The Savings-Bank failing-after two London-patterns-swept away Annie Wilson's scanty hoard. It coerced Grace to address Dean Evelyn. The statement was unreplied-to. A gaunt night-mare-THE WORKHOUSE-then crushed-down upon the bed-clothes. Winter matured. Miss Evrett decayed. The few books preserved from Shetly-some, the birth-day presents of her father-had to be sold in defrayment of the apothecary. He was dismissed also. Gradually, article after article disappeared. The lonely cot seemed lonelier seemed depopulating of old and well-loved friends. The air around grew unnaturally stagnaut. A pin's fall sounded startlingly within. Weekly she decayed. The figure reduced. The face thinned. The limbs disowned their function. Whilst able, she sketched and painted her labors were disposed-of in the neighboring town. Then ensued the sempstress's Work-work-work! Till the brain began to swim; Till the eyes were heavy and dim! VOL. III. I : Work-work-work! From weary chime to chime; As prisoners work for crime! Oft would the weeping Annie implore her desistance and she would double her accustomed quota. Grace's unflinching effort, unmurmuring resignation, unruffled sweetness, assimilated her to something which should rather be idolised than commonly loved. The maid half-caught the spirit of the mis tress. But Lady Saintly, let from the clouds, condoled; descanted piously; and invited (however idly) to Saintstown-a kindness Grace so felt (the more, from their repulse at a wealthier epoch), that she could not interdict the son's polite inquiries, while his mother sojourned near. Her ladyship's object was their marriage—the 'slipping into a decent family" retaining its Hood. lure: but, of her carnal scion's, seduction formed the main ingredient. The venom-fang exhibited, the Conciliator of Fashion and Sanctity was excluded, with a dignity of eloquent indignation which he could not have believed within a beggar's scope. Bnt perse veringly he beset the prey, till he almost tore her from death through excitement, and again almost goaded her beyond it through abhorrence-and then betook himself to civic socialities, to boast of what he had been feeble to accomplish. Saintly's final attack had been overseen by an individual, who afterwards waited upon and tendered her his services. Mr. Howorth was of middle-age and size, robustly-shaped, manifestly well-born, habituated to the best classes, and, though not precisely handsome, of singularly pre possessing converse. His wedlock neutralised any impropriety in being a constant visitor. A straitened income inclined himself to seclusion, and his wife to her relatives. Yet here his sympathy triumphed, in offerings of fruit, confections, and various trifles grateful to an invalid. Lastly, with his elegance of manner and goodness of character, an odd license of remark combined, that surprised her; but he so unconcernedly glided thence into his wonted train, that she would inwardly shudder through apprehension of being prompted by prior harassings to unfeminine tenacity of evil. Daily she decayed. His attentiveness was unrelaxing. Late, one November-evening, he resorted thither. For what? To expiate his deceit. He was not wedded! Succeeded to affluence, he besought her participation. She rejoiced in his welfare; but hers was beyond the tomb. The next evening, still later, he re-solicited; would have embraced her; but-discountenanced -departed for expatriation. Meant he no more? That's a mystery. For, the same evening, an hour later still, stood Villiers by her bed-side. No. 11.-The knotting of some threads. Horror wide extends THOMPSON.-The Seasons. Erected weariedly on her elbow, she glanced from him to the spelled Annie; cast back the spare shreds of those tresses which once had shamed "the raven down of darkness;" gazed intenselier as, his face unshaded, their eyes met. Then-like one palsy-smitten-relapsed. He leapt to catch her. Outstretched hands repelled him. "But a moment," he cried, deliriously, reading loathing in the attitude-which they were too worn to maintain.-"Leave me," she uttered, lacing them, quivering, across her bosom-" or I die !" Like a bolt, it smote him. It evoked as if from |