connection with the Clairville family he was well aware, he gave way to the impulse of befriending, to the utmost of his power, the noble and attractive boy in whose favor he was so deeply interested.

Intending, during a visit he was about to make at Oakwood, to gain all the information he could, previous to the expiration of the time which must elapse before Edwin should be conveyed to the Charterhouse, his plan was, if his inquiries proved that the interesting beings with whom he had so accidentally become acquainted, were the family of the Captain Cecil whose distresses had been so publicly discussed, he would at once make himself known to them. He was well aware that his name and station in society would give them that confidence in him, which it was apparent that they now withheld. The reserve and delicacy of feeling which he had perceived in their characters, met with too kindred a spirit in his own bosom to be lightly dealt with; and to his ardent desire of serving them was added the wish of doing so in the most effective, as well as in the least displeasing manner possible.

Herbert returned home from his consultation with Mr. Disney, with his spirits still raised, and with hopes at least sanguine for his little brother, though his own fortunes were as dark and unpromising as ever.

Mr. Disney, on reading the stranger's letter, had immediately advised the unhesitating acceptance of an offer so replete with importance to Edwin, and recommended a letter being immediately written to Captain Cecil for his sanction, urging the strong motives for his forwarding it to them. A letter was therefore instantly despatched to France.

The answer arrived without delay, and was just what Herbert wished, and Evelyn had prayed it might be. Captain Cecil was overwhelmed with surprise and gratitude. The pride which had once pervaded every feeling in his bosom, and might have prompted the rejection of a stranger's services, was now laid low. By

the holiness inculcated and set forth by the example of the good priest, his heart had been brought to religion and a more intimate knowledge of God; he could now think of his reverses with a feeling which made them an hourly and salutary lesson. What had brought him to his present lowly condition, but proud, inordinate, extravagant desires? Pride, that evil principle on which the Scriptures pronounce a curse, had been the incitement to all his efforts. No matter whether it was for riches, for rank, for influence, or for the minor advantages of refinement and respectability that his wishes had been directed, pride had been at the bottom of all. To be distinguished, to be foremost, to be more than his fathers had been, and still to push his children above himself, had been the one predominating motive of all his actions. And God-was it in displeasure ?-had gratified the proud desires of his heart. But the reproof of Heaven had now gone forth, and he prayed that it might be in mercy.

It is true he had not coveted riches to hoard, but did profusion make covetousness less a crime? It is true that with intention he had defrauded no man, but could he be certain that the murmurs of some unpaid creditor had not reached the ears of the Almighty? Was his blind excess an excuse for injustice? Although his days had been one scene of festive pleasure, no immorality, no profaneness had marked their course; but was man born to immortality in another world, to exercise no other vocation in this than that of the Sybarite or the Epicurean of the heathens? He felt not. He felt that his whole life had been one chaos of mistaken aims and ends, and his soul sickened at the review of his mis-spent years.

This as the tenor of the letter which affected the sensitive Evelyn to tears, neither did it leave the eyes of Herbert undimined; but they were not drops of sorrow, but tender rejoicings at the excellence of a father. Captain Cecil offered no surmises as to the identity of the

stranger. He said that it must indeed be the hand of a friend, that could bestow, at such a time, so great a benefit upon his poor destitute boy, and he prayed that he might prove himself worthy of such consideraion. With regard to the mention made of some benefit conferred upon himself, he said that in a profession so fraught with danger, as the one into which he had so early entered, he had been in situations where the greatest services had been rendered him; too many indeed for him to hazard any conjecture on the subject. If, indeed, it were some early comrade who was now befriending his helpless children, the discovery would add much to the happiness he had already bestowed, and he supposed a short time would solve all that there was of mystery in the affair.

Nothing now remained for Herbert and Evelyn but to prepare for the departure of Edwin to the Charter, house. The liberality of the stranger had afforded ample means for them to procure everything that was necessary to send him from home, as the son of a gentleman; and by the industry of Evelyn, every essential preparation was soon completed. Though rejoicing in his good fortune, she could not help feeling very sad when she thought how short a time he had now to remain with them; and her warm and tender nature shrunk from the idea of parting with a being she so fondly loved.

Edwin, although at first enraptured at the change which awaited him, and anticipating with childish joy the gambols with boys of his own age, so different from the stillness of the dark narrow street where he now passed so much of his time; still as the separation drew near, he felt his spirits sink. He had once or twice seen Evelyn's tears drop on the work she was completing for him; he sought to console her by telling her how hard he would study, that he might become a great and a clever man, and be of use to them hereafter. Evelyn would dry her eyes, and for his sake endea

vor to be cheerful; but as he sat in silence by her side, apparently watching the preparations she was making, if he detected an expression of sadness on her countenance, he would glide from the room, and more than once he was discovered in some solitary corner weeping bitterly.

However, all this was soon to come to an end. Ten days had elapsed of the fortnight, at the end of which they had every reason to expect some further communication from the stranger; and already every letter presented to them, every approach to their humble dwelling, caused an agitation as well to the usually imperturbable Herbert, as to the more easily excited Evelyn.

It was an interesting epoch in their lives.

They trusted the hour was about to arrive when they should know the name of the person who had so benevolently sought to serve them; and at the same time they felt the happy assurance that they were about to become acquainted with one who might prove their friend and protector, amid the clouds which had arisen to darken their young hopes, and to overshadow the bright expectations in which former prosperity had taught them. to indulge.

CHAPTER XIV.

"Her brow

Lofty like this, her lips thus delicate,

Her neck thus queenly, and the sweeping curve
Thus matchless, from the small and pearl-round ear,'.
To the o'er polished shoulder."

"I FEEL SO glad that you begin to understand me a little better, Mr. Sinclair," said Lady Florence, as leaning upon the arm of Julian, they sauntered through a sequestered and beautiful part of the Park. "It really grieved me when I first came to Oakwood, to see that you regarded me almost with an evil eye."

"Nay, Lady Florence," Julian replied in that light tone of gallantry which means nothing, and of all others was the most displeasing to his fair auditor, who felt that hesitation and anxious denial of her charge would better evince the interest which was now the sole aim of all her actions to create in his bosom. 66 Nay, Lady Florence, you must better know your own manifold perfections than to indulge in such a supposition. Could an eye look evil on such bright curls as these?" and with the easy familiarity which, scarcely known to himself, her caressing manners had encouraged in him, he touched the beautiful ringlets which a favorable zephyr had drawn from the protection of her morning capote.

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Well, then, if it was not an evil eye, it was an apathetic one," Lady Florence said almost panting; and with the prettiest aggrieved air possible, added, "do you know, Mr. Sinclair, I have been all my life such a spoilt child,--so cherished, so petted, that indifference now seems to me almost aversion, and that is not the