Screech and the Macaw vied with each other in clamour. Never had the flowers looked so bright, the trees so green!

"How blessings brighten as they take their leave, Ellen!" said Julian, as they roamed together through the beautiful avenues of horse-chestnuts, the spiral and waxen blossoms of which rose from the dark foliage, like the ivory pagodas of a fairy city. "Why will not my father say that he approves of my sacrifice, and sanctions my accepting the appointments offered me to-morrow? I must decide, and leave you, Ellen. But, I have Love and Energy; others have made fortunes abroad; why not I? Will you wait for your unhappy exile?-say, sweet Ellen!"

"I will," whispered Ellen; and Julian clasped her to his heart.

And now they were summoned to dinner. An elegant banquet was spread in the large hall, the sun came in through the chequered panes! Sir Peter and Lady Riskwell had arrived, not in the dashing equipage of yore,

but in an humble post-chaise. The truth was out at last; Sir Peter Riskwell was a ruined man. His speculations had long been failing; and now he was undone !

Augusta was pale, sad, and silent. Her rich dress was put on without one particle of coquettish care. Wealth and station had been her gods; she had lost them, and she saw nothing worth living for now.

Mrs. Lindsay looked from Ellen, in her blooming beauty; on her widowed daughter; on Lady Riskwell; and, in fancy, on the tomb of poor Lydia St. Leger; and then her heart asked itself what had her matchmaking availed? Sir Peter was dull and crestfallen ; he had never had much but his wealth to establish him in his own opinion, or that of any other.

Grunter looked very important, and Babie and he kept up a succession of glances, nods, and signs. Ellen was so young when her sister went to India, that she had quite to make acquaintance with her; but Ellen saw

1

that she was unhappy, and Ellen was familiar with sorrow.

The dinner passed off silently enough. Mrs. Lindsay tried to talk, and failed. Gregory and Grunter conversed a little on the design of the work of the latter, "The Literature of the German Empire, and the Empire of the German Literature;" and Julian amused them by an account of Mr. Jobb, who now drove about in his chariot and pair, and had removed to Bond Street, and a villa at Hackney. He had also news of the Fitzcribbs; Corinna Fitzcribb had corrected the

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Fugitive Follies" of Lord Madrigal, and induced him to commit one of a more permanent nature. The old peer proposed to the young poetess, and was accepted. True, he was poor for a peer, but what was poverty to him was wealth to them. He was good-natured, and now the whole Fitzcribb family was staying at Madrigal Abbey, and seemed likely to stay there; for Corinna, in her prosperity, clung to the sharers of her former

sorrows; and the bride of sixteen was the idol of the bridegroom of sixty-five.

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There, Fitzcribb," said Julian, "is engaged at his ease on a work intended, Mr. Grunter, to cut out The History of Philosophy, and the Philosophy of History,' the success of which has long been his bane. There Milton revels in Paradise Regained,' and Johnson in the 'Happy Valley.' There Mrs. Fitzcribb pursues her literary labours, nurses her young 'Shakespeare,' and has received overtures of reconciliation from her family. There Sappho leaps, not like her namesake, from despair, but joy. There Swift jokes and puns; and all his jokes and puns succeed, for he is the brother-in-law of a lord. And there Benoni rides a pretty pony, and his parents see his cheek grow rosy and his eyes bright; and the Past is forgotten, or remembered only that the Present may be the more keenly enjoyed."

When Julian had exhausted the subject of the Fitzcribbs, the cloth was removed, and a dead silence ensued.

Presently Mr. Lindsay rose, and said, in a loud and solemn voice, "You are aware, my friends, that we are met here for the last time before I resign the Hall of my forefathers into the hands of its new possessors. This I do without one pang, for I know those successors to be worthy, I know they will comfort the Poor, cheer the Sorrowful, and console the Afflicted; for they have been tried themselves in the great court of Adversity, and they have stood that trial well-as I said before, I resign the Hall to them without one pang. May they live long to bless the day on which I yielded it to them! I will name them presently, and we will drink their healths. But first listen to an old man's tale; it has its moral.

"An old father had a son, an only son, and a dearly loved one; and, living with him, there were two fair girls, endowed with every grace. Between these girls he wished his only son to choose. Both seemed to love him; but he was rich and courted, and their love had not