while a mellow haze seemed enveloping the surrounding landscape, as Arnold called his dog and returned, still thoughtful, to the barracks.

That short rencontre with the Miss Sydenhams had added fresh fuel to the flame that was beginning rather to scorch than warm his imagination, and he awoke next morning more in love than ever.

He was at breakfast when his servant handed him a note which had just arrived. He tore it open hastily, and found it was from a friend in the regi

ment.

"DEAR HALL,-How on earth do you manage to get over time at C. We are vegetating here in a manner quite awful to think of; but there is a likelihood of the detachments being called in, and we are all to proceed to very soon, which will be a pleasing variety. Captain Devenish and his wife and myself intend going over to C to behold that wonderful ruin in your vicinity, and I believe Mrs. Devenish wishes also to see some people of the name of Sydenham, whom I dare say you know. Till then adieu, and believe me,

"Ever yours sincerely,

"GODFREY MABERLY."

Arnold read the note with a mixture of pain and pleasure. The probability of leaving C- gave him more annoyance than satisfaction, and the prospect of seeing his friend pleased him. The Sydenhams, too, were mentioned, and without well knowing why, his drooping spirit hoped again.

It was fortunate for Arnold that he had no greater affliction to contend with than the misery of his hapless love affair, yet some how or other he was beginning to look as woe-begone and downcast as if his heart was really breaking. Continually absorbed in the contemplation of one subject, and in vain anxieties, which kept him frequently wide awake throughout whole. nights, it was not surprising that he became abstracted and melancholy, and that his face lost much of its former healthy hue.

Some of our readers will, no doubt, be too wise to credit the fact of a young man pining away thus suddenly for the sake of a girl whom he had scarcely seen anywhere but in church, and never exchanged a word with; yet there are as strange circumstances occurring every day of a like description, and Arnold

Hall was by no means a singular character. He had often been in love, or, at least, fancied himself so; but he felt now something which appeared to himself far deeper than he ever felt before, and with all the delusion of a youthful passion, he imagined his lady love gifted with every attribute of mind that could render her perfectly amiable and charming.

The three days which elapsed previous to the arrival of his friend, seemed very, very long, but at last came to an end, and he was really glad when Maberly made his appearance.

"Well, old fellow, you find staying here slow work enough, I fancy," were the first words of his friend, after the customary greeting was over; "you look like a ghost, positively."

"To tell the truth, I have never been more miserable in my life than I have been since we were sent to C——," replied Arnold with a little heat.

"What on earth sort of a place is it? Any fun, such as balls or parties, going on?"

"Not a bit. Scarcely a soul has even thought it proper to visit us, except the. clergymen of the town, and Doctor Reynolds. None of the country gentry have called at all."

"What a set of ruffians they must be!"

"Positive savages, leaving a set of fellows in such a place to amuse themselves as they best can. Even if they did not entertain, they might at least pay us the respect of a morning call." Arnold was chiefly thinking with bitterness of Mr. Sydenhams extraordinary neglect of himself and his companions.

"Any pretty girls in the vicinity?" inquired Maberly.

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Why, yes, there are the daughters of the resident magistrate, well enough looking; but they keep very much to themselves, and are not to be seen out anywhere."

"Locked up, probably, by their papa, Mr. Sydenham, is it not? Mrs. Devenish is a bosom friend of one of them, and says she is a species of angel. It is the eldest, I believe."

"She is nice looking enough," replied Arnold, "and I wish to heavens that I was as fortunate in being acquainted with her as Mrs. Devenish

is."

"Why, are you in love, old boy?" demanded Maberly, in surprise.

"No, not exactly with the eldest Miss Sydenham, but I think one of her sisters has taken rather a fancy to myself, and to confess a secret, I would give a good deal to be introduced to her."

"The deuce you would! and what has become of your penchant for Ellen Cooke, at Fethard?'

"Oh, that is all over now; she was not to be compared to Miss Sydenham."

"And so you want to get acquainted with her. Perhaps Mrs. Devenish might manage the business for you. She is a cute hand at that sort of thing."

"And will you make interest for me with her, like a good fellow?" asked Arnold, cheering up, and losing all pride in the hopes of becoming introduced to his lady-love under any cir

cumstance.

"I shall do what I can. Mrs. Devenish is very good natured; but if you let her into your secret, of course she will reveal it to the girls, and do you wish that?"

"Why, no; I should as soon they would not know it at once. Tell her I am anxious to become acquainted with the Miss Sydenhams, as they are pretty, and she will not trouble her head much about the matter. For heaven's sake, Maberly, arrange the affair in some sort of a way, for I really am most miserable."

"I am very sorry for you, but don't quite believe it, though you do look a little used up. We must not delay the business, then, for Devenish won't remain here after to-morrow, so there is no time to spare."

The conversation of the two young men continued for some time longer, but nothing was said of importance, and they separated to dress for dinner, Maberly having given a last assurance of doing what he could for Arnold with Mrs. Devenish, whose obliging disposition made it easy for him to ask a favour from her; she was, moreover, a rather clever young woman, and likely to settle an affair, such as the one in question, admirably. Her friendship for Miss Sydenham had sprung up about a year ago, when they accidentally met, for the first time, at the house of a mutual acquaintance, where they were both on a visit of a three weeks' duration. She knew very little of the young lady's family concerns, as the gentle reserve of Miss Sydenham's manners rendered it impossible for any

well-bred person to obtrude herself on her confidence, so that Mrs. Devenish was unable to give Arnold very much satisfaction relative to Mr. Sydenham's circumstances and connexions.

She merely described his eldest daughter as a very sweet, lovely girl, and did not know much about her sisters.

It was arranged, that she should ask the young ladies, on the following day, to accompany her to the remarkable ruin of C, and she should make a party of the officers to attend also.

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They surely cannot refuse being introduced to your friend," she said to Maberly; "and I may recommend him to their notice and pity."

Maberly mentioned the scheme to Arnold, who agreed that it was a magnificent one, and determined on being most agreeable next day. He felt joyous and hopeful again, and looked almost as handsome as ever when the morrow came; and a brilliant sunshiny day it was, with small fleecy clouds sailing over the deep blue sky, and a pleasant breeze that relieved the influence of the July sun.

For more than two months had Arnold lingered in C, much of which time had been spent in vain hopes of becoming introduced to Miss Caroline Sydenham, and now, when a prospect opened before him of having his wishes gratified, it was not surprising that he felt supremely happy. Yet, a horrible dread crossed his mind, occasionally, that she might not accept Mrs. Devenish's proposal of accompanying her to the ruin; that even if her sister came, she might not. These doubts and fears banished some peace from his mind, and his heart did not beat quite regularly yet, though he was dressing with peculiar care for the hour appointed by Mrs. Devenish. He had already set aside two different scarfs, and was adjusting the tie of a third, when Maberly sprung in to say, that Mrs. Devenish and two Miss Sydenhams were coming down Mary-street.

"Two Miss Sydenhams!" repeated Arnold, frowning slightly, as he thrust his arm into the sleeve of his paletot; "why the deuce didn't they all come? What are they like?"

"Oh, like a confusion of gaudy ribbons and frippery, and uncommonly small," replied Maberly.

Arnold was in too good humour tɔ

be angry with his friend's impertinence, and after adjusting his hat with due precision, hastily sallied forth, anxious that he and Maberly might be sauntering, as if accidentally, about the ruin, when Mrs. Devenish and her party should come up. They strolled along, making sundry evolutions with their canes, from the barracks down the main street, and on towards the wilder parts of the town which led to the ruin, and had already reached the summit of the remarkable eminence on which it stood, when Captain and Mrs. Devenish, accompanied by Major Wingfield and Elrington, and the two younger Miss Sydenhams, appeared slowly ascending the rocky height. Arnold began to feel frightfully confused, and half wished himself at the barracks again. Maberly suggested the propriety of going to meet Mrs. Devenish, but his friend implored him to do no such thing, and they maintained their position on the summit till the party arrived near them.

They exchanged the usual salutatations, and then Mrs. Devenish, turning to her companions, said—

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Young ladies, permit me to introduce to you my friends, Mr. Hall and Mr. Maberly."

Arnold scarcely knew what he was about, but he instinctively raised his hat, without looking at either of the girls; and Maberly was nearly as confused from amusement, yet he had sufficient coolness to observe, that the young ladies were extremely pretty. The elder Miss Sydenham looked a little paler than usual; yet it might have been observed, that her colour changed very faintly, as she returned Arnold's slight salutation with downcast eyes. She appeared somewhat confused, and yet, her embarrassment did not seem to be the result of illbreeding, or mauvaise honte, for she endeavoured to overcome it with a charming grace, while her sister gazed around her with the same distrait air as nearly always characterised her. She did not seem to think it necessary, that either of the gentlemen just introduced should consider it worth while to address herself; and as Maberly was a good deal amused at the utter indifference she manifested to any attention being paid her, perhaps it was through a spirit of contradiction that he commenced a conversation with her, while Arnold, taking courage from his

example, addressed a few words to Caroline. His own embarrassment gave way considerably as he perceived that she scarcely ever raised her eyes to look at him, and answered his remarks about C, and whether the ruin of the old Cathedral was not very wonderful and interesting, in a way that evinced a little abstraction of mind. She was certainly not quite at ease, and Arnold fancied, more than once, that the embarrassment of her manner was, in some way, connected with himself. And so it was.

He augured well from it, and his spirits rose to an amazing point at the idea that he was now making, or had before made, some impression on her. She rarely permitted him to catch the brilliancy of her wondrous eyes; but he had a good view of the long dark lashes that shaded them, and of the finely pencilled brows, that were only just sufficiently arched for beauty, so as not to destroy the intellectual expression of her face; and he was contented enough to talk himself, even though she might only answer his observations by a few words, or a pleasant laugh. Perhaps, like most men, he thought the less a woman talked the better; and did not object to monopolising all the conversation with ladies to himself. At all events he was very well pleased; and, as the party entered the interior of the ruin, he felt much delight in pointing out to her different styles of architecture, which could still be detected in it, and in accompanying her up the long winding stairs that appeared to have led formerly to an abbey or castle attached to the cathedral. There was also a remarkable round tower, with two small apertures at the top, through which a dim light fell with a very peculiar effect, and which could only be viewed by leaning forward over a fearful chasm; and Arnold was anxious that Caroline might see it, as by doing so she would be under the necessity of securing herself from falling beneath by taking hold of his hand. The young lady apparently was by no means cowardly or prudish, and she surrendered her hand to him without hesitation, in a way that jarred slightly on Arnold. He would have preferred more charming embarrassment, but was still very well satisfied to hold for a little while the small fairy fingers that lay as cool and motionless as a tiny

piece of marble in his keeping. She declared the view up the tower was very curious and pretty; and then suddenly gazing down the chasm beneath said, laughingly, that a suicide could easily be committed down there without any one finding it out. This was the first observation she had as yet volunteered, and Arnold was a little surprised at the extreme brightness of her expression as she spoke. The remark, too, was an odd one for a young lady to make, and he looked at her for a moment before he replied, gaily

"And are you in search of an eligible spot for such a purpose as you think the tower suitable? You surely seem too happy, Miss Sydenham, to be under the necessity of contemplating suicide ?"

She returned the smiling look of Arnold with a glance of her large hazel eyes that half startled him.

"And do you think that any one in this life can be really happy?" she asked, laughing slightly.

"Why not exactly always; but there are some people on whom the ills of existence fall lightly. I should imagine for instance that you, Miss Sydenham, could easily bear a good burden of miseries."

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"

Yes; I laugh off wretchedness very often. It is well to be able to do So. And she gave another of her peculiar smiles that had an odd, puzzling effect on Arnold. She looked pale, too, and a little ghastly, in the light that fell through the apertures of the roofless ruin. Her embarrassment had nearly all vanished, and she began to converse with a charming grace, now and then coming out with strange ideas, that caused her companion to smile very often. He had never talked to any one like her before. Of course he thought so, as he was in love. But really and truly she was very peculiar, and he began to doubt whether he had made any impression on her at all. She reminded him of a wicked little elf that might delight in teasing him. when he would least expect it, or might vanish suddenly through the apertures of the ruin.

Either by accident or design they had long since been removed from the rest of the party. Arnold never forgot the circumstance, though his companion did not seem to take notice of it, and he endeavoured to delay joining

Mrs. Devenish as long as possible. He whiled away a good deal of time in settling his pocket telescope, which he had not forgotten to bring with him, and in pointing out to her the best places for taking views of the surrounding mountains and valleys, till at length her sister came running for her.

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Caroline, we must go home now, I think. It is almost four o'clock." Well, I suppose we must." And Caroline gave a sigh as if she were very tired or melancholy, and Arnold would have sighed, perhaps, too, if he had dared; but still he felt very happy, though he knew a temporary parting was at hand. Mrs. Devenish and the rest joined them then, and Major Wingfield rallied Arnold on the tête-atête he had been enjoying, while Maberly was a little anxious to know whether his friend had found Miss Caroline Sydenham more charming and animated than he had thought her sister, who had piqued him considerably by running away from him while he was carrying on a very edifying conversation relative to ruins and burying-grounds.

Arnold accompanied the ladies to their own door, and when they were about to part, Mrs. Devenish said, in her own peculiar, off-hand way—

"Miss Sydenham, I know your papa is always busy, and has no time for visiting; but, perhaps, you would take pity on the forlorn condition of my friend here, Mr. Hall, and permit him to call at your house now and then. He is not a sportsman, and complains bitterly of the loneliness of C-.'

She

Arnold half wished the words unsaid. He watched Caroline's countenance, and could not fail to observe the very deep blush that overspread it. collected herself, however, and quickly and gracefully replied, that she and her sisters would be happy to see Mr. Hall if he should think it worth while to visit them.

"We have not much amusement to offer, but there are some books in the house which are at your service," she added, turning to him with a bright smile. He thanked her sincerely, and she gave him a very bewitching glance, though she did not offer her hand when the final "good evening” was wished.

The ponderous hall-door of Mr. Sy. denham's house yawned slowly to admit the fairy forms of the two sisters,

who entered the large hall, as it closed on them.

"Agnes, what are we to do now?" exclaimed the elder one, in real agony, as she threw her arm round her sister's waist. "How very, very miserable we must always be !" Agnes said nothing, but two large tears fell from her eyes, and they ascended the wide staircase together.

Arnold returned to the barracks happier in his mind than he had felt for many months before. He considered the day as a triumphant one for him, and recalled all Caroline's embarrassment and blushes with much satisfacfaction. Yes, why should she have changed colour so often unless conscious of feeling more interest in him than she could conceal. There were many reasons to convince him that she was already quite in love.

"A fellow like me does not often find it very hard to win a girl's heart," he thought, getting impudent as he reflected on his success, and contemplating his face and figure for ten minutes in a looking-glass before he removed his hat. Reader, we are wrong, perhaps, in thus exposing the vanity and self-conceit of our hero; but he was really not a bad sort of young man. He was only very vain, like the generality of the unemployed, good-looking young people of both sexes.

Some days elapsed before the next Sunday came, and Arnold was a good deal disappointed in not seeing any of the Miss Sydenhams out during that time. He walked up Mary-street two or three times a day, unconscious that the eyes of several servant-maids and butlers were viewing him out of upper windows and portes cochères in the enchanted neighbourhood; and many a guess was hit upon that one of the three very pretty young ladies, incarcerated in the large sombre mansion of the resident magistrate, was the attraction in Mary-street. When Sunday came, he was still more disappointed in not seeing Miss Caroline Sydenham at church. Her younger sister was the only member of her family who appeared there; and he merely had the satisfaction of obtaining a very slight salutation from her, as she passed him on her way out, after the service was over. The next day, and the next, were equally unfortunate, and Arnold lost much of his self-conceit again, and looked quite despairing. There was a complete re

lapse to his former hopelessness. He now and then met Mr. Sydenham himself, always looking very grave, and often very careworn, but Mr. Sydenham never seemed to notice him. There was a certain air of good breeding in the appearance of the magis trate that forcibly struck Arnold; and he could not help feeling a strong interest in him, notwithstanding the bitter regret that his non-visiting propensities caused himself.

How dull and heavily the hours dragged by. It was worse than ever. August made its approach, and Arnold's spirit sank to an abyss of misery in fearing he might be ordered from C at any moment, for the south was a good deal disturbed, and detachments of regiments were moving from one place to another continually. He was not, in general, a particularly modest or bashful youth, but he did not like the idea of calling on the Miss Sydenhams, though permitted to do so, until he should meet them out somewhere again; and he looked so ill and woe-begone that he was fain to pretend he had got rheumatism, for which complaint he knew a good deal of exercise was often ordered. When a regimental surgeon was not detached at C, Doctor Reynolds was the physician who attended the barracks there; and Arnold actually shrank from his rough but good-natured inquiries as to the state of his health, which were repeated whenever he saw him latterly, till at length he admitted that rheumatic toothache kept him awake very much at night, and then he was ordered divers remedies which he never took. This was the state of things, when one fine evening Arnold, as usual, took a saunter towards the ruin of C. He had been wandering about for some time looking at the tombs and headstones that marked the graves of persons long since buried in the vicinity of the old cathedral, till, becoming a little weary, he flung himself on a rude stone among the ruins. Chance often does strange things for us; and it so happened that Arnold had placed himself exactly near a spot where two young ladies were talking together, and without being able to see them, he heard some of their conversation. For some time, however, he was too much pre-occupied and abstracted to know or care what they were saying, till one of them, whose voice he recol