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stop in her preparations for bed, and listen. At the night before, had prevented his recognising first she was startled, from the unexpectedness her partially concealed figure; but now he evi

. of the noise; but then, aware that the servants dently did so, and Alice had trusted too much were (for once) asleep by this time, she hastily to fancied alterations rather than real; for it is refastened her dress and proceeded down stairs, not the features or complexion, so much as the to open the door herself. She has thrown a voice and smile, which leave an impression to shawl over her shoulders, which concealed her be remembered ever afterwards. figure. The knocking was repeated. Whoever She did not speak, and she was surprised at the visitor was, he seemed impatient. At length his silence; for he sat, holding his child in his the heavy bolts were partly withdrawn, when by arms, and, if replying at all to her questions, so this time a sleepy footman has sufficiently awoke vaguely as to give his hearers the idea that his to help her. "The door is open at last, and thoughts were far away:

He bad come into the Alicia prepares to remount the staircase; but a school-room himself chiefly to inform Miss Wal

. little of woman's curiosity induces her previously lace that he proposed going, almost immediately, to take a look at this unceremonious visitor. He into the country, and to ask her whether she enters, shaking the rain from his cloak and was willing to go there also; but now he seemed boots. “What! all in bed? Is Mr. or Mrs. Bryan- his child, he rose and hastily left the room; and

to have forgotten his object, for, after kissing stone at home? I thought I should more likely Alice then felt she had done foolishly to put herfind some one up here, at this hour in the morn- self in the way of meeting him, as the agitation ing, than anywhere else; but I am afraid I have which accompanied it unfitted her for her daily disturbed your dreams, my good fellow." duties. She could not read, nor instruct Lucy

There was no mistaking the voice, although in her A B C (which as yet was the extent of her an Indian sun had bronzed the face, and years acquirements), and so she sat with her on her had added grace and manliness to the form of lap, playing with her, curling her hair, and the stripling. Alicia could scarcely breathe. listening to her prattle ; and so the day passed, She leaned against the wall for support. The for they could not leave the house, thc weather now awakened servant led the way up-stairs, and

was too bad. Egan followed. He evidently did not recognize Alicia, for he looked steadily at her in passing, room; and, this time, he said":

Next morning saw Egan again in the schooland, mistaking her for a servant, begged she would get a fire lighted as soon as possible in

“You are aware, Miss Wallace, perhaps, that his room, as he had only landed a few hours ago, I should wish to have Lucy with me. Mrs.

I am about to live in the country; and of course and was dreadfully cold. She answered not, but bowed her head; and, aware that he had Bryanstone has been kind enough hitherto to mistaken her for one of the servants, felt secure take care of her for me; but as I purpose refor the present of remaining unknown to him. maining in England, I hope, for the rest of my

-shire as soon Some of the household were soon roused, and life, I should like to get into Alicia again sought her room, when she found as possible; and it is about this I have come to that Egan was likely to have all he could require speak to you—to ask youafter his long journey. He had inquired for his "I had no idea,” interrupted Alicia, “ that child, and insisted upon seeing her, asleep as she Lucy was to be removed from home; I could was, in her little cot; and Alicia now, for the not, I am afraid, remain with her if she leaves second time that night, bent over the sleeping Mrs. Bryanstone. I am sorry-very sorry-10 infant, all unconscious as it was of her fast leave her; but I cannot go into -shire," falling tears. She went to bed; but lay awake when she stopped. for the few remaining hours there wanted to the Egan rang the bell, and desired the nurse to next day. The past was too vividly before her, take Lucy away for the present. When she was and so thickly crowded with painful reminis- gone, he said : cences, that, after tossing about in a feverish and It is ridiculous in me, Alice, to pretend that excited state, she arose unrefreshed, and dressing your change of name is a disguise sufficient to Lucy herself with more than usual care, pro- prevent my recognizing you, Why do you ceeded with her to the school-room, trying to to be so entirely estranged from me as not even amuse the child until her father should send for to acknowledge me as a friend? I had intended, her, which she expected he would as soon as he from what the Bryanstones had told me, of was up.

asking you to stay with my child, to take care The morning passed very slowly, for she had of her, as you have done ; now, of course, that risen before seven, and it was now past ten, is rendered impossible—at least in the capacity when a knock at the door was soon followed by of governess. You do not answer me. If you the entrance of Egan himself. Alice curtsied will not, Alicia, I shall never have courage to to his salutation; but turned her bead, and was tell you how my faults have been their own about to leave the room, when she saw him sit punishment. I will not say that a little less down to caress Lucy, as if he had no immediate hastiness on your part might have prevented intention of leaving. Had she not had her much that has taken place in the history of our eyes on the ground when Egan requested her to two lives." stay, she would have seen how fixedly he was Alicia had over-rated her own strength, and regarding her. The darkness of the passage, now she was quite overcome ; but still she tried

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to conceal as much as possible how much she , herself, now was at a loss for words to reply to felt.

a simple question. "You may believe me, Sir Egan Dalkeith, “It wants but'yes' or 'no,' dearest; will you when I tell you that had I for å moment thought not say which ?" that your return would have subjected me to The old days seemed coming back. Old this explanation, I should not have been here. feelings were there already, and Egan strained I had expected that as your daughter's go- | Alicia to him, satisfied with no answer so well as verness, my position being so different from her silence. They sat so long together that a what it was when we knew each other before, I winter's afternoon was closing, and still they sat should have passed unnoticed by you. I had there. no intention of thus throwing myself in your Alicia was so happy in her pure love for him path; for when I first engaged myself to Mrs. that she saw not his faults. She did not think Bryanstone, I was not aware of the relationship his conduct selfish. She was too glad to believe existing betsveen yourself and Lucy. If, as you all he said; he might have said much more-his say, you did know me at once, how for a mo- lips made anything they uttered seem truth. ment could you contemplate ever asking me to It was doubtless a matter of surprise to many accompany you to the country? You might that Sir Egan Dalkeith should marry his gohave spared me all this."

verness; but the day for their wedding is now Egan answered not for the moment; he heard fixed, and I must leave them now that they her tears come pattering down on the table, like have started on the road to happiness-or what rain, as she pretended to busy herself about dis- is generally supposed to bem-although they have entangling some wool. Her back was turned perhaps a better chance of it than many who towards him. At last he said:

undertake the same journey. " Come and sit down beside me, Alice; I

On revient toujours à ses premiers amours," want to speak to you." She did as he wished.

says the proverb; though whether for" toujours" "In those days when we were engaged to one might not read “quelquefois” is another each other-you do not forget them, Alice?"

question. "Forget them?" Her sobs told a different tale. “Oh, do not," exclaimed she; “ do not rerert to that time. If you are man, you should have more pity for me."

THE MAIDEN'S INVOCATION. “You interrupt me, Alice. It is not pity I

BY ADA TREVANION. feel for you; it is a far deeper feeling. Listen 10 me, for I am going to tell you a story. The day hath smiled a mild farewell When I left for India, Alice, I was a foolish To dewy vale and flowery lea, bos-foolish in all respects but one, and that And the last line of crimson light was my love for you. I will not strive to con

Hath died along the purple sea. ceal or palliate my faults. Time and absence

There is not now a single sound did serve to cool my affection, for the time. It

Save the faint coo of some lone dove; Wanted but your presence and more matured

Then softly to my slumber come, judgment to rivet the links which bound us

Sweet visions of my absent love. together; and on my return, when, hearing of

I're laid a charmed and subtle wreath your misfortune and recent sorrow, I would have

Upon iny pillow lone and white, gone to you too gladly to offer you the only All wet with the enamoured tears home I had, you purposely left me no means of Which steal from the dark eye of night. discovering yon; and convinced me, by those I twined it in our favourite bower very measures, that you also saw that our en When twilight deepened o'er the grove; gagernent had been built upon sand.”

Then softly to my slumber come, Alicia would have spoken; but he stopped her

Sweet visions of my absent lore. mouth with his hand, that she might hear him to the end.

The damask rose, the pansy dim,

And solemn marigold are there; “The letter you wrote me--if you could have known what pleasure that hand-writing gave me,

And the wan lily lifteth up

Its moonlight-coloured chalice fair. even though on the point of marriage-as you

The spirit of repose liath breathed supposed-with my late wife! You caused that A benison those flowers above; marriage, Alicia! I never should have married Then softly to my slumber come, Emma, but for your throwing me over so en Sweet visions of my absent love. tirely; and then your letter so annoyed me, that I closed with her more from pique than any

By all my hopes, by all my fears, thing else. The years which I have been away,

By all the tears I shed by day, and the want of mutual affection in my married

Be to my sleeping eyes revealed

The form of him who's far away. life, has taught me the worth of love such as

Let me in happy dreams believo ours was. Can it ever be so again, Alice? It

He is returned, no more to rove, is for you to answer me."

And bid your sunshine herald truth, He waited for an answer; and she, who before |

Sweet visions of my absent love. had been so anxious to explain and exculpate

Ramsgate, June 14, 1851.

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SCENE J.

light, you shall have your dress again; would MR. Seepy at the breakfast-table, eats an egg, you come up and fetch it? I'm afeard it might walks impatiently up and down the room, ar.

drop to pieces if I brought it down! I shan't ranges his brutus before the glass, pulls up his be long : the wages is one-pun’-five, if you shirt-wrists, and goes through other panto

please.

[Exit Susan. mimical forms for beguiling the time, until

After an angry parting with Susan, Mrs.

Seedy calls in an eccentric female in a black silk Enter Mrs. SeedY and Mr. SEEDY's aunt, bonnet, of remarkable architecture, which piece Miss RushliGHT.

of furniture she has never been seen without in Seedy. Good morning, ladies. Fine domestic , the memory of the oldest inhabitant. Under management, Mrs. S.-eggs boiled hard enough the auspices of this respectable individual the for blackbirds again!

breakfast-table is cleared, and “the cat” begins Mrs. S. Well

, Seedy, I can't help it; Susan a marauding campaign of tremendous activity in has been told times and times.

the realms below—cats always do when such Seedy [in a voice of thunder). Dye my queer people invade the kitchen. whiskers ! hold your tongue, and ring the bell ! Enter Susan, with a boot on one hand, a brush in the other, and a quantity of black lead on her

SCENE II. face.

The Seedys and Miss Rushlight seated round All at once. Susan!

the table to discuss the vered question of the Seedy. Will you women be quiet? Now, new servant." Susan, may I beg to be informed why I am to Mrs. Seedy (spitefully]. I wonder bow Susan eat my eggs as hard as bullets ?

feels to-night! She'll soon come to her senses. Susan. Well, raly, sir, if they was bullets, Seedy. Still, my dear, the place is perhaps they could not occasion me much more ill-con- rather hard for one girl, and I think we must venience: they're always under-biled or over have a housemaid. With ten lodgers, you biled. I wish you'd take 'em in a state of nalur' know-and lodgers always make so many -suck 'em out of the shells !

knives and boots-suppose we have a houseAll at once. Susan !

maid: Mrs. Seedy. An impudent thing!

Mrs. Seedy (pathetically to Miss R.] Oh ! Miss Rushlight. Impertinent creature! never! Now, dear aunt,'havn't I begged and

Seedy (savagely). Will you women hold your prayed on my very knees for a second pair of tongues? I declare Niagara's nothing to you hands ? and he never would listen. [To Seedy), two, when once--but never mind. Now, Susan, No, Charles, not two female servants : Susan why do you persist in boiling these eggs so used to quarrel enough by herself; two would hard ?

be the death of me! Let me have a little page. Susan. Please, sir, when I'm cleaning the Seedy. A little ragabond !- a little wretch! to door-steps, I can't take saucepans off the kitchen be fed and pampered just to jump over the fire. Seedy. Then why don't you stay down and No, no. Tell the tradesmen you want a maid

posts and play at chuckfarthing in the streets. watch the eggs?

of all-work, and we'll look out for some coun: Susan. 'Cos missis says it wastes time; be- try orphan (wages, some old clothes) for a housesides, she told me always to be cleaning the maid. doorstep while you was at breakfast, 'cos then Mrs. Seedy. Never, again, Seedy, will I tell she knows what I'm doing; and remarks have the tradespeople I want a servant. The grocer been made about the baker; and so, as things actually made a face at his shopman when! is coming to a point, 1 give all three of you mentioned it to him this morning; and the warning!

butcher behaved most shamefully, and said he'd All. Susan!

decline looking out-those who had lived with Mrs. S. You nasty, ungrateful thing! when 1 me gave such a bad account of the place. have acted like a mother to you! Oh, Susan! Miss R. And of your temper, dear.

Miss R. And only yesterday I gave you a Mrs. Seedy [colouring). Yes, and of my tem. dress of

my
own !

per. Let us advertise, Secdy.
Seedy. Will you women-but it's useless to Seedy. Oh, advertising costs money.
talk. Well, Susan, leave if

you
like : you do

Mrs. Seedy. Never mind, we will make ber not altogether suit us.

pay for all she breaks, and save it that way. Susan. And you're very far from altogether Here's a pen and ink--now Mr. Seedy, suiting me. I'll go directly-minute. Would Seedy. Well, how shall I begin (writes] you wish to search my boxes, mum? Though “Wanted, in a respectable family, where one or it's almost unnecessary to ask, for there's not two boarders are received, as maid of all-work. much to steal in this dismal hole. Miss Rush

Mrs. Seedy [dictates]."Must be clean and

neat in her person and work. As a housemaid Mrs. Seedy. I don't allow curls ! is kept, no beer will be allowed.

Candidate. Not on holidays? Seedy, [interrupting). What, on earth, has Mrs. Seedy. I give no holidays. Can you unthat to do with the girl's beer?

dertake all that is mentioned in my advertiseMrs. Seedy. Why you know its dearer to keep ment? two, so they can't expect so many luxuries : but Candidate. Yes, mum. I an't no friends to go on. [Dictates.] " Must not be addicted to speak of at all: I can't abear the pelisse : I don't letter scribbling, and have no followers, male or like beer : I'm a member of the Church of Eng. female. Cousins in the police force a decided land, and objection. A young woman without any acquaint- Mrs. Seedy. Are you an early riser ? ances in London preferred. She must be an Candidate. Particklar. Jf any convenience to early riser, and always speak the truth. She the family, would never go to-bed at all. Early must be a member of the Church of England; rising is my 'abit ; I got it by sleeping in a must understand bright grates, cleaning lamps scissors bedstead, which would double up with and kid gloves, and must not object to make me in my first sleep, and then I never cared to herself generally useful. To such a young per have any more. Oh, I'm a early riser ! son, £12 a-year (BESIDES SUGAR!) will be

Mrs. Seedy. You'll do: you're a jewel! new given. Apply to C. D.,” &c.

Miss R.

} Miss R. You have not said " washing done at do come directly; we'll both be mothers to you! home," love.

Mrs Seedy. Oh no; she'll find that out soon enough.

AN INCENTIVE.

BY CHARLES H. HITCHINGS.

“ The night cometh, when no man can work.”

Youth's morning light shines clear and bright

Within those eyes of thine;
Yet, lady fair, good time beware,

Not always thus 'twill shine :
Bind fast the chain ere beauty wane-

Ere yet, that light Joparted,
On yonder stone thou sit’st alone,
Bereft and broken-hearted;

For the night, the night cometh !

on.

SCENE III.
Mrs. SREDY and her aunt having had innu-

merable visits in answer to their advertisement,
have not yet found a candidate to suit the
place, whom the place will suit. One stands
out for a monthly visit from her mother ; ano-
ther for permission to be visited by a young
mun “which keeps company with her,and so
on through a long list. At last a raw-boned
individual, of whose disposition you can
scarcely judge from her physiognomy, the
knave and the fool being so nicely balanced
therein, makes her appearance; and after the
orthodox bend of the knees-known to the
lower classes as a "curtcheywhich resem-
bles the forced movement of a Dutch doll, very
stif at the jointsthe conversation thus goes
Mrs. Seedy. Your name?
Candidate. Caroline Tibbs.
Miss R. We can never call you Caroline !
The idea of calling a servant by such a grand
name as that!

Candidate. If I am to be called out of my name, perhaps it would be considered in the wages?

Mrs. Seedy. Oh, don't expect any names we choose to call you will be considered in the wages : for £12 a-year (and sugar !) you ought to be glad to be called names that are not your own! Miss R. Can

you

dress hair? Candidate [dubiously). I think I could bake a 'are, but as for roasting and jugging, I think not,

Mrs. Seedy. Oh, aunt, of course, she can't do that. It's perfectly unreasonable of you !

Miss R.'Very well, Mrs. Seedy: I see no harm in putting a question. I thought, if we went out, she miglit do our hairs, and save us the

Candidate [interrupting]. Oh, I can't do hair, mum! leastwise, only my own, which curls beautiful done round á tobacco-pipe !

O kindly looks, Love's golden books

Of sweet and pleasant fancies !
Part, while ye may, your wealth away

In soft and tender glances :
Use gentle thrift, for 'Time Aics swift,

And mocks us with his fleetness;
Nor spares the earth for manhood's worth,
Love's strength, or woman's sweetness.

For the night, the night cometh!

0, seldom hcard, thou Christian word,

Uniting souls that sever !
Use while ye may your gentle sway,

Ere yet 'tis past for ever-
Ere yet the breach, too wide for speech

To close with tenderest feeling,
Of deadly pride the canker hide
That knows no human healing-

Ere the night, the night cometh!

O foes and friends, the brief time ends

Of hating and endearing ;
O friends and foes, the shadows close

That bring the night's appearing.
O ye that would be great for good,

Use now each strong endeavour,
Ere yet your day be passed away
For ever and for ever-

For the night, the night cometh!

LINES WRITTEN IN AN OLD TOWER. Nor high-born beauty, for his homeward wending,

Gaze from her casement down the wooded dell: Sublimely grand, in twilight's ghostly glimmer, No more her footstep in the lighted hall, The mountains rear their heads, that own the Midst knights and dames, shall bound to music's vine;

fall. The star of evening with a fitful shimmer Glances in silvery circles on the Rhine ;

No more from battlement the trumpet, swelling, And while the vale below grows darkly dimmer,

Shall call the knight forth to the heady fray; The last faint crimson streaks of daylight shine

The sword is dust that glittered high, repelling Upon the grey walls of the ruined tower,

The fierce attack--the banners, wliere are they? Where lone I stand, and mark the dying hour.

And where the troubadour, with harp-string welling Like ships becalmed upon a glassy ocean,

High Beauty's meed, and Chivalry's array? When wiods are dead--thie sleepy cloud-isles lie;

Young hearts beat high, with love-hope-valour,

" Flushing with liglit, like lovers with emotion,

there!

Where are they now? tlie grey walls echo "where?" Cheating the gaze with still inconstant die : The hushed breeze, heavy with night's dewy potion, Sings to the oak wood yet one lullaby ;

| All gone! their very names! and they are sleeping A dreamy sound comes creeping from the hill,

The sleep of ages in forgotten graves. Whispers the pincs--and all is doubly still.

The bat fits round and round--the adder's creeping

Within their home the lonely wallflower wares All beautifully tranquil, all reposing

Between the casement-and the wild ash weeping, In fairy softness! On the winding stream

Springs from the threshold--and the night wiud The white sail shrouds the mast in idle dozing;

raves And where the lake-like surface takes the gleam In low funereal dirge and hollow moan, The sky seems doubled-lake and sky disclosing Through the rent battlement and turret lone.

Two clouds--two evening stars--as in a dream.
The night's rich odours load the fainting air
Prom bursting buds, and vine-bloom's fragrance

The same old Rhine they loved so well is streaming

His silver course beneath their ruined halls; rare.

The same soft dying light of evening gleaming All still, sublimely still! in holy dreaming

On mountain, wood, and stream, and ivied walls; Tired Nature sinks with folded arms to rest.

The saine pale moon upon them then was beaming, The far-off city, late with full life teeming,

That now so saintly through the ivy falls Ilushed like a child upon its mother's breast;

In shivered light upon the dusty floor; And if a murmur comes, it is but seeming,

But where are they? The night wind sighs, “Yo

more"!
Or the soft dew-drops trickling from the vest
Of the green mountain - from the clustering vine,
Whose noble berry yields the far-famed wine. So man falls, and his works! Age to age calling,

Laugh in derision at his puny pride :
The still is broken. From the dreamy river, Around his footsteps mighty empires falling,
By fits and starts, a simple old-world tune

Float by, like wrecks upon Time's awful tide. Breathed from a flute blends with the sleepless Tower-temple-palace-in decay appalling, quiver

Or prostrate ruin, moulder side by side. Of the old stream, who, since the first-day noon All, all goes down, all bends before the nod That saw his waters rolling, to the Giver

Of mighty Time-save Tine's eternal God. Of his full life sings for the mighty boon

ALBERT TAYLOR. His gothic lay. And now all saintly dim Marïenklôster lends her vesper hymn.

How sad, low silent now, the hall is standing

Where trod the warrior, and the minstrel sung ;
The ivy with its sombre wreath is banding

TO MARI E.
The fretted wall where once the banner hung ;
Gone are the rafters from the broken landing ;

(A Sonnet.)
The watch-tower, by Time's mighty hand o'er-
flung,

BY MRS. CHARLES ROWLAND DICKEN. Sleeps lowly now, where never warder's horn Shall wake its echoes more, at break of morn. My love may never reach that sweet proud height,

Where thy soul, dwelling on the mountain peaks And stands the turret like a ruined dial,

Of its own pure and loftiest nature, breaks Serving to mark the slow but sure decay

Through all the clouds which dim my mortal sight Of all things here! the storm has poured its phial | And kisses heaven : of which, in sooth, it might Of wrath and rain, and yet it stands at bay.

Be deemed a portion; for each action speaks In vain! in vain! unequal all the trial

Of purest thoughts within, as on the cheeks Of strength with Time's unconquerablo sway. Blushes denote emotion brought to light. Hark! 'tis the lone owl hooting from the tower | My thoughts would sain ascend to that high place Where chimed the lute from Beauty's latticed bower. Whence thou beholdest earth; but they grow am

At their own boldness, and they leave behind No more-no more, when day is slow descending, A nameless yearning, as upon the wind

These walls shall echo back the magic swell; Which they outstripped like thoughts in their No more the young knight, from his courser bending, swift race,

Look up to meet the face he loyed so well; I Lingers the sound of songs of Cherubim.

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