as you have made this. I wish I could copy the expression of your face while you read them. I shall try. I never," he added, in a whisper, meant yet to reach Augusta's ear, "saw so sweet an expression."

Ellen's face and neck crimsoned as he spoke. She was silent, but her very silence was eloquent of pride and pleasure.

"Miss Ellen," said Grunter, "I feel proud of my pupil; that is the result of having conquered the fourth grand division of grammar, which is called prosody. Miss Annie, let emulation lead you to success. You, too, will, I trust, march boldly on to the first part of prosody, which teaches the true pronunciation of words, comprising accent, quantity, emphasis, pause, and tone; and thence to the second, which teaches the grand laws of versification."

"I hope I will," said Annie, awed.

Shall, miss," growled Grunter.

"Of course, Annie will do her best to please you, Mr. Grunter," said old Lindsay. "And what she can't do by herself, I'll help

her with; so go, Annie, and shake hands with Mr. Grunter, and tell him you're very grateful for all his kindness, as I was before you.'

"I feel as if I had discovered an dreamt of mine," said De Villeneuve, in a low, deep tone to Ellen, while the rest were engaged listening to Grunter. "To find you a poet is to find you a kindred soul-a worshipper at the same shrine-a fair helpmate in the same rich vineyard-a coheir of the same bright inheritance. I feel too surprised, too happy to trust my thoughts in words, Lend me that poem, and let me try to translate it into French. It will lose much of grace of expression, but the thoughts, like sterling ore, will retain their value.”

Ellen thanked De Villeneuve, and presented him the paper, but coldly withdrew her hand when she found he attempted, in taking the verses, to press her fingers.

"With such a mind, such poetry, such feeling, she cannot, she shall not remain indifferent to me," thought Alphonse. "What pride, what joy, to be loved by such a

woman! And by the extreme fondness with which her uncle embraced her, she is his favourite. I see she would be a parti magnifique-she shall be mine!"

Meanwhile, Mrs. Lindsay, wearied with superintending the arrangements for departure, entered, exclaiming

"Come, girls! I'm sure you ought to be much obliged to me. Here I've been wearing myself out with the packing, to leave you to enjoy the society of these amiable gentlemen. Mr. Grunter, I've put Rollin' where you can lay your hand on him directly you. get to town. Brother, your dear, wicked, spiteful, old cockatoo has given me such a bite! What a spirit the old dear has! he's been following me every where to give me another,"

At this moment a noise, between a roar and a yell, issued from Grunter. The cockatoo had sidled up, unperceived by any one, and caught Grunter's toe in his iron beak.

For some time, Grunter yelled in vain. All attempts to get the bird off only made

him cling the more. At length, with a violent kick, Grunter sent him upon Annie's shoulder. Annie screamed, for he began very gently at first to take hold of the tip of her ear, but she could feel the beak closing more tightly by degrees. Mad with terror, she beat him off upon Ellen, who came to her rescue; and the bird, angry at the noise, was about to fly at Ellen's face, when De Villeneuve seized him, incurring thereby a bite which made the blood pour from his fingers.

Every one exclaimed with horror, but Alphonse only smiled, and said, "Ce n'est rien ou plutôt c'est un bonheur que de souffrir pour

mademoiselle."

He then valiantly forced the bird into his cage, and, though his hand was really very seriously hurt, playfully bound the wound in a riband he took from Ellen's workbox.

Meanwhile, Julian had been entirely engrossed in protecting Augusta, who, in her alarm, had screamed and clung to him, and this little incident might have let a close observer into the secrets of some young hearts,

VOL. I.

G

"Oh, I will die, and nobody shall help me!" exclaimed Annie, fainting at once from jealousy and the sight of blood. Alphonse had not rushed to her rescue, but had braved every thing for Ellen. Poor Annie; her swelling heart, restrained by her tight belt, made her feel as if she were suffocated. "I will die, and no one shall help me!" she cried.

"You shall die, and no one will help you, you mean," said Grunter, as, with an ever ready penknife, a remnant of his usher days, he cut open belt, dress, and stays, and Annie, relieved, burst into tears.

The ladies crowded round her to assist and to restore, and the gentlemen departed.