Chesterfield's adventures has rendered necessary, any detailed rehearsal of his various claims to distinction as a man of fashion would be out of place; but enough has been said to make it conceivable that, notwithstanding his peculiarly regular habits of business, he might find himself occasionally in difficulties which threatened to dash him, by a most Satan-like descent, from the heaven of elegant indifference to the grimy depths of a spunging-house. Though not quite so witty a man as the immortal spendthrift, who not unfrequently paid the claims which called for gold by a sparkling currency of his own, as bright and almost as precious as diamonds, Sir George Meddows had great mental resources. He was plausible, yet keen: seemingly frank, while beyond sounding, false; and so boldly unscrupulous as to all ways and means which did not threaten to involve discovery, as to render him a very perfect master of elegant dishonesty. Yet, notwithstanding all the chartered privileges of an insolvent of bon ton, there are some few ticklish points in their code which, having reference only to their own mutual convenience, and being perfectly independent of any vulgar consideration for the insignificant class who furnish the clique with the necessaries of life, are adhered to and obeyed with almost superstitious reverence. Rather than infringe such and live, many a very life-loving individual has sent a brace of bullets through his brains; and rather than infringe such and die, many more of the same class have violated other claims ten thousand times more sacred, and reduced wife and children to want bread, rather than be pointed at as a defaulter in the only pecuniary engagement in which honesty has nothing to do.

It was under the peine forte et dure of a pressing claim of this kind, that Sir George Meddows had made his present visit to town. The same post which had brought him that sort of gentle hint from an honourable dun, from which neither wit nor wile can procure an escape, brought also a letter from Arthur Dalrymple, stating his intention of waiting upon him at Brighton, for the purpose of settling the business they had to transact, previous to his setting off for St. Petersburg, if it would be more convenient for Sir George to see him there than in town. Unfortunately for the gay baronet, this latter claim, though a just one, was, from circumstances which had given it considerable notoriety, almost as imperative as the former one. From the time, however, that Sir George had got rid of the importunate Mr. Cromwell, by the aid of a loan from Dalrymple, he had felt no other anxiety respecting this, as well as the other claims which his ward had against him, than what arose from the unlucky month or two by which the majority of Arthur Dalrymple preceded that of Charles Chesterfield. Concerning his power of obtaining possession of poor Charles's little fortune, he had never entertained the slightest doubt; and the satisfaction which he felt when the transaction was completed, arose chiefly from knowing that he might now be released from the bore of the foolish lad's presence. But unfortunately the four thousand pounds thus obtained, though somewhat more than was due to Dalryinple, was by no means sufficient to satisfy both that and the still more pressing claim of his purely honourable creditor; and he now sat beside the comfortlesslooking impromptu breakfast which his yawning valet spread before him, in deep rumination of the ways and means by which he might get clear of both.

So thoroughly had he already availed himself of every possible mode of raising money, that one only resource was now left him, and it certainly was not without something a little like an honest pang at his heart that he at length resolutely determined to avail himself of itfor this last resource was the fortune of Clara. Besides this passing pang at the idea of robbing her of her last shilling, he had moreover a great aversion to making the request, for he knew it could only be done effectually by making her comprehend the necessity for it. She could neither be mystified, like Charles, into a belief that the transaction was a profitable one; nor be persuaded to consider it her duty to administer to the extravagance which it was the constant object of her life to check.

Nevertheless, he was as sure of success with her, as he had before been with Charles; for he was certain that he had only to state his inability to settle with Mr. Dalrymple without her assistance in order to obtain it.

"And after all," thought he, "I have no doubt, or at least very little, that he will end by making her his wife, and then this trifle will not signify a straw. There can be no question about their liking each other, and there would be fifty times more chance of my spoiling the match by showing myself up as a ruined man, than by privately making Clara understand how greatly I want her assistance."

This train of reasoning proved so thoroughly successful, that by the time his daughter had completed her hasty toilet, and stood before him, he felt perfectly ready to eat his breakfast, and set about the parental robbery at the same time.

It

"How do, Clara dear? Mercy on me, child! London in the dead season does not seem to agree better with you than it does with me. is a horrid climate, except just when the air is fanned and revivified, as it were, by the rapid evolutions of aristocratic equipages. In sober earnest, you look exceedingly pale, and if I had not decided upon a continental trip before, I should certainly do so now, and that solely for your sake, my love."

Clara assured him that she was perfectly well, and then made some inquiries upon this new travelling plan, of which she had as yet heard nothing, and which in truth inspired her with no very pleasant anticipations.

"To tell you the truth, Clara," said her father in reply, "I rejoice that your aunt's lie-a-bed propensities will leave us tête-à-tête for a little while this morning, as I have some very important business on which to consult you. I have sent young Chesterfield off on an errand to the city on purpose, and told him to breakfast at a coffee-house, as I was going to be busy; so that I may now have the comfort of opening my heart to you, my dear girl, without interruption; and with such a daughter, this is the greatest comfort a harassed father can have."

Must it be accounted as one of the good or the evil features of Clara's fortune, that nothing which her father did or said could deceive her? Neither his lively sallies, nor his impromptu jokes, his cajoling fondness, nor his careless insouciance, could ever persuade her that he was not labouring in his incessant vocation of seeming what he was not. Any uninitiated spectator, who had witnessed the cold reception which she now gave to his offered confidence, would have classed her as a

young woman of hard, unfeeling temper, and him, good man, as one of the most unfortunate fathers in the world. Nor would such a spectator have been altogether wrong as to the latter clause, for Clara was as far as possible from being such a daughter as Sir George Meddows would have wished for. It was, unquestionably, exceedingly annoying to read pain, doubt, and distrust, in the anxious look which fixed itself on his, as he spoke.

"Confound the girl's eyes!" he murmured inwardly; "what a cursed way she has of looking in one's face."

The business a-foot, however, was not of a nature to be remitted upon any discouragement which the pale Clara's eyes could give; and getting rid of their discomfiting influence by fixing his own on his plate, he resumed:

"I am devilish sorry to tell you, my dear Clara, that I find we have been living too fast. Not but what my habits of business would have protected me of course from all inconvenience of this kind, had it not been that, in an evil hour, my goodnature and kindness of heart beguiled me into becoming security for a friend. I give you my honour, Clara, that when I did this, I believed the fellow to be as honourable a man as myself; or otherwise, for your sake, my dear child, I should have been more cautious. Never again, Clara, will I be guilty of such imprudence. You who know my habits of business must be as much astonished at it as I am myself. But we are none of us wise at all times! Be this as it may, however, it is useless, and worse than useless, to waste time and thought on what is done. The poet is right, my dear child, when he says

the past.

'Not Jove himself has power upon So no more of what I have done, let us rather concentrate all our wisdom as to the best manner of repairing it."

Here Sir George paused, and looked with an air of smiling fondness into his daughter's face, as if to give and receive consolation. But Clara said not a word, and now in her turn seemed anxious to avoid all communing with eyes, for she too fixed her glances upon her plate.

"You are aware, my love," resumed Sir George, now sighing deeply, "you are aware that Dalrymple is of age, and is now in town, expressly for the purpose of settling accounts with me. You are aware of this, are you not, dear Clara ?"

Dear Clara replied as steadily as she could, that she knew Mr. Dalrymple was of age, but not that he was in town.

"Yes, he is here-and unless something can be done amongst us to prevent it, I must submit to the eternal disgrace of telling him that I am four thousand pounds in his debt, but that I have no means of paying him."

Clara changed colour; she first blushed violently, and then became paler than before. But still she spoke not.

"What can be done? For God's sake, Clara, give me your advice. What can be done to save us all from this withering disgrace?" said her father, suddenly slapping his forehead with his hand, and looking rather desperate.

This species of melo-dramatic performance did Clara good; she saw how completely he was acting, and had she not known that he had re

ceived rents for Dalrymple, she might have even hoped that the whole history of his debt was a fable; nor was her sympathy at all increased when he rose from his chair, and seizing her hand, said in the most approved style of tragic intensity,

"Clara! My honour is in your keeping. Will you save me? Will you lend me, only for a few short weeks perhaps, the four thousand pounds required to pay this dreadful debt ?""

If the being prepared for this demand could have enabled her to receive it with composure, she would not have trembled so violently, for she had guessed most accurately what was coming, from the moment he had mentioned his wish for confidential conversation with her. To do Mrs. Longuéville justice, it must be stated, that while keeping a most strict guard over every shilling of her own property, she had not failed to point out to her niece the absolute necessity of preserving the little independence she possessed; openly avowing her fears that Sir George was involved, and very eloquently insisting upon the obvious fact, that if these fears were just, the kindest and most dutiful things his daughter could do, would be to retain the power of giving him, at least, the necessaries of life, should his imprudence ever place him in want of them. This sort of conversation, frequently repeated, had naturally in some degree prepared Clara for the present scene; and when it began, she moved herself with all the resolution of which she was mistress, in order to prevent the weakness which might tempt her to give up what she was quite convinced it was her duty to keep. But the introduction of Dalrymple's name into the business had totally overset all her reasonings, and shaken all her resolutions. A thousand feelings which she would have found it impossible to explain, made her conscious that no foregone conclusions on the subject could settle the question of yielding or not yielding as it now stood, and the very utmost efforts of her self-command could only enable her to say-“I must beg time to think, papa, before I answer you. You must, sir, allow me a little time before I can decide."

Sir George's habits of business led him to wince a little at this delay, which he not only feared might be dangerous, but knew to be inconvenient: yet after a slight word or two, indicative of his wish that the matter might be settled at once, he yielded to it with the best grace he could for there was that in Clara's look and manner which convinced him he had judged rightly in believing that the shame of this debt to Dalrymple was more than she could bear.

"Well then, be it so, my dearest child!" said he, in a tone of melancholy submissiveness. "I have done my duty. I have placed my own honour, and the honour of your name and race in your hands, and I will await your fiat with patience, however agonizing the uncertainty may be."

"The uncertainty shall not last long, father," she replied. "To-day is Wednesday-on Friday I will tell you how I have decided to act"and so they parted; Sir George leaving the house at as early an hour as he deemed it respectable to be seen in the streets, and poor Clara retreating to her little sitting-room to ruminate and chew the cud of fancies that had considerably less of sweet than bitter in them.

TIME'S CHANGES.

A TALE FROM LIFE.

By E. F. W.

I SAW a lady-'twas her hour

Of woman's triumph, beauty's power;
For she was young in life and love,
And all was bright, around, above!

Caressed by all, by all admired,
With classic elegance attired,
Mid fashion's gay and radiant train
In truth she almost seemed to reign.

No gifts a husband's love denied
To deck his fair and lovely bride;
And all proclaimed her to the view
Fortune's and Nature's favourite too.

And more-I've said that Nature smiled Upon her features sweet and mild ;— Far more she gave that better part Some beauties want; she gave—a heart!

Whene'er she sang, the list'ning crowd
Stood hushed and mute; or half aloud
Their murmured praises caught the ear,
"Was ever nightingale so clear !"

With magic touches, just and true,
Her pencil o'er the paper flew,
Gay fancy's images to trace,

In fairy forms of light and grace.

And when with pensive thought inspired,

Or glowing dreams her bosom fired,

Alike her verse's easy flow

Could thrill with joy, or melt to woe.

She read-(grave critic why that sneer ?)—

Nor Greek, nor Latin, much 1 fear; And what she wore, if tinged with blue, "The petticoat concealed from view."