evening moonlight, Fred and Clara frequently strolled out pleasantly together. Feelings were reciprocated. Ideas of future prospects towered higher than the moon. A happy home, brightened by the golden beams of the honeymoon was seen peeping through the sylvan avenues of imagination. A few months, perchance only a few weeks had only to pass by, and their souls were to be pressed so closely together by the legal stamp of matrimony that nothing but the chisel of death could be able to separate them.

What a delightful picture of future life is often sketched by the artistic fancy of the soul. What beautiful delineations of all that is exquisitely pleasing and profitable! The scenes are of the grandest descriptions: the coloring, of the richest hues, admirably shaded and intermingled. Even the darkest spots are glistening by the surrounding beauty. All appears as an enchanted dream; a glimpse of fairyland, or as a primeval paradise modernized, and rendered suitable in every part to gratify the desires of the mind.

But, alas! too frequently these prospects of ideality are built only upon corner pillars, and tower to so great an altitude above their slender bases, that their summits, like the top of Babel become mystified by the clouds; and when the first storm of adversity, or the breath of insidious circumstances are blown against them, they totter, and eventually fall crashing to the earth, and lie scattered in shapeless ruins around their basis.

But, perhaps, it is cruel to predict, or even to suggest, such ruinous consequences to the moonlit dreams of that happy pair. Time alone can unfold the mysterious realities of life. I will, therefore, pursue the windings of their course, and note down the various incidents and events as they are struck out, like the sparks from the heated iron under the blacksmith's hammer.

CHAPTER IV.

We now come to that eventful evening referred to in chapter first, of which a part of the proceedings is described. We shall now continue our narration, and make known the consequences of that unfortunate meeting.

No sooner had Clara departed from the house of Mr. Charlston than Frederick, from some impulsive motive, glided out of the room; and having hastily disguised himself in his father's great coat, hat and muffler, hurried out, and followed in pursuit of Clara. In the vicinity of the house at which she had left her acquaintance, he observed a young man sauntering around. This person Fred discovered to be none other than Charles Holstrom. So passing hurriedly onward without being recognized he crossed over at the first corner to the other side of the street and walked back. When nearly opposite the house referred to the door opened and a young woman, alone, whom he knew to be Clara, came out. She hurried forward only a few steps when Holstrom wheeled around and addressed her; and having received her hand on his arm they glided hastily along the street. Frederick was startled at the reality. His blood flooded in tidal waves to his heart. His nerves quivered. His soul became exasperated. He inwardly threatened immediate violence to both parties. But having hastily checked the outpourings of his resentment he secretly followed them, yet still breathing volumes of deprecations which rose in steaming vapor from his phrenzied brain.

"Can it be possible?" he soliloquised, "that Clara has been practising deception upon my faithful affection? I have discovered when too late that she has flattered my fond heart with her insidious wiles. I loved her once, I despise her now. She has got rid of her child, and she is now trying to dispose of me also. Ah! the syren that she is! No longer shall I breathe her name but with feelings of hatred and disgust. Ah! that villain too, who is leading her headlong to her own ruin! I hate him also. His affection towards me as a friend and companion has only served as a mantle to cover his deceitful heart. He is a serpent more subtle and venomous than that which entered the Garden of Eden. Ah! the vile wretch that he is! The deed is too base to forgive. I spurn the debased villain. I shall humble his proud heart. I shall crush him to the earth. I shall have revenge upon his guilty head. Revenge, revenge I must have!"

In this excited state of feelings poor Frederick followed them unperceived to the very doorsteps of her home. His impulses had made him recklessly desperate. His savage nature was aroused. He was, indeed, no longer himself. Like a wild beast he was ready to spring upon them, and would have done so had not the uprisings of his moral nature suggested to him not to do so.

He heard for a while the lively chit-chat within—the humorous joke—the joy-excited laughter, all of which only aroused his indignation to greater fierceness. But at that moment, when ready to put his threats into execution the right hand of his soul arrested suddenly the uplifted weapon of his evil heart. He wheeled about as if it were instinctively, fled from the house, and directed his course homeward with hasty steps.

Having quietly slipped himself into his bedroom he retired to his couch; but there was no rest there for his unhappy soul, which, even during a few moments of slumber was distracted with dreams of the most hideous character imaginable.

Next morning Fred was not astir as usual. His mother, at length, dreading increased illness as the cause, entered his room. Fred looked up with a woe-begone countenance, which of itself was sufficient to verify her apprehensions.

"Are you worse, Fred?" his mother interrogated. "I don't feel quite as well, mother," he replied.

"Ah, Fred, I thought you would get more cold by going out last evening," said she. "Why Fred, my son, you are quite feverish," she exclaimed resting her hand upon his forehead. "I shall get father to go for Dr. Guernsey immediately."

"Mother, I beg of you not to do so, my throat is not worse. The want of sufficient sleep last night has had a tendency to make me feel debilated. Rather bring me a cup of coffee than send for the doctor."

Mrs. Charlston at once hurried to the kitchen and told Amelia to prepare a strong cup of coffee and a slice of toast as quickly as possible. Shortly afterwards Mrs. C. entered Frederick's room with the coffee and toast, followed by his father and sisters.

Fred strengthened himself for the occasion. He rose up on the bed quite vigorously, and took breakfast with an apparently good appetite. His mother having cooled his face with a wet towel he laid himself down to repose, and the others withdrew from the room. Ere long the tender finger of nature closed his weary eyelids, and during nearly all the rest of the day poor Fred lay calmly enlocked in the arms of sleep.

On the following morning Fred was considerably better, and continued in a convalescent state.

However, he kept himself closely confined to his room for several days. On the second evening Clara called to see the child; and on the following, Charlie also made a visit, as he said, to see Fred; but neither of them saw him as his room-door was locked, and he was supposed to be fast asleep. In less than a week afterwards Clara again called. Fred was in the sitting-room when she entered; but, on seeing her, he instantly sprang from his seat, and without opening his lips, abruptly left the room.

Clara at once discovered in his appearance and actions that something of a serious nature had effected these results. However, she endeavored as well as she could to restrain her feelings. The others of the family also noticed the abrupt mariner in which Fred absconded; but excused his doing so by attributing it to the bashfulness of his bad looks rendered so by his illness.

"Why, Fred," said Eliza after Clara was gone, "what caused you to make such a runaway as that?"

"Why, Fred," cried Amelia, "you sprang up as if you had been startled by a shock of electricity?"

"I thought, Fred," exclaimed Charlotte, "was going to play 'hide-and-go-seek', with Clara,