ly happiness for me and for Heaven !—Oh merciful!

D

Here he sank into the deep arm-chair. He shrouded his features within the ample drapery of his robe. His whole frame was agitated by the violence of his emotion, and he sobbed aloud.

Amherst stood confounded. Even all thoughts of the interesting subject, on which he had so lately been eloquent, were banished by the astonishment that seized him. It was impossible to attribute so sudden a paroxysm to anything but madness, since nothing he had said could have given birth to it. He remained in a state of mute and distressing awe for some time. At length, Lord Eaglesholme's agitation in some degree subsided. He sat in silence for several minutes. Then slowly removing the folds of his robe, he exhibited a countenance, of which affliction had taken complete possession. His eyes were red with weeping, and his cheeks bathed in tears. Do no

"Young man," said he, in a tremulous and subdued voice, and then, as if he had felt that the expression was hardly kind enough," My dear Amherst, forgive the emotions excited by certain distressing recollections which always overcome

me.

You have on more than one occasion seen that I am not always master of myself. But I have now recovered sufficient composure to tell you-it grieves me to the heart to pronounce itthat Eliza Malcolm never can be yours!". These last words, uttered with peculiar emphasis, and in a deep and hollow tone, sank like the knell of death into Amherst's heart.

After a momentary pause, arising from the stupefaction occasioned by so calm, yet so determined a refusal, Amherst threw himself at his Lordship's feet, and grasping his hand,

"Oh, my Lord! my Lord!" he cried, with an emotion not inferior to that of Lord Eaglesholme, "Oh, blast not thus my very hopes of life with one cruel sentence ! What can I have done to forfeit that good opinion I, at least at one time, with truth, believed you entertained of me? Tell me, I implore you, what I have done to merit your displeasure, and there is no penance so terrible that I will not undergo, and deem it pleasure, if I can by it but gain your esteem, so as to induce you to unsay the dreadful sentence you have pronounced, to me worse than

death!"

He looked anxiously in Lord Eaglesholme's eyes, as if he could have read his very soul.

His Lordship slowly and calmly replied, a faint smile of kindness breaking through the tears still swelling from his eyelids

"Trust me, my dearest Amherst, the resolution I am compelled to take has no origin in any conduct of yours. Mine towards you has but ill fulfilled the impulses of my heart, if it has not uniformly borne testimony to the affection and the gratitude I have entertained, ever since that eventful night when Heaven sent you as my preserver. No my dear friend, the good opinion I so soon formed of you, and which, as you say yourself, you at first justly claimed by hereditary right, has continued to rise every day we have been together, and now stands high, on the firm basis of the personal knowledge I have enjoyed, of your good sense, of your uncommon attainments, and, above all, of the purity of your principles." Then, after some deep internal workings almost overpowering his words, "And do not I owe you more than even the sacrifice of my life could repay? Do I not owe to you the life of my Eliza? of her whom you have so well called my

daughter, since no father ever loved daughter 5 ། 'j

more?" to

His voice (sank altogether, as if quite over come by his feelings. But again recovering him self, he added, "Were there not objections→ did there not exist insuperable objections which L cannot which I dare not unfold-Heavens! how I would clasp you to my heart as the hus band of her affections, and which I still may do as the preserver of her life!" Saying so, he tenderly embraced Amherst as he knelt before him. "How would I cherish," continued he," the lovely offspring of those who are so dear to me!?? A transient gleam crossed his mind, called up by the pleasing picture he had drawn in it. "But," added he, with returning gloom, that increased as he proceeded in a firm, though hol low voice," an uncontrollable fate forbids me to indulge in such blissful, but seducing visions and I must repeat, solemnly repeat, that Eliza Malcolm never can be yours

1 Amherst "rose from his knees in frantie de spair. "Oh, my Lord! my Lord! you know not the agony you are torturing me with. You cannot, you have not the cruelty to persevere in

C

a refusal that must rob me of my life. But what is my worthless life! You love your "niece. You love Miss Malcolm with all the strength of a parent's affection. You have seen our grow ing mutual attachment, you know her heart. Ah! little do I know it, if to her the doom you seal will not be as certain as that you have passed on me. In mercy thus, on my knees, It entreat you, my Lord! crush, not two young hearts, so twined together, that their very life is as one male toda replant, boonde Ari "I see it all," said Lord Eaglesholme calmly, after a pause." I see it all now I should have opened my eyes to it then; but, forgetful of circumstances, I was lulled into a fatal apathy, or rather into a pleasing dream, from which I now awake to all this misery. I feel how deeply I have been to blame; But reproach me not, Amherst. Alas! I am sufficiently punished by those recollections to which I have just been roused. Merciful powers! added, he, after pausing and looking up to Heaven, whilst every fibre shuddered as he said it" Grant that I

may not be more severely punished in the hap