eyeshot as quickly as possible. "Let us leave before the crowd is in motion."

But Mrs. Enfield saw no reason for being in such a hurry; and Emily wanted to exchange a word or two with some of her dear friends. "Meantime," said Sophia, "do, pray, go, Mr. Lauder, and see if the coach is at the door. It is unpleasant to be kept waiting down stairs in the cold."

"Well!" muttered Lauder, as he turned to obey her," Hang me, if I don't take care, in future, how I make acquaintances at wateringplaces."

Several persons (in passing) now stopped to speak to Mrs. Enfield and the young ladies. To some of these, Alleyne was formally introduced by Sophia's mother. On seeing which, our fair frontrow acquaintances prudently retired by the opposite alley.

Mr. Lauder returned, almost out of breath. "The carriage is ready. Miss Sophia, will you permit me to-"

"Pardon me," said Alleyne, laughing. "Miss Enfield has done me the honour to accept my arm."

on.

Lauder looked unutterable things,—but moved

"You will come and see us to-morrow," said Mrs. Enfield, as she wished Alleyne good night,

“mind! no ceremony;—we shall be happy to see you at all times.”

Alleyne gracefully expressed his thanks.

"We have not a room quite so large as the Common," said Sophia, laughing, "but-"

"The coach is waiting, Miss Sophia," cried Lauder, impatiently.

"I must go. Good night."

“A thousand times, good night; and a thousand good nights! Adieu !”

The coach drove off at a slow pace. It occurred to Alleyne, that he did not know where Mr. Enfield lived. "There can be no impropriety in my following the carriage at a respectful distance," said he. “It will save me the trouble of searching in the directory to-morrow. Besides, directories are often wrong; people change their houses so frequently."

He walked slowly after the carriage, and, in a few minutes, had the pleasure of seeing Mrs. Enfield and Sophia alight. Lauder followed them into the house.

"The third house on the left," said our hero to himself; "but I will make sure of the number, as soon as the carriage has turned, to take home the other young lady. 'Tis so fine a night that I have a great mind not to go to bed;-besides, by so doing, I shall SAVE-faugh! those odious dollars and cents, how I hate them! No! so long as I

can afford to pay for one, I will have a bed. (After a few minutes the coach drove off.) Now the carriage is gone, I'll mark the house, and thenand then—and then to my hostelry."

It was past Two, however, before our hero left T- Street. His last words were, as he turned the corner-"Oh, fool! fool! with what different eyes should I be looked upon, if it were known that I had no more than three dollars in the world. N'importe! I'll call to-morrow."

CHAPTER V.

"Is Mrs. ENFIELD at home?" asked our hero of the servant, who had answered his knock, the following morning. The question was one of course, though quite unnecessary; for he had caught a glimpse of the lady at one of the upper windows, as he was approaching the house. "Is Mrs. Enfield at home?"

"No, sir."

"No!—are you sure?”

"Yes, sir,-quite sure."

Alleyne was wonderstruck. Still he thought, he might have been mistaken.

"But Sophia

within ?"

"No, sir."

66

Miss Enfield is not she

My good friend, I think you must be mistaken. Have the goodness to say that Mr. Alleyne -Mr. Charles Alleyne is here,"

The servant hesitated-but, after a short pause, withdrew. In a few seconds, he returned. The scolding he had received, up stairs, had, probably, ruffled his temper; for it was with much insolence, both of tone and manner, that he informed Charles

"The ladies were NOT AT HOME TO MR. ALLEYNE." And then, as a celebrated beau once said of a certain prince's porter, (on experiencing a similar rebuff,) "the fellow closed the outward door with a good deal of unnecessary violence!"

A gentleman, who passed Charles Alleyne in the neighborhood of State-Street, two or three times, in the course of that morning, has since told me, "that he thought he had never, in his life, seen such a happy looking person! I took him for a lover, sir, (said my friend) a lover-who had just been accepted. Though Franks,—who was with me,-thought he looked more like one who had experienced some unexpected good fortune-such as a fat legacy from some ninety-ninth cousin. He seemed to walk upon air, sir;-but upright as a dart. His cheeks flushed,-eyes bright as stars,-and a perpetual smile on his countenance. I did not exactly like that smile;his upper lip was curled a little too much. very fortunate persons, who happen at the same time to be very proud, have frequently an unlucky expression of scorn about the mouth, of which,

But