case, to a delicate physical organization, predispose their possessor to depression and anxiety of mind under trial; and one of his greatest and most constant efforts was the struggle against this tendency to faithlessness, incumbent on a Christian. The invaluable blessing of those mental habits consequent upon an early training in sound Church principles, of order, submission, calmness, and self-restraint, had, under Divine Grace, enabled him in a great measure to subdue it; but the original tendency remained, as all human frailties do remain, requiring watchfulness. And on the morning in question he was less than usually able to contend against it, from the exhaustion caused by a sleepless night. Plunged in a melancholy reverie, he had remained, how long he could not tell—but were hours measured by thoughts, it must have been for many hours when he was aroused by a light touch upon his shoulder. An arm stole

round his neck, and he turned to clasp Mary in his arms, as she sat down beside him.

"Mary, dearest! out so early? How is this?"

"I could not sleep, Lewis. I have been so unhappy. Are you better, dearest Lewis? Are you quite well to-day? I fear not; you do not look so."

“I am quite well, my own Mary; but I have a great deal to tell you; and we shall be uninterrupted here," said Græme. "How glad, how very glad I am of this meeting."

"And so am I. I have so much to tell you!" answered Mary. A mutual disclosure followed, unreserved on either part, except that neither could bear to repeat to the other the full extent of Mrs. Clarkson's coarse indelicacy with respect to their engagement, and Mary's worldly prospects. But however softened her account of her aunt's language to her, Mary had never before seen Græme so indignant or so much

wounded; and although, to her unutterable relief, she found him completely disposed to agree with her as to the utter absurdity of the allegations respecting Musgrave, she could not avoid perceiving that he was disposed to blame the latter, for having, however unintentionally, exposed her to such animadversions as he had been told of.

"A man of the world, Mary," he said, "a man who knows what society is, and what watering-places are, ought not to have acted so. See to what his attentions have laid you open! He ought to have considered that."

"Dear Lewis! the attentions of a father to a daughter. The attentions of an old friend of Mamma's family! Would it ever have occurred to you, or any one in his senses, to have construed them in any other way? I am sure it never would but for this most cruel interference."

"I do not think it would, Mary, I confess;

and yet you see that people, who certainly are in their senses, have done so, by your aunt's account; and have it in their power henceforth to say things that It is torture to think of it! All will soon be at an end now; and after this, I dare not regret it; but then we cannot shut these persons' mouths."

Yes, but we can be conscious that they have no real grounds for any such false and silly allegations," said Mary, and that is much, Lewis. When a thing is palpably and ridiculously untrue, surely it is beneath. one to care for it."

"And is it beneath me, Mary," answered Græme, drawing her close to him, and clasping her hand in his, "to care that when you leave this place, where your innocent enjoyment has been so cruelly poisoned, you leave it for such a homeleave it to be exposed to what I know you will be- to the indelicate taunts of that-of

-Mrs. Clarkson-to the insolence of that girl, whose shrill voice is still ringing in my ears? You will be exposed to all this, and more of which I dare say you have never given me an idea; and I, who would die for you, shall be far distant, and unable to help or release you.'

"You are able to do much to help me, dearest Lewis," said Mary, smiling through the tears which had started to her eyes. "You can love me always, and write to me, and endeavour to keep up you own spirits, in full assurance that I can bear a great deal whilst I have hope and your affection left; and also that I shall have less to bear after the very first than fears lead you to think. And

your

"And I can take shame to myself, when I remember your brave, sweet spirit, my own Mary. You always were so much. better, so much nobler in your meek endurance than I!"