

ade, and filled the glass with it, and stood by her side just as she was thoroughly aroused from sleep, presenting her with the pernicious draught. Thank you, Claudine,' she said as she drank it; how kind it is of you to visit me in my sickness!' And she spoke to me of her flowers, her songs, and her drawings, little thinking that she should never again partake in their simple pleasures. I do not know by what power I commanded myself to answer her observations without embarrassment or trepidation. I suppose the dread of possible detection inspired me with this ability; but for half an hour did I sit by the sofa of the gentle and lovely creature whose thread of life had been already severed by my relentless hand, listening to her remarks, and accepting her thanks for my kindness. Morning visitors were then announced to me, and I obeyed the summons. Oh! think how dreadful to remain above an hour hearing idle frivolous tattle, obliged to seem interested in doleful accounts of blighted fruit-trees, a lame pony, a broken porcelain jar, and a disrespectful lady's maid, and compelled to assume a look of commiseration, and to utter expressions of condolence, while all the time my heart was racked with the united agonies of fear and guilt. At last they departed, and my father came in; and after asking if Anna continued to improve, and listening to my reply in the affirmative, he began to relate to me a merry story which he had just read in a new publication, pausing at intervals to laugh, and wondering that I did not seem to catch the point of the jest. A servant just then entered hastilyMiss Welford has become suddenly worse,' she said. My father ran into the room, followed by myself. Anna was pale and suffering, her words were scarcely articulate. I am dying, Claudine,' she faintly uttered, forgive me for the wrong I have done you.' Alas! alas! how well might I have reciprocated her entreaty. Dr. Maddox was instantly sent for, but she had breathed her last before his arrival, and my frantic shrieks over her lifeless body were imputed by him and by my father to the warmth of my feelings and the intensity of my attachment to her. No suspicion was excited by the suddenness of her death; it happened by a singular coincidence, that a few hours afterwards, the lovely young wife of a neighbouring baronet, who had appeared to be recovering from the same complaint, was carried off by a severe and unexpected relapse. Dr. Maddox, when he told the tale among his patients, of the sad and unlooked-for death of Lady Melvin, was accustomed to add, And poor Miss Welford died six hours before, under precisely similar circumstances;' and his auditors felt the lesser calamity merged in the greater, gave all their pity to the bereaved husband and motherless infants of Lady Melvin, and considered that they showed great sensibility in adding, Poor Anna Welford, she was a sweet girl; but after all, there is nobody to grieve for her.'

'Nobody to grieve for her! The fondest mother bewailing the loss of her first-born, the

most fervent lover weeping over the grave of his betrothed bride, the most devoted wife deprived by the stroke of death of the husband of her affections-feel an anguish slight, faint, and poor compared with mine, when I reflected that I was the destroyer of my dear and early friend. Could the sacrifice of my lover or of my life have restored Anna to existence, I would not have hesitated a moment to forego them; my days were a burden to me; the very air I breathed seemed hateful to me; the people who addressed me appeared as though they were mocking and deriding me. I shrank from the trials destined for me in this world; I shrank still more fearfully from the punishment in store for me in the world to come. The violence of my anguish had somewhat abated before your arrival, and your professions of affection soothed and gratified my feelings. Still, however, I felt that there was no peace for me in Southland House, and I eagerly embraced my father's proposal of a tour through Wales. My spirits became in a great measure calmed by that delightful journey, and I presumptuously believed that God would pardon my wickedness, and suffer it to prosper. When your letter was delivered to my father early on the morning of the day appointed for our marriage, I was agonized with mortification and anger; but I felt not the slightest suspicion of the discovery of my guilty secret; nothing, I argued, could possibly have happened in the few dark, silent, solitary hours of night, to change your opinion of me, and I therefore imputed your conduct to the love which you felt even in death for Anna; and never was my conscience so quiet, and my remorse so light, as when I reflected that I had succeeded in depriving you of her who was dearer to you than honour itself, and that I could never be called upon to undergo the humiliation of beholding the false lover, who had deserted me almost at the foot of the altar, rewarded for his treachery by the hand of his beloved Anna. Grief and wounded pride, however, occasioned me a severe illness; and when I recovered, and you found means to enter into my presence, I actually forgot my own guilt, which was only known to God, in my horror of yours, which was the subject of discussion and censure to man. I felt little moved or troubled by your recital of the early scenes of your dream; but when you mentioned the packet and its inscription, oh! what a dreadful and startling conviction of the wonderful dealings of Providence burst upon my shuddering ear and sickening heart! I remember nothing more till I found myself in my own room, surrounded by assiduous attendants, who whispered to each other their commiseration for my undeserved sorrows. Alas! alas! how forcibly did I feel the overwhelming power of the Omnipotent to discover secret sin. I had administered a deadly draught to my early friend in the solitude of her quiet chamber; she had died in the belief of my kindness and attachment to her; all around me deemed that I had truly loved her in life, and deeply lamented her in death; but there was One, whose eye was on my

evil deeds, and who in his own good time thought fit to make them manifest. Had I reverenced that supreme God as I ought, had I studied his sacred word, and trodden in his holy ways, I should not have felt tempted to the commission of that crime which has rendered me the wretch I now am; my days are numbered, and draw to a close. Oh! D'Arcy, pity me, and pray for me.'

Earnestly and anxiously did I attempt to lead Claudine to trust in the intercession of that blessed Redeemer who died to save sinners even vile and guilty as herself; but my words appeared to have no effect on her. Shrinking, and naturally shrinking, from the justice of God, she felt unable to cling to his mercy, and she seemed to think of the merits of her Saviour as offering a gracious atonement for the common errors and failings of mortality, but as never intended to cancel a crime of such fearful magnitude as her own. I left her in a frame of mind melancholy to reflect upon, and in two days I quitted the neighbourhood, for the servants of Mr. Delamere had not preserved the secresy which Claudine had enjoined upon them respecting my visit to her; it was known and commented upon, and I became the object of such general attention and observation, that I was glad to depart to another part of the country. In a few weeks I read of the death of Claudine Delamere; her remains were borne to England, and a splendid monument erected to her memory, celebrating her virtues and excellencies in an eloquent inscription.

"I did not return to England for some years, and continued even then to lead a life of great privacy and retirement. I was not disposed to throw myself upon the mercy of society as a humble candidate for re-admission into its charmed circle; books were my companions and friends; and till the events of the last few months happily introduced me to your ledge, I was completely bereft of the luxury arising from free and unreserved communication with a kindred mind.

know

"About two years ago, Mr. Delamere died, and his feelings towards me were unchanged to the last. He was a worthy and kind-hearted man; and although enthusiastic love for his daughter was his leading characteristic, he had a general good will and affection for all his fellowcreatures. Twice had Mr. Delamere been se verely injured by private friends; one of them had defrauded him of a large sum of money which he had entrusted in his hands, and the other had prejudiced the mind of a wealthy relative against him by artful and slanderous insinuations, till the large legacy which had always been destined for Delamere fell to the share of his invidious calumniator. When the last hours of this excellent man approached, he said to a friend, Carry to Creswell and Phillipson the full assurance of my forgiveness for the injuries they have done me, and tell them, that if it will gratify them to receive this assurance in person, I am perfectly willing to accept a visit from either or both of them.'