Some few days after the meeting of Doctor Graham's friends at Clintown the monotony of the little circle at Fern Vale was disturbed by the arrival of a horseman with a letter for Miss Ferguson; who received into her hand one of those intricately folded missives which at once proclaim the correspondent to be of the fair sex, and proceeded to read the following epistle:

"Dearest Kate.—I'm having a few friends at Brompton on Friday week to spend the day, and of course expect to see you and your brothers of the number. I will take no excuse, you must come; and, if you can possibly manage it, I would be delighted by your prolonging your visit for a week or as long as you like. However, that I will leave to yourself. Eleanor and Mrs. Rainsfield I expect with Tom, so that you will have company on the road. We will do what we can to amuse you all day, and you need not make yourself uneasy about the journey, for I will have plenty of room in the house for you, as well as all my friends, and Mr. Smithers will provide for the accommodation of the gentlemen. You had better ride over on the Thursday, and the party will break up comfortably on the Saturday morning. Tell your brothers that part of the programme of the day's pleasures is a race, and as I know that William at least is fond of racing, he might like to join in it. The man that carries this

will be able to tell him more about it than I can, so I will leave him to gain all that information from him. With warmest love, believe me, dearest Kate, your affectionate friend, Eliza Smithers.

"Tuesday morning.

"P. S.—Write me a reply by the bearer, and mind as you value my friendship make no excuses."

The delighted girl had no intention of declining the invitation; for when did a young and joyous creature in the zenith of youthful spirits ever desire seclusion from the innocent enjoyments of life? She ran with the open letter in her hand to her brother William (who was at the time a short distance from the house giving instructions to some of his men), and cried: "See, Will, here is an invitation from Mrs. Smithers to a party at Brompton; you'll go, won't you, Will? I know you will; I'll go and write an answer to say we will accept it."

"Don't be in such a violent hurry my little Diana; give me time to read the letter," said her brother, "before you act as sponsor for me. There is no necessity, my dear, to be so impatient; I dare say the messenger will wait for a few minutes;" and then, after perusing it, he continued: "For my part I will be delighted to go, though I'll first see what John says. But, my Kitty! you should not run out in the sun with your head uncovered; you will be spoiling your beautiful complexion and getting a coup de soliel. Then your invitations to parties would be at an end; be off now and put on a hat, and we will go look for John, and get his decision on the question."

The affectionate mandate of her brother, was soon obeyed by Kate; and the two went in search of John, to submit the note to his perusal. After reading it, he expressed a disinclination to accept the invitation, excusing himself that as they had determined to shortly start for New England he had no wish to join the festivities; but to enable his brother and sister to go to Brompton, he said he would delay his departure until after their return.

Kate and William endeavoured in vain to dissuade him from this, but he was inexorable; so it was at last arranged that they should join the party without him, and Kate hastened to communicate the intelligence to her friend, while William took the opportunity of eliciting from the Brompton messenger all the information he could obtain respecting the arrangements.

The reader may conjecture the motives that actuated John Ferguson in his desire to keep aloof from Brompton. He was aware the marriage of Bob Smithers and Eleanor Rainsfield was fixed for a period not very remote; and, perceiving the object of the meet was to exhibit the young lady to the admiring gaze, and introduce her to the notice of the friends of the family as the affianced bride of Bob Smithers, he wished to avoid a meeting which, he doubted not, would be irksome to the lady and painful to himself, especially as he would be compelled to witness the triumph of his rival, who, he believed, would take a malicious pleasure in making him feel his defeat. He therefore resolved to absent himself from a society where he was calculated to experience disappointment, rather than pleasure; where for him there would be no enjoyment, except the melancholy satisfaction of gazing on the features of the one he dearly loved, but who so shortly was to be the bride of another. As his brother and sister left him he resumed the occupation at which he had been disturbed on their approach, and continued wrapt in his own gloomy meditations, until he was aroused from his reverie by the cheerful voice of Tom Rainsfield calling him by his name; when turning round he perceived his friend standing at his side.

"Why, what on earth is the matter with you, John?" said Tom, as he gazed upon the sorrowful features of the young man; "you look ill, wretchedly ill; what ails you, man?"

"Nothing," replied John. "I never felt better in my life; I am not ailing." But his looks belied his speech, for his pallid cheek bore the stamp of a mental depression, and his haggard features the evidence of sufferings other than corporeal; for, let the truth be told, the consciousness that Eleanor was lost to him for ever, preyed upon his mind; and, notwithstanding his repeated efforts to rally his drooping spirits, a melancholy gloom had settled upon his brow, there giving indication of the tumult of thought and feeling that had and still was agitating his brain.

His passion for Eleanor Rainsfield, since the fire of love had first entered his soul, had ever been the material of his dreams both by day and night; she was the star of his destiny, the cynosure to which the magnetic needle of his hopes always pointed, and to which his fondest affections continually looked for guidance. He loved her madly, and had half fancied, notwithstanding her avowment of a pre-engagement, that some fortuitous circumstance might have transpired to break off that connexion, and lead her to join her destinies with his. He believed he was not altogether an indifferent object in her eyes, and the fates, even though hitherto unpropitious, he had believed would have ultimately favoured his cause. Thus he continued, even with his heart under a prohibitory decree, to cherish the tender feeling for the lovely girl, although his calmer nature told him there was no hope. He offered up his mind a willing sacrifice to the pleasing though deadly poison, and permitted his soul to be ravished by the wild delirium of his infatuated love. He had, in fact, hoped against hope; but now, that he discovered the creature he adored was irrevocably passing from him to become the wife of another, life appeared to him a blank, and he felt no desire to prolong an existence expatriated from the society of the only one who made it dear to him. These were the feelings that had consumed the spirits of the young man between the interval of his separation from his sister and his meeting with Tom Rainsfield, and which had left such indubitable marks of distress on his countenance that his friend had not failed to detect them.

We say that John Ferguson was aware that the marriage of Bob Smithers and Eleanor was settled. This he had heard some time previously, and the tenor of Mrs. Smithers' note had confirmed it; while in his susceptive imagination he pictured to himself the whole plan, needing no better prompter than his fears. While there had been a shadow of hope, John had borne with commendable fortitude the disappointment of unrequited affection, and sustained the devastation of the consuming fire that was burning within him without the possibility of egress. But now that the barrier of his expectancy had been rudely broken down; that the circumvallation of his breastine citadel had been razed to the ground, and the delicate fabric of his heart exposed to the rough greeting of the unfriendly blast, and the piercing shafts of despair, his spirit sank under the assault, and left him crushed and almost demented.

"Why, man," said Tom, "you look the perfect picture of misery. I know, or can guess, the cause of your grief; but never mind, cheer up, old fellow! You know the old adage: 'The battle is never lost till it's won;' so do not despair. Eleanor is not married yet, and, by Jove! she won't be either; at least to Smithers; you mark my words."

"My dear fellow," said John, "do not destroy her happiness or peace of mind by attempting to separate her from her betrothed. He is her choice, and it is her pleasure to accept him; then what have I to complain of? Pray, don't frustrate her marriage with Smithers out of any regard for me; for I feel convinced any intrigue you may enter into to further such an object would be distasteful to her."

"Not at all," replied his friend; "you mistake her, John, and me too, and I may add yourself as well. Though Eleanor has given her consent to this arrangement I know her heart is not with it. Do you think I would be disappointing her, or making her miserable, by destroying a bond that would only bind her in a state of abject misery for the entire period of her life? Would I not rather be justified in rescuing her from such a condition? Of course I would. Then that is the reason I object to her marriage with Smithers; for I am certain she would never know a day's happiness from the hour of her union with him. Two natures never were more diametrically opposed to one another; the dove and the hawk might as well be allied as she to him. She all purity, virtue, and innocence; he all licentiousness, vice, and depravity, without the capacity to appreciate so priceless a gem, and I believe without one feeling of regard for her. No, by—I was going to swear; but, never mind, it cannot be, and I say it shall not be; I'll prevent it yet, for I am sworn to it."

"I fear, Tom," said John Ferguson, "you are disposed to judge too harshly of Smithers; Eleanor evidently sees something in him that she admires, or I imagine she would not accept him; so I would beg of you again to leave her to the dictates of her own feelings. Much as I should desire to be blessed by the possession of her hand, I would not attempt it by an opposition to her own inclinations."

"Well, John," replied the other, "I am really surprised to hear you talk so if you love Eleanor, as I am convinced you do. For her sake, as well as for your own, you will save her from the misery of so unnatural an alliance as this she meditates. It cannot but terminate unhappily, for I am sure Smithers' treatment of her will be on a par with his general conduct, selfish and brutal."

"Pray, don't imagine, my dear Tom," continued John Ferguson, "that I am advocating his cause out of opposition to you, or of perverseness to my own interests. I would consider it the acme of human felicity to be possessed of so inestimable a treasure as Eleanor Rainsfield; but, next to the happiness of that possession, my desire is to see her happy. Bearish as Smithers may be, and I believe is, it will be impossible for him to witness the devotion of such a gentle heart as hers without being warmed in the sunshine of her affection. He cannot but treat her with love and respect, for her nature would command them even from the breast of a savage."

"No doubt it would," said Tom, "but I believe that Bob Smithers has not got the feelings of a savage except in his barbarity. But, come John, this won't do; I can't see you perseveringly standing in your own light, and, instead of arousing yourself to exertion, indulging in melancholy reflections. You must be stimulated to work the release of that girl. Why, man, you have lost her through your own supineness. Do you think if I had loved a girl as you have Eleanor, that I would have cared about all the Bob Smithers' in the colony. I would never have ceased my importunities, until I had induced her to look favourably upon me, and condemn her other suitor. You know the saying that the constant dropping of water will wear away the stone; and if I had not worn a hole into her heart, it is a wonder; especially if my rival was such a careless wooer as Smithers; and when once I had got her to prefer me to him, Bob Smithers, or Bob anybody else, might have gone to Jericho for me. I'll bet I'd have soon choked him off; but, my dear fellow, let me see you put a bright face upon the matter, and thrust your foot through 'Bob's affair'; for I am convinced it does not require much to turn the scale in your favour even now, notwithstanding all Eleanor's scruples. The girl must be yours, so take heart."

A sickly smile was the only response Tom got from his friend for this attempt to rally him, but he continued: "Well, look here, John, if you don't exert yourself to avert what I consider a domestic calamity I shall cease to consider you my friend. I never saw one who so pertinaciously adhered to a despondency, without attempting to extricate himself, as you. William tells me you have declined the invitation to Brompton. Now, I must insist upon your going; I'll take you under my especial care, and will engage to bring about something to your advantage."

"I am extremely indebted to you for your sympathy, Tom," said his friend; "but I regret I have a pre-engagement to start for New England before that time; and I fear to delay my journey much longer as the weather threatens to break."

"Now, you know that is all nonsense," said Tom; "I am going down to town myself in a few days, and a day or two will make no more difference to you than to me. I know the object of your refusal, so that excuse won't serve. Why should you desire to avoid the Smitherses or ourselves? It is true Bob has behaved to you in a most ungentlemanly manner, but you need not notice him; the invitation comes from his brother and lady, and you may be sure he will be compelled to treat you with civility. With regard to our party, you need not be under any apprehension; Mrs. Rainsfield, Eleanor, and myself will form our cavalcade, so you may anticipate no unpleasantness by the chance of meeting my brother. While, if I judge rightly, our going ought to be an inducement to you, for of course we shall join to make one party on the road."

"I really can't go," said John.

"I'll hear of no objection," replied Tom; "you must go, unless you wish to displease all of us by your moroseness. Besides, bear in mind that your absence will give Bob Smithers an opportunity of glorying over your defeat. If it is only to oppose him I would urge you to come; and make yourself as agreeable to Eleanor as you can."

"I have already declined the invitation," said John, "and I doubt not ere this the messenger has returned with Kate's reply; so it would be unbecoming of me to go after my refusal."

"Moonshine!" exclaimed Tom. "Who would ever think of studying etiquette with our friends in the bush? Besides your apology is a difficulty easily remedied, for the man is going to stop at our place all night; so we can get your sister to write another note, and I will take it over to him, and exchange it for the one he has; we may therefore consider that arranged, and that you go."

"I will go to please you," said John; "but I can assure you I have little pleasure in the prospect."

"Well, you are a stubborn and ungrateful fellow," exclaimed Tom Rainsfield. "I have a good mind to repeat that remark to Eleanor, unless you promise me to make amends by being assiduously attentive to her, despite all frowns of another."

"I fear," replied John, "that is a difficult task; however, I'll attempt that also to please you."

"That's right, my dear fellow," cried Tom, "that's the first sensible thing I have heard you utter for some time, and inclines me to entertain some hopes of you yet. But come let us join your sister and William; we will talk over our plans, and set the young lady to work on her letter."

The two young men then sauntered quietly up to the house, and Tom Rainsfield taking the lead entered first, and addressed Kate Ferguson in his lively manner as he did so.

"I have been successful, my dear Miss Ferguson," he said, "in making a convert of John. I have overruled all his objections to join us, and he has promised to accompany our party to Brompton. So we have to beg of you to concoct another epistle for Mrs. Smithers, which I will be the bearer of to the Brompton messenger, who is to remain at our place all night."

Kate instantly sprang from her seat, and clapped her hands with delight; then running to her brother threw her arms round his neck and kissed him, gazing in his eyes as she said: "I am so delighted, dear John, that you are coming with us. You have been looking so melancholy of late that I have felt quite wretched to see you; but you will be pleased with the visit, I know you will, and happy too; will you not, John?"

"Yes, my dear," he replied, "but am I not always happy?"

"I don't know," replied the affectionate girl; "but I hardly think you are always so. Are you really happy now, John? You do not look so."

"But I am, my love," said he; "how could I be otherwise?"

"Of course not," said Tom; "I should like to know what fellow would not be happy when he had a pair of delicate little arms affectionately flung round his neck, a brace of luscious little ruby lips pouting to his, and warbling the sweet music of affection, and with two lovely eyes peering into his dull orbs. By Jove! the very thought of it ought to make him happy; and it is my firm conviction that he has been showing all this opposition just to be tempted in that way. I only wish I could induce any little charmer to try the same experiment on me. I would be incessantly wanting an application of the persuasive influence. Do you desire me to join the party, Miss Ferguson?"

"Of course, we do," replied the young lady; "we couldn't well do without you."

"Then I've determined not to go," replied Tom. "Neither Mrs. Rainsfield nor Eleanor care much about my company, so I think I'll absent myself."

This palpable hit of Tom's was rewarded by a hearty laugh from John, and a blush and an ejaculation of "you horrid man," from the damsel; who pouted her lips, and attempted to frown, while she went to her little writing-desk to pen a revised edition of her note of the morning. Her anger, however, as Tom well knew, was only assumed and of short duration, and after a few moments of attempted frigidity she said smilingly: "You are really incorrigibly rude, Mr. Rainsfield, and you may depend upon it I will tell Eleanor of your impertinence."

"My dear young lady," replied the delinquent, "that would be nothing new to her; she is already fully acquainted with my peculiarities, and would probably recommend you to try the effect of your balm."

"Why, you are getting worse than ever, you insolent fellow," cried Kate. "I'll really get angry with you, and forbid you accompanying us, which I am sure, notwithstanding your statement of indifference, would be a severe punishment. But leave me alone a few minutes pray, until I write my letter; and then I will expect you to apologize to me for your bad behaviour."

"I will be as dumb as a dormouse," exclaimed Tom, "until you have completed your task, so proceed; or, perhaps, you would like to employ me as your amanuensis. I will be happy to be of service to you."

"Then be good enough to hold your tongue," said Kate, "you are not fulfilling your promise of silence."

"No; but I am merely making a suggestion for your benefit," said Tom.

"You are positively dreadful," cried Kate; "you men, insolent fellows! are continually talking of women's tongues; but, I declare, no woman could have one that is kept so unceasingly occupied as yours, for you give it no rest; even when you are requested to do so, and when you actually make the attempt."

"You shall have no further cause to complain," said Tom; "I will be silent until you finish your letter; that is, if you do not occupy as much time as is necessary to pen a government dispatch. Ladies' specimens of chirography are proverbially voluminous, are as vague as an electioneering address, and require as much attention and time in their composition and execution, as if each individual epistle was of the greatest moment of their lives."

"Hush! for goodness sake," exclaimed Kate; "when will you stop? pray be silent for a few minutes, and then you may talk as much as you like."

The desired truce was at length obtained, and the letter written and handed to Tom for delivery.

"Now," said he, "where has William gone? we ought to have him here to discuss plans; however, I daresay, you, Miss Ferguson, John, and I, can manage. What I would propose is this; that you all come over to Strawberry Hill the night before, and start thence the first thing in the morning; for I fear that you, Miss Ferguson, will find that fifty miles will be quite far enough to ride in one day, and Brompton is very nearly that from our place."

"That proposition I should decidedly object to," said John; "it would not be consistent to intrude ourselves upon your brother. The extra distance between this and your place will be of little consequence, especially as Kate is a good horsewoman, and I am sure will think nothing of the distance."

"Very likely not," replied Tom; "but consider a young lady cannot be expected to be ready for a journey so early as you would, and to do it comfortably you should start from here at daybreak. Be reasonable now for once, John, and if you won't come yourself let William bring your sister over the day before, and leave her that night with Eleanor. You can pick her up as you pass on Thursday morning, while we will join company, and all proceed together. What do you say to that arrangement, Miss Ferguson?"

"I should like it very much," replied Kate; "but I will do whatever John wishes. If he does not desire me to stop at your house I will endeavour to ride the whole distance in the day, though I must confess it is rather a long ride."

"Of course it is," said Tom, "far too long for you, excellent equestrian though you be; and, besides, I can't see what objection John can have to your visiting us. You come as a guest to my sister-in-law; therefore, my brother's quarrel with John should in no way prevent you from sojourning with us. Waive all unpleasant feelings, John, and let your sister stop with us for that night."

"I don't wish to detain her," replied John, "out of any ill-feeling towards any member of your family; I am sure you are perfectly aware of that; but from a feeling that it would be hardly proper under the circumstances."

"There can be no impropriety in it," said Tom; "my sister-in-law would be delighted with the arrangement; in fact, she herself proposed the scheme to me this morning, when she received her invitation and heard that you were expected to go too. To settle the matter, I'll bring her over here on Thursday, and she will take Miss Ferguson back with her; for I know very well you'll not attempt to dispute the question with her. What do you say to that arrangement, Miss Ferguson?"

"Oh, I should be so happy to join Eleanor," she exclaimed, "and stop with her that night if John will let me."

"Of course, he'll let you," replied Tom; "he has no serious objection I know, but is only opposing me because you are desirous of the adoption of my scheme. He wants a little more of your lip salve, when I'll guarantee he'll be softened."

"Now, you are mocking me," said Kate; "it is cruel of you to make fun of my affection for my brother. I am almost determined not to have anything farther to say to you; you are a hard-hearted unfeeling fellow."

"Pardon me, my dear young lady," cried Tom, "I was only attempting to do faint justice to your insuperable power of fascination. One soft embrace, similar to that I witnessed a short time ago, I am sure will melt your inexorable brother, who is even worse to deal with, and requires more coaxing than any 'stern parient' I ever saw."

"I'll be softened without that this time," said John, "as it is Mrs. Rainsfield's desire that you should break your journey by starting from her house, Kate, I have no desire to oppose your own wish; you may go if you like, and William and I will join your party on Thursday morning."

The delighted girl again ran over to her brother, and sitting on his knee, with her arms encircling his neck in an amatory embrace, leant her head on his breast, and looked roguishly pleased from her dark blue eyes at Tom, who sat in perfect raptures, gazing at the lovely seraph.

"Upon my life, Miss Ferguson, you'll be the death of me," he exclaimed; "how do you imagine any mortal man can withstand such temptation? If I witness another scene like that to-day, I'll lose my senses. I must be off home, unless you wish to have the weight on your mind of being the cause of rendering me a raving maniac."

"I think you are that already, sir," replied Kate; "for you are always strange in your manner, and invariably accompany, in your addresses to me, insults in your flattery." But the kind-hearted girl, thinking, even in her playfulness, she had said something too harsh, came over and stood by Tom's chair, and continued in a sweet and kindly voice and with a smile beaming on her charming features: "But I will give you full permission during our visit to Brompton, to say as many cruel things to me as you like and I won't be angry. You may flatter me as much as you please, and I'll pledge you my word I'll not believe you. So there will be no occasion for you to take leave of your senses just at present."

"To live under the smile of your countenance," exclaimed Tom, "would be a sufficient talisman against any evil spirit; so I fear none of their machinations, and feel sufficiently armed against that demon lunacy; towards whom, since I have known you, I have always had an irresistible tendency."

"Then I should advise you," said Kate, "to instantly fly my presence."

"That, Miss Ferguson, would only have the effect of hastening an exacerbation of my malady; my only hope for relief is in a continuance of your smiles."

"Your case is certainly a most extraordinary one," said Kate; "you say your only relief is from me, and yet I am the cause of your mental subversion."

"It is not at all extraordinary, my dear young lady," said Tom; "but perfectly consistent with the doctrines of pharmacology, both allopathic and homeopathic, by the principle embodied in the doctrine of the latter, viz., 'similia similibus curantur.' If your smiles wound my heart, they are the sweetest as well as the surest remedy to heal it; and, if an exhibition of your specious favours almost drives me to distraction, the balm whose curative powers is the most effective is a permission to continue in the thraldom of your mellifluent bondage."

"Well, now, I declare you are a dreadful fellow," said Kate, "I did not give you permission to flatter me until Thursday week, but you commence now in spite of me."

"What! is he flirting again, my Kitty?" said William, as he burst into the room. "Tom, we will have to send you, like your renowned namesake, to Coventry. You will be spoiling our sister, cramming her poor little head with your love speeches. She will be thinking of nothing else but those little chubby-faced winged archers, whose destined occupation is to traverse the globe with flambeau in hand, to ignite the inflammable material of mortals' hearts. And instead of our finding substantial meals, to satisfy the cravings of our hunger, we will some day be expected to feed on the ambrosia of that little mischief-making deity. Is John superintending your flirting, my turtle doves?"

A hearty laugh was the response of Tom Rainsfield to this sally; while John replied that he had been too much amused at the farce to interrupt it. Kate, however, took a different mode of explanation. She advanced nimbly to her brother and saluted him; not in the way she had done to John, but with an inoffensive titillation on his cheek with her downy little hand; which she intended, as she said, for a slap for his impertinence. "But tell me, Will," said she, "what made you rush in in such a hurry; was it to frighten us?"

"Frighten you, my pet?" he replied. "No! I have got some fun to tell you. A few minutes ago while I was down at the stock-yard I had a letter put into my hands by young Sawyer; but as the missive is an epistolary production somewhat unique I will read it to you for your benefit. The orthography is not at all in harmony with any of the lexicographers to whom it has been my fortune at any time to refer; but in open violation of Dr. Johnson and all his colleagues. However, that is a minor curiosity, and can be digested in detail."

"Well, read us the letter," replied his auditory, "or let us look at it."

"Here it is," said William, as he commenced to read it; while we, to give the reader a better conception of the production, crave pardon for inserting it verbatim. The superscription is "Mr. Wm. Fuggishon, Esqe. Farn Vail per barer," and the contents are:

"Weddingsday, Dare Sir, Exkuse the libety i take for to rite yer but Capting Jones and me presints our comblemints and 'ave to say as how weir agoing to 'ave a partey on nixt munday and wood be glad if you'd cum as theril be golley sprey and lots of gents. be shuer and cum and also yer syster cos we shal 'ave ladeys to at hour ouse, and theril be no fears on her getting 'ome agin, cos I thinks you dosent drink so of corse you'd not git drunk I am Mr. Fuggishon sir yours truly Mrs. Capting Jones wat is to be or Mary ann Sawyer now.

"P.S.—If you now any other frends as wood like to cum, bring em."

When the laughter that had followed the reading of this epistle had somewhat subsided William said to his sister: "Now, Kitty, what do you think of that invitation? my word! but we are going to have a gay time of it up here; parties will be going the round of the country after this. Of course, you will go to the Sawyers rejoicings, Kitty, and put on your pretty, and good behaviour?"

"If I had not known you were joking, Will, I would be angry with you," exclaimed the indignant girl. "The impertinence of the horrid creatures indeed!"

"But you know, Kate, 'I dosent drink,' as the prospective Mrs. Jones affirms; consequently there is no fear of you, unless you too often drink to the health of the happy couple."

"Don't talk nonsense, Will, but tell us how this affair has come about; it is the first I have heard of a marriage in their family being contemplated?" said Kate.

"Well, my little poppet," said William, "I will impart to you all the information I have been able to glean, and which has been obtained from Mr. Reuben Sawyer, the brother of the bride, and the bearer of the note of invitation. It appears that a certain gentleman rejoicing in the name of Jones, and honoured by the prefixed title of Captain (though from whence, or in what service I know not), has by some means introduced himself to the family of Sawyer, and made a conquest of the heart of the younger female member. They are to be married at Alma on Sunday, thence to return to the hall of the bride's father, and entertain their friends on Monday. What the pecuniary arrangements are, I don't know; but I strongly suspect they are to the advantage of the soi-disant Captain, of whom, by the bye, I imagine the Sawyer family know very little. It strikes me it will turn out a sell for the girl, for I fully expect the bridegroom will be discovered to be an impostor. I am convinced he has assumed a title and garb to palm himself off on them as a gentleman, while they have snatched at the bait."

"What a dreadful man he must be then," said Kate.

"Even so, Miss Kate," said Tom; "but there are numbers of such 'dreadful men' prowling about in the colony; who appropriate and abandon as many aliases and personate as many characters as would people a small town. They have a convenient knack of falling in love with such girls as Miss Mary Ann Sawyer, to whom they give a glowing account of all their wealthy friends and genteel relations. Then before the effect dies out they propose, are accepted, recommend a speedy marriage to prevent, as they say, their relations from hearing and stopping the intended match, and induce, too frequently, not only the girl, but her friends to fall into their views; while they do not discover their error until the gay Lothario takes leg-bail upon the first symptoms of an enquiry being made after him by the victim of some previous matrimonial swindle."

"Well," said William, "I am inclined to accept the invitation for myself. I would like to witness the fun, for fun I am sure there will be; and I am authorised to invite any friends, so will make use of my carte blanche and ask you, Tom. What do you say, will you go? If you will, we will go together. I would like to see their spread, and attempts at doing the genteel thing; but, at the same time, I should like to have some one to accompany me."

"Oh, I don't mind it at all," said Tom, "I'll join you with pleasure to witness the feast. I expect it will be a rich sight, if not a rich feed. Will you make one of us, John?"

"No," replied John, "I could not endure their disgusting affectation; and I would find no pleasure in witnessing their gross fooleries. I will remain at home, and take care of Kate; she will want some one to keep her company, while you two roisterers are absent; and I am sure it will be more congenial to both of us."

"Yes, it will indeed," said Kate; "I am glad you don't think of leaving me all alone, John, and going to visit those horrid people."

"Well, we will make amends by giving you a graphic description of it when we return," said William; "and, unless I am very much mistaken, it will be of such a nature as will excite your risibility."

"Very well then," replied Kate, "I hope it will be funny; but whatever you do, Will, pray don't give any of the creatures any encouragement to come here, for I am sure I could not bear the sight of them in our house."

"Never fear, ma cher," replied William, "our little tutelary angel shall never be contaminated by the intercourse of our plebeian neighbours; who must learn to consider, notwithstanding an officer has married into their family, that they are only entitled to gaze at our bright star, and that it is too much felicity to expect permission to be graced by an admission within the circle of its rays."

"Don't talk any more nonsense, Will," replied his sister, "but be sure, if any of those people make any proposition to come here, that you will use all your endeavours to prevent them."