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advanced as far as it was possible without discovery from the trees; when they had disappeared, the light laugh of the friend still fell faintly on his ear, then the shutting of a door, and the total silence which ensued, convinced him that they had entered the house; and he turned back into the darkening walk to congratulate himself at leisure on his happiness, and pursue his reflections. He at first determined that the following day should end at once the sorrow of Emma, and the presumptuous hopes of Clifford. "I will start up before her," thought he, “like a messenger from another world, to bid her again be happy. Even in this plain dress, without attendance and without equipage, I shall not shrink from comparison with my rival. I will stand before her the same poor and friendless Mortimer she once knew; and the generous love which will prompt her to choose poverty with me, in preference to splendour with another, if it cannot be rewarded, will, at least, not be disgraced, by the wealth I shall afterwards pour into her lap, and at her feet.”—This idea, as it was flattering to the natural vanity of a man and a lover, was at first indulged with avidity; but it was soon after met by thoughts of a different nature. -He abandoned the idea of appearing before his mistress in the mean habiliments he then wore; he determined to return to the place where his baggage and part of his acquired riches had been left, and to come home a second Clifford, to the valley in which he was born, and fairly to enter the lists with him, in profusion, grandeur, every thing.

This plan, ridiculous as it was under these circumstances, was not wholly the whim of a lover dictated by love-like anxiety, desirous, by all possible appliances and means, to insure a favourable reception; he was partly influenced by a growing jealousy and spirit of rivalry, inspired by this unknown Clifford, and partly by a love of effect. He had a month before him, as it seemed, but his plan would occupy only three or four days. At the end of that short time, he would roll up the old avenue

in a splendid equipage; spring into the presence of his astonished Emma, who would hide her terror, and her joy, and her blushes, in his bosom; tell her that he had gained the wealth for which, on her account, he had forsaken his home and his country, and had returned to lay it at her feet.

It was almost dark before he had come to this conclusion, and he hastened out of the walk, determined to set off that very night; although more than once he had a mind to turn back, and to sacrifice the boyish love of effect, or whatever it might be, which prompted him to defer his own happiness, and that of his Emma, even for a few days; but it is only in good we are irresolute and unsteady, in what is otherwise we are all strength and firmness; he therefore struggled with the magnanimity of a martyr against the suggestions of common sense, and at length succeeded in persuading himself, that the line of conduct he had adopted was "wisest, virtuousest, discreetest, best."

In somewhat less than two days after his arrival at the necessary arrangements were completed. The whole of the first day was passed in such a hurry of preparation, that he had scarcely a moment to think; but the next morning, when his own part was finished, and he had nothing to do but wait the execution of his orders, a feverish anxiety took possession of his mind. Often he was on the point of ordering his horse and setting off, at a headlong gallop, for the place he had so causelessly quitted, leaving his splendid equipage to follow as it might; and at length when every thing was arranged, although it was late in the evening, he resolved not to lose another minute. Behold him, then, exactly three days from the time he had left the village, driving furiously along the road, in a very elegant travelling carriage drawn by four horses, and attended by two outriders. The clattering of the horses' hoofs upon the pavement, and the flashing of the lamps, and of the lighted windows, as

the vehicle rushed along the street of the town from which he took his departure, for some moments carried away his attention from the thoughts that had distracted him; a feeling of gratified pride entered his mind; he felt himself to be a man of consequence, and anticipated with an eager delight the surprise of his former friends, the humiliation of his enemies, and the unmixed happiness of his betrothed love.

His meditations were interrupted by his postillions suddenly pulling in their horses; a carriage, it appeared, was approaching in the opposite direction, and the night being dark, and the road extremely narrow at this place, it was necessary to be circumspect. He looked out of the window, but for some moments could only perceive the lamps of the other carriage, which was driving with considerable speed. At length, as it came nearer, moving more slowly, he observed what seemed to him, in his state of feverish sensibility, an evil omen of the result of his journey-the postillions wore white cockades, and it appeared evidently to be a marriage-party. The two

vehicles were now by the side of each other, their wheels grazing slightly as they passed, and Mortimer looked with a natural curiosity into the opposite window, which was open. The look that met his could not be mistaken: it had startled him on the solitary road; and the expression of triumph, mingled half with derision, half with pity, which now shone with a magnificent and fatal lustre in its glance, withered his very soul. Gasping for breath, and catching with convulsive energy at the window-frame, he stretched forward to obtain a view of the bride-their eyes met-a terrible shriek rung in the ears of the wretched Mortimer -a second came more faintly and more distant-and a third was lost in the rushing of the wheels, and the trampling of the horses, as he found himself carried with headlong speed-what matters it whither?

AILEEN ARTORE'S EPITAPH.

WRITTEN BY HERSELF.

Here in a little cave,

The prettiest nook of this most grassy vale,
All amid lilies pale,
That turn

Their heads into my little vault and mourn,-
Stranger, I have made my grave.

I am not all forgot:

A small hoarse stream murmurs close by my pillow,
And o'er me a green willow
Doth weep,

Still questioning the air, "Why doth she sleep,
The girl, in this cold spot?"

Even the very winds

Come to my cave and sigh; they often bring
Rose leaves upon their wing
To strew

O'er my earth, and leaves of violet blue;
In sooth, leaves of all kinds.

Fresh is my mossy bed:

The frequent pity of the rock falls here,
A sweet, cold, silent tear.
I've heard,

Sometime, a wild and melancholy bird
Warble at my grave head.

Read this small tablet o'er

That holds mine epitaph upon its cheek of pearl:-
"Here lies a simple girl,
Who died

Like a pale flower nipt in its sweet spring-tide,
Ere it had bloomed: "-No more.

www.

CONFESSIONS OF A LOVER.

FAIR LADIES, do not let this heading startle you. I do not mean to kiss and tell. I have "no such stuff in my thoughts;" of which you may be fully convinced if you will condescend (as the tradesmen say) to favour me with No. 9.

I

your orders. My object is of a nobler nature. I wish, in these my confessions, to stand up as a beacon-lover, to warn those who are entering upon the sea of life that there are rocks a-head-rocks on which my little bark of love has split, and against which they must be upon their guard. I have, at least, experience to guide me; and experience in amatory matters goes a great way. My birth and parentage can be of no consequence to any one, and, therefore, I may as well state them. Be it known, then, that I was born in the year 1797; that my father was a celebrated man, who bore away the palm from all competitors in the making of that necessary article called breeches, and that my mother was equally celebrated for wearing them-but only to patronise her husband's trade, I'll be bound for it, for a milder woman, excepting always when she had taken a little too much, never breathed.

My father and mother, somehow or other, did not attend to business, and wished to travel. The English government hearing this, would by no means allow them to travel at their own expense, and voluntarily came forward, on account of my father's celebrity, to defray their passage to I forget the name of the place, but it was some bay at the other side of the water, and I was left in the care of my aunt Sarah, a very virtuous but extremely passionate woman. I was then fifteen, and from that time may my love-adventures be dated. My aunt always expressed her dislike to see lazy he-creatures about a house, and so she had only a girl to look after her domestic affairs. Now Susan, who was about a year older than myself, had a very proper and laudable curiosity about things in general, which my aunt, however, by no means approved of; but, as it appeared to me praiseworthy, I encouraged it. The fact is, we were admirably matched, for she would even leave her work to listen to a secret; and I, at that time, for the soul of me, could not keep one. This was attributable entirely to my youthful purity of principle, because I always argued with myself thus:-“ If you

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