Sandford smiled, and observed, "Not quite yet; but will be, I trust:" and Mr. Hastings, having gathered strength, said, "How can I ever thank these friends enough? Bertha must do it for me."

He then asked her if she had seen her old friend, (meaning me), adding, "He has been very good in coming so far for our sakes, and did not, I see, abandon me under this last visitation. You must thank him for me."

The frank girl immediately stretched out her hand, and said, in her sweetest accents, "O! I do indeed thank Mr. De Clifford for more than this-his kindness to

But here a faltering voice, and tears, which indeed had never been thoroughly suppressed amid all her joy at having recovered her father, prevented further utterance. Words, however, were not necessary to create in me a bliss I had not for a long time known, not merely because I was allowed to press her offered hand, in token of the thanks which her father himself, to my surprise, quite as much as my pleasure, had commissioned her to express. What joy was in that

moment!

But now, Mr. Sandford resuming the command, advised the patient's retiring to bed. "It is repose," said he, "after most sad agitation, that he chiefly wants, and if he can get sleep, to which I would add any mild sustenance he may fancy, he will do very well. I will look in at midnight to see that every thing is right, and meantime, request of you, my excellent young lady, neither to alarm nor exhaust your

self in watching. The paroxysm over, I have no fears for his bodily health. For mental comfort (the best of all), I can only recommend you to a higher Power."

Mr. Hastings was too weak to answer, but shewed by an inclination of his head, and a deep sigh, that he fully agreed with what Sandford had said; and Bertha, on the latter taking leave, gave him a look of mournful gratitude; and then, wishing Granville and me good night, the door closed upon what seemed to me all the interests I had in the world.

As Granville and I lodged in the same inn, we passed the evening together, and had much talk. "This sad event," said he, " mournful as it is, will perhaps eventually be better for my uncle's happiness. It was plain to me that poor Foljambe's irreclaimable violence of spirit would have ruined his father's peaceful habits of retired self-consequence. In this he had wrapt himself up for some years, and hence, seldom stirring from his domain, where he was the deity of the place, 'sole monarch of all he surveyed,' he allowed the world to pass as it listed, provided it gave him no disturbance. He lived indeed in that easy negligence which, as Johnson says of Sir Roger de Coverley, solitary grandeur naturally generates. This, however, was not wholesome as a cure for his family pride, which grew upon him the more for living alone, and being free from the rivalry of upstarts, whom he could not bear. He preferred, indeed, a man who derived from the times of the Plantagenets, though with

scarce bread to eat, to a millionaire who sprang from a South Sea bubble. Hence, I verily believe," added Granville, "his condescensions to you; so don't flatter yourself that it is your own individual merit that has obtained them. There is, however, another reason, quite as powerful, in his strong religious feeling, which, you must have observed, has actuated him throughout this severe trial."

“But how can that," asked I, interested by these observations, "influence his condescensions to me?"

"Why, see you not that his deep sense of Christian duty, always warring with his pride, perpetually fills him with remorse and humility; and when this is the case, he considers it a bounden duty to make amends twentyfold to all those whom he, or even his son, may have slighted, for what, unlike a real proud man, he considers a sin requiring punishment. That punishment he thinks has now deservedly fallen upon him by the death (made more miserable for the manner of it) of the only heir of his name, to whom, with all his faults, he was tenderly attached. He is alive to all his son's wrongs to you, the greater because of your fidelity to him; and in his sincere submission to what he feels the justice of heaven, it consoles him in his grief to make up to you the kindness in which Foljambe was so deficient. In this, and only for the same reasons, I have no doubt he is seconded by his daughter; and I tell you this to guard you from those selfflatteries which might otherwise, with all your fine resolutions, assail you."

"I thank you," said I (I am afraid, rather drily),

that our

"for this caution ; and I was not sorry retiring for the night put an end to the conversation.

When alone, I revolved with fearful interest all the incidents of this eventful day. Both the father and daughter became more than ever the objects, the one of my study, the other of my admiration. The religious resignation of Mr. Hastings, and the sweet filial piety, mixed with decision of conduct, in Bertha, occupied all my recollections, as well as all my reasoning faculties, so that I could not rest. I was tossed in a sea of doubt as to what attentions Mr. Hastings might still permit himself to shew me, and if shewn, whether I ought to accept them. If I did, and particularly if I ever found myself again within the atmosphere of Foljambe Park, I felt I was lost for ever; for this new position in which I had seen her, only made me more than ever the lover of goodness and of Bertha.

On the other hand, the intimations by Granville as to the effect of Mr. Hastings' religious feelings (perhaps fears) upon his consciousness of the sin of pride, worked upon my sanguine temper, so that I actually thought it within a possibility that I might again be the approved inmate of Bertha's paternal home.

It never occurred to me that there was another and safer alternative, in returning, by a noble effort of resolution, the very next day to Oxford. The result was, that I fled from decision, and resolved to trust to the chapter of accidents; perhaps, on some occasions, as good an ally as we can have.

One thing was clear, that I could not leave York

without again waiting upon these two interesting friends; in which opinion Granville himself, when I consulted him next morning, concurred; and having previously sent inquiries, and found that the sufferers had passed a good night, we set out after breakfast, Granville to pay duty and offer services, I to submit to whatever doom might be awarded me by the new ally I have mentioned.

What this ally meant yet to do I could not tell, but it was evident, from the hurry and movement we found among Mr. Hastings' people, that the present state of things was not the order of the day.

Mr. Hastings was so much recovered, and Bertha so anxious to give him the comforts of home, that after having consulted Sandford, who thought the temporary access he had suffered had subsided, and that there was no danger, it was resolved to move homeward that very morning.

Thus I was like an ill-fated mariner, who, after being tempest-tost, and gratified with the sight of port, is suddenly blown off, and driven again to sea. Granville was, of course, to accompany them; and as for me, I had nothing left but to express all wishes for their welfare, and to announce that in a few hours I should be on the way to Oxford.

Bertha said nothing, but, as I thought, looked significantly at her father, who then asked me if this was in consequence of college duty, or only my own. wish. "If the first," said he, "I can have nothing to observe; but if you are not obliged to return, I own I should be sorry to part so soon with a young