"It's a pity, sir," said Joe to the stranger, "that this gentleman has just begun, or you might have joined company, p'r'aps

The stranger looked towards our friend Augustus, and did not seem very much disappointed at having missed the pleasure of his society. "I would rather dine alone," he said; "let me have any thing you've got.'

"I recommend their veal cutlets," interposed Mr Augustus; "they're amazing good, considering it's so far in the country this here hotel."

The stranger bowed, and repeated his order. Mr Augustus resumed his labours; and at intervals, as he could catch the attention of that most unenvied pluralist, Mr Joe, continued his enquiries about the inmates of the hall.

"I say, Joe," he began, when that functionary was placing the cheese on the stranger's table-"is this Miss Jones good-looking at all?"

"Oh, beautiful, sir," said Joe. "Oho! I smell a rat, Joe. The parson's very sweet on her, you say? Sly old rogue the parson! How old is she, Joe?"

"About seventeen or eighteen, I should think, sir; but I don't know." "Never looked in her mouth-eh?" The stranger seemed gradually to become more interested in the conversation, and almost repented he had refused the offered society of the inquisitor.

"Is this Miss Hibbert going to make a die of it, do you think?"

"Don't know, sir; but she's a tough one: it will take summat to kill she."

"Do you think Miss Jones would see a gentleman if he called on her, Joe?" "I beg your pardon," interposed the stranger; "do you speak of Miss Jones, the friend of Miss Hibbert of Willerdon Hall?"

"Yes," replied Mr Augustus. "I should like to say a few words to her. Just to hear the exact state of health the old lady is actually in. Reports are very strong that she's dying.'

"Perhaps, sir, when the waiter is gone you will let me speak to you on that subject."

"With all my heart. Bring your bottle-a half-pint, I see; 'pon my soul, I'm ashamed of this generation and we'll talk as long as ever you like. I'm fond of society."

Society, however, did not seem to be very fond of him, for there was a look about the gentleman, who now drew his chair to the table of Mr Augustus, which showed that his movement had a different object from the pleasure of making that individual's acquaintance. And, after all, Augustus was not a very captivating character at first sight. He had the lightest possible hair, and the greenest possible eyes; he was dressed in a bright green coat and flashy-coloured waistcoat, and spoke in a shrill loud voice, and altogether comported himself in a way that, by some mysterious concatenation of ideas, always called up the most vivid images of horsewhips and kickings down stairs.

"Well, sir," he said, lighting a segar with an unfailing lucifer, and taking his first whiff, "you said you would talk to me on a certain subject. Talk away."

"I heard you mention the family at Willerdon Hall. Do you know them?"

"Come, now, that's coming it a little too strong. Why, you're turning me into the witness-box, when all I bargained for was to have a social chat. Why do you wish to know?"

"Because I am deeply interested in one of those ladies."

"So am I.-Deeper than you a cussed sight, and no mistake.”

"Perhaps not in the same," said the stranger, with a smile. "I give up the old lady entirely to you.'

"Do you! Then your're a good fellow. Oho! you're after the young one, eh?"

The stranger nodded.

"Well, I don't care if I give you a helping hand. I'm up to a spree at the shortest notice. How can I assist you?"

"I heard you ask if Miss Jones was likely to see a gentleman if he called on her. I thought, perhaps you had some business at the house, and might"

"Tip her a note, or whisper an appointment? Oh Lord, I'm delighted with the fun!"

"Will you help me?"

"Tell me how to do it; for the fact is, that though I'm a mighty deal more anxious than you to get my foot inside the door, I can't hit on any plan to make good an entrance."

"I think we can manage it, if you

agree to what I propose.

Stop, let me ring the bell. Joe, bring a bottle of claret, clear the decks, and let us start with a bumper. Now, sir, fire away!"

"My great object is to get Miss Jones away from Miss Hibbert."

"Gad, my boy, so's mine; but what will you do with her when you get her away?" "Marry her."

66

Marry her! oh crikey! - I thought you was only up to a lark." Mr Augustus filled out another glass. "This looks very bad," he thought. "This here bird wouldn't think of marriage if the jade hadn't secured the old lady's tin-all the spoons at any rate-blow'd if she aint both the maid and the magpie all in one." "You seem astonished, sir; but if you knew how I am placed."

"Hard up, eh?—-uncle, and all that? Has she any pewter?"

"I don't know, and don't care, I'm

rich enough for both. I'll tell you how it is, sir, and then I'm sure you'll not hesitate to assist me."

"What, to get her away from the old varmint?-not an instant-I'll go through fire and water; but, let's hear your tale-drink, boys, drink, and drive away sorrow."

"Three years ago, she came to live at the house of my tutor, a clergyman in the north-she was then sixteen. I was three years older_we very soon became attached-our love was soon discovered."

"I've always said," interrupted Mr Augustus, "there ought certainly to be a foundling hospital in every parish -but go on."

"My tutor, who was a relationuncle he said though I know he had no brother of that name ".

"Bab, man! she was his daughter -nothing's commoner than to hide it by a different name. Why was the Fitzroys called Fitzroy, but to hide that they were children of George the Third? It's always the way."

"Well-but in this case it was different. He had scruples about allowing the engagement to go on, for he said she was poor, and my father was then alive. And when I wrote to him about it, he also opposed it. Susannah was therefore sent away."

"Ah! them Susannahs are always persecuted by the elders!" said Mr Augustus.

They never told me her place of concealment, but luckily I have now discovered it, She promised me, that if, when I was my own master, I still continued to love her, she would be my wife. I have written to her at Willerdon Hall, and my letters have been all returned unopened."

"You can't have paid the postage. Old Miss Hibbert never opens an unpaid letter."

"I am afraid it arises from something worse. I hear Miss Hibbert is a very crabbed, ill-tempered, old woman; she perhaps tyrannizes over her."

"You may take your oath of that, unless she's quite changed from the time father knew her."

"Now, I don't like to go up to the Hall myself, till I know more about my position; but if some friend"_

"Would step up and do the needful, you would be very much obliged? but how am I to do it?"

"Why, if you would really take the trouble, I don't see what's to prevent you from going up and offering your services, now that Miss Hibbert is so ill, as a London physician sent to give your opinion by the clergyman of the parish, Mr Aylward."

"That's the old boy that Miss Jones stayed with before she came to live at the Hall? He'll find it out, to a certainty."

"Never mind. You'll be far away by that time, and will have done a particular kindness to me."

"And to myself too," said Mr Augustus. "And I'll have a touch at the old varmint's pulse in half-an-hour from this time, or I'm a Dutchman. What's your name?"

"Harry Millard, of Colme Abbey. She'll know."

"Have you got a license? I'll bring her down here directly."

"Not quite so quick as that," said Harry Millard, with a smile, "ask if I may see her for five minutes sometime this evening. I've much to say."

"I daresay you have. You're a rum one, you are; but stay you quietly here, and I'll bring or send you word as soon as I can.

What gam

mon it is"-he muttered, as he walked off to enact the part of a disciple of Esculapius-" in this Mr Millard—a tip-top sawyer, I see by the looks of him-to run his rigs on me about marriage with this here Jennie Jones.

I'll have a look at her boxes, as father advised, before I let her off the premises. If I were her next of kin,

I would prosecute for loss of services. I've known good damages in a case of the very same kind.

The twenty years that had wrought such changes on the world at large, had not been without their effect on our old friend, Miss Hibbert. At first, when she had taken up her residence at the Hall, the neighbours had all called to welcome her to the county; but, somehow or other, none of them seemed to have been so prepossessed by their reception, as ever to have repeated the visit. Susan had grown bitterer and bitterer every year, as it is the nature of bitters to do. Anxious to marry, in order to spite poor Elizabeth, when she found out at first that she had nothing more to fear from her as the annuity never being claimed, clearly proved that she had died; and the sad news was confirm ed to her by the Formans, to whom she had actually taken the trouble to apply for information; and finally, all doubt was removed by a notice of her decease in the newspapers-her anger and apprehension took a different direction, and day and night she fancied she saw the hateful visage of Mr Tyem gloating over the prospect of his succession. And when she pictured to herself the triumph of the attorney and his son, she almost wish ed she had not been quite so severe on the faults of her poor sister; for, you will observe, she had impressed herself so vividly with the belief that Elizabeth had treated her very ill, that even remorse did not altogether discover the truth to her in all its extent; but instead of the unvarying clamour she used to make, to all who came within speaking distance, of the great provocations she had received from Elizabeth, and the angelic way she had borne them for many years, till at last they had become really intolerable she was now sometimes quite pathetic after her fashion, which bore a great outward resemblance to rage and bitterness, on the early death of the poor persecuted girl, and wished she had lived to inherit the estate. Grief, even in this modified degree, had a softening effect on her disposition; and, by way of proving to the world at large that she possessed

every virtue fit for a lady and a Christian to possess, she became ferociously charitable, and subscribed two guineas a-year to a clothing society, and forced flannel jackets and double drawers of her own making on all the brawny poachers and labourers of the parish, in the middle of July. She made herself also president of a soup and scrap society, and paid inquisitorial visits to the larder of every cottager in the village; counted the number of potatoes they had boiling in the pot, and, in fact, made herself so prodigiously Samaritan, that it was quite a pleasure to see her. Good Dr Âylward tried to moderate the transports of her zeal, but she was not to be restrained. She thought he was a hardhearted, uncharitable man, to talk of discretion in such a cause, and despised his doctrine as cold and moral; and if it had not been that the doctor was a man of high family, and universally liked in his parish, and that it would not have been "genteel" to leave him, she would have attended the Reverend Snuffle Sybby, the owner of a chapel in the neighbouring parish, who had gone through the whole gamut of religious belief— from the depths of ranting Calvinism up to the very highest notes of Pharisaism and assurance; and was at that time popular, from the force of sympathy, with all the vain and shallow-witted old maids in the vicinity. But she contented herself with looking down on her own religious instructor, and feeling that she was a great deal better than he was: a pleasing frame of mind which she enjoyed every Sunday, or indeed, every day in the week; for it occurred to her whenever she thought of her own prodigious advances in holiness and virtue. She became quite a model of the manner in which an angel would probably live, if it by any chance came to reside for a season on earth; and as even a heart such as that of the devout Susan, could hardly exist without something to like or care for, she made a display, to all who came near her, of the tenderness of

her disposition, by being a great friend to the lower animals, and particularly partial to cats. It showed such a warmth of affection and gentleness of mind, that people were amazed that those amiable sentiments limited themselves so strictly to her intercourse with the four-footed creation. I have no doubt half the village of Willerdon wished they were cats; but even this state of sympathy with any living thing, was doomed to have an end. Her notions of moral virtue became so prodigiously strict, and her modesty grew so amazingly tender, that she became scandalized at certain accessions to the number of her favourites; even on the part of staid, sensible-looking old tabbies, from whom she expected better things; and when at last she perceived that her great old grey, the most steady and demure of mousers, gave symptoms that she also was about to be a "mother and no wife," she lost patience with the whole race, and expected some fearful judgment on her and her house, if she did not at once wash her hands of such a perverse generation. The cats were accordingly drummed out with every mark of disdain and abhorrence, and the mansion of Miss Hibbert became again a residence fit for Diana.

Now it happened that the good Dr Aylward, seeing the loveliness of his heavenly-minded parishioner, took a strange fancy into his head, that the best way to turn her thoughts into a happier channel, and soften the asperities of her temper, was to show her, in the person of a sort of protegée of his, the Miss Jones we have heard so much about, how sweet and amiable a person may be, without pluming herself on those qualities at all; and he accordingly proposed to Miss Hibbert, to receive his young friend for a month or two into her house. Whether his intention in this was really to be of use to Susan, or to hide the beautiful Susannah from the pursuit of Harry Millard, I am sorry to say he failed in both objects. Harry Millard, we have seen, discovered her hiding-place, and Susan continued as bitter and self-satisfied as before. Yet there was something in the gentle looks of her new companion, that had a sedative effect on her disposition. Involuntarily, as it were, she softened beneath the smiles and unfailing good

YOL. LI. NO. cccxv.

temper of Susannah, as ice melts beneath the sun; and though still as captious as ever in tone and manner, it is an undeniable fact, that the ill-temper was not nearly so deep-seated as before; and that occasionally, far down in the hard dry places of her heart, there welled out the smallest possible trickling of what might be called, without much exaggeration, the milk of human kindness; very skim, no doubt, but still a hundred-fold better than no milk at all. Nay, her conduct to Susannah, though harsh enough in itself, was by comparison kind and considerate. She did not remind her of her poverty more than three times a-day, or find fault with Dr Aylward for pensioning her on her bounty more than once a-week; and, in short, conducted herself in as friendly a way as her nature would permit. Month after month passed on, and no hint of Susannah going back to the parsonage; and it began to be verily believed, that if such a thing had been proposed, Miss Hibbert would have objected to it with all her might, more especially as her health had now very much failed, and she had become used to the mild attentions of the good-hearted Susannah. But all the attentions of the best and prettiest of nurses, cannot put off the inevitable day. Susan grew worse and worse; the village apothecary, after bleeding her, had hinted obscurely at getting further advice the thought of the expense of which, would have more than counterbalanced the advantage of the additional skill. But if, at the same time, the benefit could be procured without the expense

Just as vague ideas of that kind were wandering through her brain, a message was given to Miss Jones, that a medical gentleman wished to see her.

"What can the man want?-I wonder those doctors can't let me alone" -said Susan in the same charming tone; you would have sworn from the voice, that she was unchanged from what she was twenty years before. "Tell him to go about his business, Susannah-turn him away, I tell you -I will not be imposed on."

Susannah left the room, to give the unexpected practitioner his dismissal.

"How do, Miss?" said the elegant Mr Augustus. "I'm sent here quite

F

in a friendly way, to see if I can do any thing for Miss Hibbert. She's kicking, I hear, poor old gal-D'ye think she'll go soon?" "Sir?"

"Oh, bless me!-Yes-I forgot you're Miss Jones, I feel certain, from the description. Better be down at the main-gate this evening, my dear, at eight o'clock-you'll hear good news of Harry Millard-poor Harry -a jolly dog-you'll see him, perhaps, who knows?"

Saying which, and totally disregarding the effects of his abrupt communication, he put his finger to his nose, and winked in the most gentlemanly way in the world. Chesterfield would have been delighted to see him, and so would Sir Charles Grandison.

"I'm a doctor, my dear, sent here to do what I can for Miss Hibbert. Old Parson Aylward told me to come."

"You are sent here, sir, by Dr Aylward?"

"Didn't I tell you so?- Come, where's the old gal?-I can't wait here all day. Don't forget the main gate at eight o'clock.-Poor Harry will die if you disappoint him.-Take me to Miss Hibbert."

"If Dr Aylward recommended you."

"Ah! that's a good gal-go onI'll follow”—and half driving Susannah before him, he forced his way up stairs, and the poor girl, terrified and agitated, had hardly time to announce him as sent by the kind Dr Aylward, before he burst into the room where our poor friend was sitting up in bed, propped up by pillows, and looking as if she had lunched on thunderbolts, and they hadn't agreed with her."

"What do you want, sir?-who told you to come here, sir?-go back -not a shilling shall you get from me. I won't be imposed on."

"Nobody wants to impose on you, a I can see," replied Augustus, half frightened at the vehemence of her indignation." I only dropt in to see if they were treating you well, that's all."

"They're treating me very ill, sir; you're treating me very ill, sir; I've been ill-treated all my life, sir."

"So you're used to it, like the eels, eh!-you take?"

"Take what, sir? I wish you would get out of the house-you had

no right to come here at all, without being sent for. I shan't pay; mark my words-I won't be imposed on."

"I don't want any pay. Let's have a hold at your pulse; too quick a great deal. You're in a bad way-'pon my soul-and nobody to attend you,that young woman has affairs of her own to attend to." "Who?"

“Miss Jones—a lover, or something of that kind. She's to meet him, when it's dark, at the gate.-You take?"

"Oh, la!" sighed Miss Susan, horror-struck at the idea, "this is worse than the cats! I'll turn her out of my house directly."

"You had better. I advise it." "And what right have you to advise, sir? Who asked you for your advice? I didn't."

"You'll take it, though. And by George, ma'am, if I were in your place, I'd not leave her a sixpence in my will. You haven't left her any legacy, have you?"

"I'll tell you what it is, sir," said Susan, sitting up by a great effort, "I believe you're sent here to kill me by that carnal-minded, moral preacher, Dr Aylward. And if you want to murder me outright, you'll go on with your insolent questions; but I'll hold you answerable for the consequences; and if I die, I trust in a bountiful providence you'll be hanged.-Go away, sir."

"Can't indeed, ma'am; professional avocations must be attended to. I think you're as ill as need be already, and I advise you to do as I tell you, just to ease your mind. If you've signed any will or other document, it's quite easy to cancel it. I can draw you a form in a minute."

"Young man," cried Miss Susan, looking at him very hard, "you're not a doctor-your voice puts me in mind of some disgusting being I have seen somewhere or other-your face, too, ha! horrid!-you're that nasty little wretch, young Tyem!" She fell back on making this appalling discovery, and seemed so completely bereft of strength, that Mr Augustus thought it time to retire.

"I'll write to father this very night," he thought, as he slipt down stairs. "This old gal will be off the hooks in a few hours-and then good-by to the Poultry. I think I've settled the hash of Miss Jones, anyhow. There must be thousands hid away in old