to live upon, though perhaps not very brilliantly, and you will both have a home with me."

Lord Lindsay's brow contracted.

"As far as I understand," he said, "you entered into this engagement, which I cannot but consider an imprudent one, when you were too young to be very certain of the nature of your own feelings. Frederick was justified in allowing you to consider it as binding, so long as there was a hope that his family property might be retained; but under the present circumstances he would be the first to feel that it would be ungenerous not to release you."

66

Papa," Ellen asked, " is it your wish too, that now Frederick is poorer than he thought himself, our engagement should be broken off?"

Lord Mordaunt's answer to this appeal was addressed to Lord Lindsay.

"I have not the heart," he said, " to make them both unhappy. While I live, should they ever want it, my house will be their home; and in case of my death, I hope to be able to make provision for their permanent comfort."

"Ellen, you hear what my father says. He is willing, in order to secure your happiness, to settle upon you more than perhaps in justice he ought;-for knowing as I do the amount of his yearly income, and how much of late years it has diminished, I imagine that any addition made to your fortune must lessen the possibility of his doing any thing more for Edward. This is a fact which requires some consideration; and if, as I suspect, you are throwing away more brilliant prospects in consequence of this early entanglement, no one could blame you should you take this opportunity of freeing yourself from it."

99

Even you,

"There is no opportunity for doing so now. Lindsay, who have thought it right to give such advice would despise me if I could break the engagement of years, for no other reason than the fear of comparative poverty-poverty which would be riches to so many. No-even if I were fickle enough to have the inclination,' (and here Ellen's voice a little faltered)" the hour for expressing it is past. All now must depend upon Frederick. Consider, Lindsay," she added with a smile, which however had no effect upon his impenetrable gravity, that Mary has just taken you for better for worse for richer for poorer.

“I have done,” he answered. "You must of course be the best judge of your own feelings. But to prevent any

false expectations on the part of Frederick Percival, it is expedient that he should be told at once, that my father can make no addition to your own fortune. I also strongly recommend that your engagement should be still kept secret; and as this recommendation, I believe, agrees with your own plans, it will probably be attended to."

When Ellen returned to the drawing-room from this conference, her looks had recovered their usual animation;-she spoke more and more naturally, and she addressed most of her conversation to Frederick; and at parting she begged him to come and see the last of them the next morning.

CHAPTER XXII.

These shrugs, these hums and ha's,
When you have said she's goodly, come between
Ere you can say she's honest.-SHAKSPEARE.

Oh happiness! our being's end and aim,
Good, pleasure, ease, content whate'er thy name:
That something still which prompts the eternal sigh,
For which we bear to live, or dare to die;
Which still so near us, yet beyond us lies,

*

O'erlooked, seem double, by the fool and wise.

Fixed to no spot is happiness sincere;

"Tis no where to be found, or everywhere.-POPE.

Ir was early the next morning when Ellen entered the drawing-room, prepared for her journey; but early as it was, Frederick Percival was there before her. He had found letters upon his return home the evening before, confirming all that Lord Lindsay had reported. Of course, as yet nothing very certain was known, as to the precise state of affairs; but he feared that his father, who had a large family dependent on him, with educations yet unfinished, and professions yet unprovided, would, when his estate should be sold, and all his embarrassments cleared off, have barely sufficient left for the maintenance of a penurious existence in a foreign land.

With the natural anxiety to blame somebody, which we all have when we unexpectedly fall into trouble, he severely blamed himself for having neglected in his father's absence to

overlook the management of the estate.

But the fact was, he

utterly neglected his private interests, while enjoying what Mr. Spry termed that life of pampered ostentatious trifling, in which our official rulers are maintained by the hardlyearned pittances of the oppressed mechanics."

Ellen would not hear of Frederick's being in fault. So long as his father had been satisfied that every thing was going on well, it was not for him to interfere. Nor indeed could he, whose mind was already so kept upon the stretch, and who hardly afforded himself the hours necessary for rest and sleep. No! he was unjust to blame himself;-she could not allow him to do that he must listen to her words and be comforted.

And he did listen-and he was comforted; and it was not wonderful-as those soft and gentle words fell upon his earsoft and gentle to all in trouble-softer and gentler to him, the companion of her childhood, the lover of her youth-that Frederick felt that he was dear to her, and could not fancy there might be one yet dearer—that he should look upon her as the chosen and devoted one who was cheerfully to share each vicissitude of life with him-who was henceforth

To borrow

Joy from his joy, and sorrow from his sorrow.*

All grew easy to him, as he explained to her his views for the future, and saw how little the rank and station of the man or the loss of riches seemed to interest Ellen. The addition to his income made by his wealthy uncle at the moment he least wanted it, he meant at once to make over to his father. That same wealthy uncle had no children, and his money was all of his own making, and therefore in his own power to dispose of as he pleased. He had never forgiven his brother for being poor, having a large family, and making it apparent to the world that he ought to do something to help him. However, since Frederick had distinguished himself, he seemed much inclined to feel pride in the relationship; and if Frederick should eventually work his way to wealth and high station-(official men generally find it easier to attain the last than the first)-there was reason to expect, judging from the usual routine of events in life, that his uncle would immediately take the opportunity to die, in order to leave him his whole fortune.

In the meanwhile, he did not despair of inducing him to do

something, in order to facilitate his marriage with Ellen. The Mordaunt connection was a high one; and his uncle was the sort of a man to like high connection. In short, as taking the most gloomy view of the case, actual poverty did not stare them in the face, Frederick Percival would not insult his constant Ellen's tried affections, by supposing that this change in his prospects could make any change in her;-so he said a great many pretty, tender things, about the blissful life they should pass together, even if they should be reduced to a small house in London for their only possession;--and Ellen responded to them with all her power, if not with all her heart. Some people in her precise situation might have allowed the thought to flit through their minds, that Lord Raymond's seat in the country was a better possession than Mr. Percival's seat in Parliament;-and certainly Frederick had chosen a hot dusty day to speak of a hot dusty lodging in London, pour tout bien. But all was alike to Ellen; wherever Frederick Percival's lot was cast, there must the affections of Frederick Percival's wife be centered.

TT

The conversation now met with an unexpected interruption. The door flew open, and Mrs. Howard and Harriet Rivers entered the room. It was the luckiest thing in the worldMr. Howard was horribly late-not yet come down to breakfast-and the children were just going out-so they thought they would go with them for ten minutes to the square; and there they saw the carriage with its imperials; and so Mrs. Howard declared she would venture to run up stairs and take leave of Lady Ellen, and show her the little recovered boy she had been so kind to. And then Charlie was told that there was the good lady who had carried him home from the nasty great dog-and Charlie said, as his nurse had told him, that he loved the good lady and hated the nasty great dogand Ellen kissed the child in admiration of the beauty of the sentiment-and Mrs. Howard went on in her bright, sparkling way, congratulating herself and every body else on their good fortune, in having caught the last glimpse of each other.

Frederick stood aloof, following up in his mind the train of ideas to which his conversation with Ellen was leading him, and which Mrs. Howard's entrance prevented him from uttering aloud. He was perfectly guiltless of listening to one word she said; he only felt that there was a living interruption in the room, and wished that it could any how be got rid of.

As to Miss Rivers, it seemed wonderful why she had taken the trouble to come. Mrs. Howard was determined to be

Ellen's friend, whether she liked it or not; so Ellen could only submit, and wish that she would let her alone. But she had always an instinctive feeling that Harriet Rivers's attempts at expressing cordiality towards her were forced; and now she had relapsed into her most repulsive manner. Constrained and silent, there she stood; her perfect features seemed capable of no expression but that of cold indifference. Yet her eyes were fixed upon an object lying on the table, which must have awakened interest of some kind in her mind. It was a miniature of Edward-his parting present to Ellen when he first quitted home to join his regiment; and, though the features were more boyish than his, it was an animated speaking likeness.

"You must recognise an acquaintance there," Ellen said. "It was the very image of Edward when it was painted, and I was such a child when he gave it to me, the joy of possessing it almost consoled me for his absence. Since then I have learned to doubt whether the sight of it does not give more pain than pleasure. When I have known him to be unhappy, this bright countenance has seemed like mockery."

"Unhappy!" said Miss Rivers, quickly; "do you think your brother unhappy?"

"There have been times when I have known him to be so; and I fancied, when he left London, that something was worrying him. Perhaps you may have heard from him since I have; for of late he has rather neglected me?"

Mrs. Howard colored and looked at Harriet, who did not shrink from the task of answering for her. "You could not expect," she said, "that he should be kinder to us than to you. He has not written a word to us since he left London." A pause ensued, which Ellen employed in pondering with disgust over these evasive words. Charlie and Cecy, seeing their elders at fault, thought the time was come to make a diversion in their own favor; so Charlie seized the picture.

"That's because you're a boy; and mamma says girls are quicker than boys."

"I can't help that,” said Charlie; "and papa says I'm quick too."

"Well then, look who that's meant for. Who gave you the sword and the gun?"

"Captain Ned-I call him Captrin Ned, because he told

me."