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thousandth time. Amongst these sacred relics were some old pieces of jewelry, rings and seals of her parents; the golden head of a walking cane upon which her father's name was engraved; a small side poniard, with a red scabbard; a pair of ear-drops made of her father's hair; a heap of old guitar strings, broken and bound up together, and a package of old letters carefully tied with a blue ribbon. She intended to carry these things with her; for she felt that Sterling was going to provide for her in some way or other. She concealed every thing in her under clothes, not forgetting her locket. She despaired of taking her guitar; and yet she could not bear to part with it. Its strings, its tones, its keys and screws; its broken edges from which the inlaid pieces of pearl had one by one dropped, leaving it worn and shattered--all these things so attached her heart to the instrument, that she worried her feverish brain all the night long, for a scheme by which to save it: but in vain-she could think of nothing.

She contrived to keep her taper burning. Not a wink did the child sleep during the night. The secret joys that pervaded her heart, kept her mind. in a continuous tumult. She did not wish to sleep. She longed only to see the broad eyes of day peeping through the windows; for she apprehended no difficulty in getting off, as Maggie frequently sent her to market. At length the slow-pacing morning came. Lily was dressed for her departure. She had thrust the blind open, to see how near it was

to sun-rise. At that moment, Maggie called, from the adjoining room.

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"Lily, here, honey: run to market, and bring the celery and fowls."

Lily went into Maggie's room for the market money." "O Miss Maggie" she said

"you I could

know there is a screw broke in my guitar. hardly play it last night. It'll only cost a quarter. Let me take it with me to the shop, as I go by, and leave it for a screw."

"Certainly, child," said Mag,— and she gave Lily an extra quarter to pay for it.

Lily looked not into Maggie's eyes. Her intrepid spirit sunk under her present disguises. Several months' residence in this den of pollution had not effaced from this child's mind the beautiful registers of truth which had been left there by the early teachings of a devoted mother.

In a twinkling, the child was in the street; Her market-basket on one arm, and her guitar on the other. She ran until she came in sight of the market, sometimes looking back as if fearful of pursuit! Her little legs were nearly giving way; her heart was in her throat; her eyes everywhere. As she approached the market, she saw Sterling, standing at the corner, with a great cloak over him, watching for her.

CHAPTER VI.

"Come along, my little jewel," said Sterling. It was but a short walk from the market to Gadsby's Hotel. Few persons were abroad. There was no difficulty in passing from the street to Sterling's apartments. Lily followed him with basket in hand. Not even a servant met them; so that when Sterling reached his room he was convinced that no one in the house had seen Lily come in with him. He locked the door to keep off intruders. Lily's guitar and basket were deposited on the floor. The little innocent fell upon Sterling's neck, utterly exhausted, when a flood of tears came streaming from her eyes, as if her heart was breaking. He did not strive to prevent her weeping. Pressing her to his heart, he kissed her burning forehead, and without speaking, soothed her by the thousand gentle graces and caresses which generosity is so forward to suggest to the good spirits of the earth for the comfort of the distressed.

Sterling, in this affair, had taken no thought for the future. Prompted alone by the resolution to remove an innocent child from the cells of pollution, he thought not of the consequences. At this moment, when the girl lay in his arms, some dim foreboding thoughts of heavy responsibilities flung their misty shadows over his mind. What if she should be

taken sick, in his apartments? what if she should die there? How could he explain the matter; how satisfy a scrutinizing world; how appease the hungry curiosity of the legion news-mongers! These thoughts quickly became apprehensions when Lily began to mumble strange inarticulate sounds. Her eyes, half open, glared with insanity. Her brain was in a delirium, and her body trembled as if wrung by spasms. He called her; she answered not! Laying her on a sofa, he wheeled it near the fire, and applied to her face and head large quantities of cologne. Her lips and neck he bathed with brandy. But this brought no relief. Long sighs escaped her convulsed body; and her lips ponting and compressing themselves by turns, were sometimes drawn into her frothing mouth, so that Sterling with difficulty prevented her from biting them. There was a rap at the door. He made no answer. The rap was repeated! Sterling hastily removed the child into one of the chambers, adjoining his parlor, and opened the outer door. It was a servant who came to see if he wished anything.

"Nothing," said Sterling, angrily, slamming the door in the servant's face.

Lily had bitten her tongue in his absence, and blood was running from her mouth. Her hands were clinched in her hair; her head was thrown back, exposing her long, white bony neck. Phlegm and froth were gurgling in her throat. Poor Sterling thought that she was dying! what should he do? He was himself now nearly prostrate; as tre

mulous as a child! Wild with apprehension, not so much for the life of the frail creature before him, as for his own personal honor, he rang his bell with a desperate jerk, so that a waiter was at his door in a minute.

"Who is the best doctor in town?"

"Dr. Curtis," replied the man.

"Send for him, immediately," said Sterling, handing his card to the servant.

"Tell the clerk to

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Sterling ran to Burton's rooms, which were near to his own, and waking the senator without ceremony, requested him to come to his room.

Burton, seeing something extraordinary in Sterling's face, arose, and throwing on his morning gown, followed.

CHAPTER VII.

In a remote but beautiful part of the city of Washington, on the banks of the Potomac, with the front looking upon the river, stands a small, well constructed cottage, with the surrounding pleasure grounds newly laid out. The absence of antiquity about it is relieved by the appearance of improvement, which is sufficiently indicated by the tools and implements of gardening and of building which lie around in various places. Small rows of the boxtree already begin to edge the walks, and shrubbery

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