I saw I was no match for her in wit, so I betook myself to other ground.

"Well, good by, coz."

"So early!"

"Early?" and I began to pull on my gloves. "You'll be here to-morrow night, won't you?" said she, persuasively.

"Do you really wish it?"

"How can you doubt it?" said she, warmly. "But how! I shall interrupt a tête-à-tête with Mr. Thornton," said I, teasingly.

"Pshaw! Mr. Thornton again," said she, pettishly.

There was a moment's silence, and at its end came a low, half-suppressed sigh. I began to think I was on the right track.

"You won't grant my favor? If, now, it was to mend Mr. Thornton's glove

"It's too provoking," she burst out in her old mood; but directly added, in a pensive tone," How can you think I care so for him?"

"How can I? You do fifty things for him you wouldn't do for me."

"Cousin!"

"I ask you for the smallest favor; I take one for a sample, and you refuse: you are a very unfair cousin ;" and I took her hand.

"Why?" said she, lifting her dark eye till its gaze met mine. It thrilled me in every nerve. Why?" and her voice shook a little.

66

"Because you never do any thing I ask you to." "Indeed I do!" said she, earnestly.

"I wish I could think so," said I, pensively. We were standing by the window, and I thought her hand trembled as I spoke; but she only turned her head away with a sigh, and without speaking gazed out upon the lawn. At another time, perhaps, she would have listened to my language differently; but as I was going away, perhaps forever, it made her so pensive. Yet she did not know her own feelings. Something told her to grant my boon-it was but a trifle it seemed so foolish to hesitate; but then something whispered to her that she ought not to do it. But then it would be so reserved and uncousinly to refuse; and might I not be justly offended at her prudence? I could hear her breathe, and see her snowy bosom heave, as she held her taper finger in a puzzle to her mouth. The conflict was going on between love and reserve; and yet-poor little girl!- she knew it not.

“And you really won't come to-morrow night, without without-" she paused, and blushed; while the low, soft, half-reproachful tone in which she spoke softer than angels' softest whisper

smote me to the heart, and almost made me repent my determination. But then it was so pretty to see her look perplexed!

"Ellen," said I, as if hurt, "I am serious

you don't think I'd trifle with you— but I never before tried to test how true were the professions of those I loved-if one is thus bitterly deceived, I care not to try again;" and half letting go her hand, I turned partially away.

For a second she did not answer, but she looked on the ground. Directly a cloud came over the moon, and just as the whole room was buried in a shadow, I heard a sigh that seemed to come from the bottom of my little cousin's heart; I felt a breath like a zephyr steal across my face, andwhat's the use of denying it?-I had conquered. But a hot drop was on my face; and as I pressed her more warmly than became a cousin, a sudden revulsion of feelings came across her, the true secret of her delicacy flashed like a sunlight upon her mind, and feeling how utterly she had betrayed herself, her head fell upon my shoulder, and I heard her sob. My heart stung me,- vain, ungenerous sinner that I was, and I would have given worlds to have saved her that one moment of agony. But in another instant came the consciousness that I loved her. We spoke no word, we whispered no vow; but as I felt how pure a heart I had won, a gush of holy feeling swept across my soul, and putting my arm gently around her, I drew her to me as softly as a mother embraces her first-born babe. That moment I shall never forget. She ceased to sob, but she did not as yet look up. It might have been five minutes,

or it might have been half an hour. I could keep no measure of time. At last I said, softly, "Ellen!"

"Will you come to-morrow night?" whispered she, lifting her dark eyes timidly from my shoulder. "How can I refuse, dearest?" said I, kissing the tears from her long lashes.

"Well, what followed, Jeremy? Whiff-whiff.

"What followed? For Heaven's sake, tell us." "What?

"Yes."

Why, a Mrs. Jeremy Short, to be sure."

I SEE her now within

viewmy

ANON.

A spirit, yet a woman too!

Her household motions light and free,
And steps of virgin liberty;

A countenance in which do meet
Sweet records, promises as sweet;
A creature not too bright or good
For human nature's daily food;
For transient sorrows, simple wiles,

Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.

WORDSWORTH.

At last I know thee; and my soul,
From all thy arts set free,
Abjures the cold, consummate art
Shrined as a soul in thee,

Priestess of falsehood, deeply learned

In all heart treachery!

CAMPBELL.

SARA I. CLARKE.

Ah, many hearts have changed since we two parted,
And many grown apart as time hath sped,
Till we have almost deemed that the true-hearted
Abided only with the faithful dead.

And some we trusted with a fond believing

Have turned and stung us to the bosom's core ; And life hath seemed but as a vain deceiving From which we turn aside heartsick and sore.

MRS. C. M. CHANDLER.