vented danger, she took up a light, and softly ascending the stairs, opened the window, and demanded who required admission?

"Friends," replied a voice, which she instantly knew to be Oswald's.

Jacintha nearly screamed from surprise; but without stopping to inquire the cause of his unexpected return, she flew down to admit him and his servant.

The moment he entered, he expressed his fears of having alarmed her, and assured her he should have slept at the inn where he stopped to have his horses put up, had he not perceived a light glimmering through the parlour windows.

Jacintha endeavoured to hide the flutter his sudden return had thrown her into, by busying herself in procuring him such refreshments as he seemed to require.

Egbert gave her a thousand thanks for her kind attention, and also informed her, that his coming back so soon, was owing to the illness of the gentleman whom he and Woodville had gone to visit.

"Woodville proposed," said he, "my accompanying him a little farther, to the habitation of another friend; but I was not in a humour to relish festivity, so turned homewards in spite of wind and weather."

Jacintha having stirred the fire into a cheerful blaze, and laid wine and other things before him, wished him good night, and was retiring, when he suddenly caught her hand.

"In such a hurry to leave me?" cried he, reproachfully.

Jacintha said, she had merely sat up for her father and mother, whom she had now given up all expectation of seeing that night.

"I hope," cried Egbert," you will not deem me impertinently curious, if I ask whether any thing has happened to distress you; for I cannot behold the traces of tears upon your cheek without making the inquiry?"

"Nothing new," replied Jacintha, laying an involuntary emphasis on the last word; then, suddenly recollecting herself, and blushing at the surmises which her manner of speaking might excite, and alarmed lest the real cause of the tears she had been shedding might be suspected, she hastily added, she had been reading a melancholy book, which had affected her spirits.

"You can feel then for fictitious woes," said Egbert, "while you disregard real ones."

"I hope not," cried Jacintha, with much resentment both in her voice and countenance; “I should be sorry to think I had any false sensibility in my disposition."

"Permit me to try," said Egbert, " permit me to try whether a narrative of real sorrows will affect you as much as one of imaginary woes has done?"

"What narrative...whose sorrows do you mean?" demanded Jacintha.

"My own," replied Egbert, in a serious accent, and looking stedfastly at her as he spoke.

"Excuse me," said Jacintha, affecting a careless and unconcerned manner, in order to hide the confusion created by his looks; " I never wish to hear sorrows to which I cannot administer some consolation."

"But if you were assured you could administer consolation," cried Egbert, eagerly, "would you then refuse to hear them?"

"Yes, any thing to night," replied Jacintha; "for 'tis far beyond my usual hour of sitting up.”

"I should be extremely sorry, madam,” cried Egbert, dropping her hand, and visibly piqued by her seeming indifference," to break in upon your rest." He then presented alight to her, and opening the parlour door, in a very ceremonious manner, wished her good night.

"Ah!" cried Jacintha, as she slowly ascended the stairs, half glad, half sorry she had left him, 66 you little know how much you have disturbed my rest.....how greatly, how fatally you have injured my happiness and repose!"

The more she reflected upon his words....his manner, the more agitated she felt herself; and it required all the efforts of reason to repel the suggestions of hope: but she had suffered too severely from recent disappointment, to permit herself again to yield to its flatteries; yet, notwithstanding all the calmness, the indifference, she tried to assume when she thought of Egbert, she could not think of meeting him in the morning without a fluttering sensation of delight and expectation.

Restless and perturbed, she rose at an early hour. In her way to the stairs she was obliged to pass Oswald's study; the door was open, and to her extreme surprise, she beheld a breakfast-table laid before the fire, and Oswald himself, booted, spurred, and completely equipped for going out, looking very attentively over some papers at a desk.

It instantly occurred to her he was going upon some excursion; and the conjecture was attended by a pang, which convinced her, notwithstanding all her resolution to the contrary, that she had listened rather more believingly to the whispers of hope than she should have done.

Oswald caught a glimpse of her as she was passing; he hurried after her, and taking her hand, entreated her to come in, and take a cup of coffee with him. "I did not imagine," cried he, " that you would forsake your pillow at so early an hour, and therefore ordered breakfast, as I have a long journey before me to-day, to the house of Mr. Meredith." At the mention of this name, which she could never hear without uneasiness, the heart of Jacintha almost died away, and she felt her colour change; she wished to quit Oswald, lest her painful emotions, or rather the cause of these emotions, should be discovered; but was too much agitated to make an effort to do so.

He accordingly led her into the study; and having placed her beside the fire, begged she would be so obliging as to pour out the coffee, while he put up the papers he had been examining.

Jacintha's eyes were involuntarily directed towards him; amongst the scattered papers which he was now busy in collecting, she perceived an open casket containing some very valuable orna

nts (the identical ones which had been purnased for her acceptance). At this sight, all her apprehensions concerning Miss Meredith were confirmed; she could not doubt that Oswald was going to make final proposals to her, and that these ornaments were intended for a nuptial pre

sent.

She trembled...she could scarcely breathe from the agony occasioned by this supposition; and with difficulty prevented her tears from falling.

Egbert, turning with quickness from the desk, perceived her eyes fastened upon the casket. He directly caught it up, and closing it in an agitation which surprised Jacintha, flung it from him, ex

claiming, "What painful remembrances does this excite!"

Jacintha averted her head, and began to pour out the coffee: but spilt more than half of it in doing so.

"Oh God!" cried Egbert, clasping his hands together, and traversing the room with a disordered step; "when first that casket came into my possession, what hopes, what prospects of felicity were mine! How great a change has taken place in one short year! How have all these hopes, these prospects, been blasted...been utterly annihilated!"

Jacintha, no longer able to controul her feelings, burst into an agony of tears, and started up in order to quit the room.

"Good Heaven!" said Egbert, hastily placing himself between her and the door, and catching her hand, "what is the matter?"

"Nothing," replied Jacintha, in extreme confusion; "I am not very well, my spirits are low. Pray, Mr. Oswald, do not detain me.'

"I can

"Has any thing I have said," asked Egbert, with trembling eagerness, "affected you? But no," he continued, in a melancholy tone; not flatter myself it has. Some secret grief...some unknown sorrow, causes this emotion. Oh, Miss Greville! could you look into my heart, could you conceive the strong anxiety it feels...the interest it takes in whatever concerns you, you would not deem me impertinently curious if I desired to know the occasion of your tears.”

"You anxious! you interested about me!" exclaimed Jacintha, with involuntary warmth, no longer able to suppress the resentment, the

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