of his, addressed to her. I remember one piece, in particular, which he sent about two months ago, beginning,―

'Charming nymph! with sloe-black eye,

Must I for thy beauties die ?""

"Mr. Chesterton !" exclaimed Cameron, kicking aside the Whole Duty of Man (which happened to be most irreverently lying on the ground), as he walked to the other end of the room, Arabella, the while, almost biting her poor lips through, in the agonies of a stifled laugh. "Mr. Chesterton! that frivolous humourist who makes the world his jest, and lives by being its buffoon!-he aspire to a being like Miss Bagot! Pooh! Nonsense! She could as easily listen to the suit of a mountebank. I'll not believe it, Arabella !"

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Pray, who said that Miss Bagot did listen to his suit? I merely mentioned the circumstance of his being an admirer of hers for your own satisfaction, as you seemed to be so miserable at the thought of her having nobody but friends to console her. At the same time, I do

not think Mr. Chesterton is such a light and frivolous character as you describe; though,

when he talks about love, he does make one laugh a little, his way of doing it is so whimsically original."

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Well," observed Cameron, with great composure," I think I have seen enough of Miss Bagot, even in this little time, to be convinced she will never bestow her hand upon Mr. Jeremiah Chesterton, and I am sure I have seen enough to wish her a much happier fate.”

There was a curl of his lip as he pronounced the additional title of "Jeremiah," and a scornful emphasis, as if he had suddenly recollected that Mr. Chesterton was christened Jeremiah, which amused Arabella exceedingly. At that instant, however, their conversation was interrupted by the entrance of Caroline herself, when Cameron, with a little confusion, retired; but not before he offered a few complimentary congratulations upon the increasing improvement of her health.

CHAPTER XXII.

It is the man I seek, the rest I lose
As things unworthy to be kept or noted;
Fortunes are but the outsides of true worth.
It is the mind that sets his master forth.

The "Second Maiden's Tragedy."

THE day arrived on which General Neville, pursuant to his agreement with Caroline, was to repeat his visit to the Hall, and though he had many miles to ride, his punctuality was such that, had Sir Everton's cook been endued with the same virtue, the General and the dinner would infallibly have made their appearance in the Blue Parlour together.

Aston and Cameron were much struck with the martial air and veteran figure of General Neville. He appeared to be about seventy; was tall, thin, and erect. His eye had lost

none of its fire or animation; and his features, which were bold and prominent, still retained traces of a style of manly beauty, which, when it had the elastic play of youth, must have been as formidable in gallantry as ever his valour was in battle.

During dinner, Caroline, who sat next him, exchanged frequent looks with Arabella which told of her gladness at finding herself in the presence of one in whose veins ran kindred blood. Many a time, since her father's death, when the loneliness of her condition came across her, thoughts of the home she had lost would painfully intrude themselves; for, a home she had not now, in the sense that answered to the yearnings of her heart. It was not surprising, therefore, her gentle spirit seemed to cleave instinctively to her father's brother.

Several indirect attempts (but with the ut most caution and delicacy) were made both by Cameron and Aston to elicit from the General any little circumstance that might confirm, or

destroy, the suspicion that he was the father of the lunatic they had encountered in their journey from Oxford. Nothing had resulted from these attempts, when the General himself seemed to prepare the way for satisfying their curiosity. He was observed to fix his eyes with great earnestness on Bertha (Sir Everton's younger daughter), especially on one occasion when Lady Frances called her by her name. At length he addressed her.

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Young lady," said he, abruptly, but in a gentle tone, "you remind me, both by your beauty and your name, of one who was very dear to me."

Bertha could do no less than blush at this unexpected compliment from a person of the General's years and imposing character.

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'My Bertha," he continued, looking steadfastly at her," had just your mild, blue eyes, and that dimple in the chin, and the same soft voice; but she was older than you."

Bertha blushed a deeper crimson than before; while she displayed two rows of exquisitely