murderer's hand. She instantly resolved to conceal for ever the insult she had received; and to this resolution she determined that all other circumstances should bend. Yet should she receive Colonel Hargrave as formerly, what might he not have the audacity to infer? How could she make him fully sensible of her indignant feelings, yet act such a part as might deceive the penetration of her father? Act a part!—deceive her father! Laura's thoughts were usually clear and distinct; and there was something in this distinct idea of evasions and deceit, that sickened her very soul. This was the first system of concealment that had ever darkened her fair and candid mind; and she wept bitterly when she convinced herself, that from such conduct there was no escape.

She sat lost in these distressing reflections, till the clock struck the hour of breakfast; then recollecting that she must not suffer her appearance to betray her, she ran to her glass, and, with more interest than she had perhaps ever before felt in the employment, proceeded to dress her countenance to advantage. She bathed her swollen eyes, shaded them with the natural ringlets of her dark hair, rubbed her wan cheeks till their colour returned, and then entered the parlour with an overacted gaiety that surprised Captain Montreville. 'I scarcely expected,' said he, 'to see you so very animated, after being so ill as to go to rest last night, for the first time in your life, without your father's blessing.'

Laura, instantly sensible of her mistake, colouring, stammered something of the cheering influence of the morning air; and then meditating on a proper medium in her demeanour, sunk into so long a silence, as Captain Montreville could not have failed to remark, had not his attention been diverted by the arrival of the newspaper, which he continued to study till breakfast was ended, when Laura gladly retired to her room.

Though the understanding of Laura was above her years, she had not escaped a mistake common to the youth of both sexes, when smarting under a recent disappointment in love,—the mistake of supposing, that all the interest of life is, with respect to them, at an end, and that their days must thenceforth bring only a dull routine of duties without incitement, and of toils without hope. But the leading principle of Laura's life was capable of giving usefulness, and almost respectability, even to her errors; and the gloom of the wilderness, through which her path seemed to lie, only brightened, by contrast, the splendour that lay beyond. 'The world,' thought she, 'has now nothing to offer that I covet, and little to threaten that I fear. What then remains but to do my duty, unawed by its threatenings, unbribed by its joys. Ere this cloud darkened all my earthly prospects, I was not untaught, though I had too much forgotten the lesson, that it was not for pastime I was sent hither. I am here as a soldier, who strives in an enemy's land; as one who must run—must wrestle—must strain every nerve—exert every power, nor once shrink from the struggle till the prize is my own. Nor do I live for myself alone. I have a friend to gratify—the poor to relieve—the sorrowful to console—a father's age to comfort—a God to serve. And shall selfish feeling disincline me to such duties as these? No, with more than seeming cheerfulness, I will perform them all. I will thank Heaven for exempting me from the far heavier task of honouring and obeying a profligate.'

A profligate! Must she apply such a name to Hargrave. The enthusiasm of the moment expired at the word, and the glow of virtuous resolution faded to the paleness of despondency and pain.

From a long and melancholy reverie, Laura was awakened by the sound of the garden gate, and she perceived that it was entered by Colonel Hargrave. Instinctively she was retreating from the window, when she saw him joined by her father; and, trembling lest candour was about to confess, or inadvertence to betray, what she so much wished to conceal, she continued with breathless anxiety to watch their conference.

Though Colonel Hargrave was certainly one of the best bred men in the kingdom, and, of consequence, entirely divested of the awkwardness of mauvaise honte, it must be confessed, that he entered the presence of the father of Laura with rather less than his accustomed ease; but the cordial salutation of Captain Montreville banishing all fear that the lady had been too communicative, our lover proceeded, without any remaining embarrassment, to unfold the purpose of his visit. Nor could any one have conjectured, from the courtly condescension of the great man, that he conceived he was bestowing a benefit; nor from the manly frankness of the other, that he considered himself as receiving a favour. Not but that the Colonel was in full possession of the pleasures of conscious generosity and condescension. So complete, indeed, was his self-approbation, that he doubted not but his present magnanimous resolve would efface from the mind of Laura all resentment for his offence. Her displeasure he thought would be very short lived, if he were able to convince her that his fault was not premeditated. This he conceived to be an ample excuse, because he chose to consider the insult he had offered, apart from the base propensities, the unbridled selfishness which it indicated. As Laura had so well concealed his indiscretion, he was too good a politician himself to expose it; and he proceeded to make such offers in regard to settlements, as suited the liberality of his character.

Captain Montreville listened with undisguised satisfaction to proposals apparently so advantageous to his beloved child; but, while he expressed his entire approbation of the Colonel's suit, regard to feminine decorum made him add, 'that he was determined to put no constraint on the inclinations of his daughter.' The Colonel felt a strong conviction, that no constraint would be necessary: nevertheless, turning a neat period, importing his willingness to resign his love, rather than interfere with the happiness of Miss Montreville, he closed the conference, by entreating that the Captain would give him an immediate opportunity of learning his fate from the lips of the fair Laura herself.

Laura had continued to follow them with her eyes, till they entered the house together; and the next minute Captain Montreville knocked at her door.

'If your head-ache is not quite gone,' said he, with a significant smile, 'I will venture to recommend a physician. Colonel Hargrave is waiting to prescribe for you; and you may repay him in kind, for he tells me he has a case for your consideration.'

Laura was on the point of protesting against any communication with Colonel Hargrave; but instantly recollecting the explanation that would be necessary, 'I will go to him this instant,' she exclaimed with an eagerness that astonished her father.

'Surely, you will first smooth these reddish locks of yours,' said he, fondly stroaking his hand over her dark auburn hair. 'I fear so much haste may make the Colonel vain.'

Laura coloured violently; for, amidst all her fears of a discovery, she found place for a strong feeling of resentment, at the easy security of forgiveness that seemed intimated by a visit so immediately succeeding the offence. Having employed the few moments she passed at her toilette in collecting her thoughts, she descended to the parlour, fully resolved to give no countenance to the hopes her lover might have built on her supposed weakness.

The Colonel was alone; and as she opened the door, eagerly advanced towards her. 'My adored Laura,' cried he, 'this condescension—.' Had he staid to read the pale, but resolute countenance of his 'adored' Laura, he would have spared his thanks for her condescension.

She interrupted him. 'Colonel Hargrave,' said she, with imposing seriousness, 'I have a request to