going on the following evening: in the mean while, I was to think over the matter well.

When she had ceased speaking, my aunt recollected she had left the book she was reading in the summer-house, near the end of the garden: she was about to ring for the servant to fetch it; I said I would go instead of her. It was a lovely summer night, and the cool air was very refreshing after the excitement I had gone through.

I found the book in the summer-house, but I did not return immediately, the intense calm of night was so delightful. I was in a strange condition, half-musing, half-crying, when I heard voices behind the summer-house. I felt frightened, and drew back into the shade. Listening very intently, I could distinguish my cousin's voice, then another voice-a woman's my aunt's maid, Lucy! To my utter amazement, I heard him ask the girl to meet him at that spot on the following evening, after we returned home from the party. It was my cousin's voice-I was certain of that. They passed away. This was the excellent man my aunt wanted me to marry! I was quite overcome with anger and indignation. I would denounce his conduct at once! When I had sufficiently recovered myself, I hurried back to the house; my aunt was not in the drawing-room; I had time for reflection. How did matters stand? Why, only my word against his! Of course, the girl would deny every thing: his word from childhood had always been preferred to mine; my aunt, at most, would believe I had mistaken the voice.

I resolved to hold my peace till the following evening. What a night and day of agitation I passed! Not one word did my aunt say about Josiah during the next day, but her manner was all kindness towards me.

The dinner-party was to be a very grand affair; and my aunt, as was usual on such occasions, wore her diamonds.

You may imagine how little I enjoyed myself seated next my cousin. Mrs. Huntly, Edward's mother, was at the party, and I could see she watched us very intently.

It happened after dinner, before the gentlemen came up, that Mrs. Huntly and myself were left alone together in one of the drawing-rooms. She addressed me, and laughingly said she supposed she

would soon have the pleasure of congratulating me on my engagement with my cousin. I longed to speak out to her, to tell her how I disliked my cousin, and loved her son, but I dared not. I strove to say something; my tongue was powerless; I burst into a flood of tears. Fortunately, I recovered myself before my aunt caught sight of me.

We left the party at about eleven o'clock. As soon as we got home, my aunt bade Josiah good-night, retired to her dressing-room, and sent for her maid. When my aunt wore her diamonds it was the custom for me to take them from her dressing-room, and put them away, and they were kept in a room opening into the dressing-room, which was used as a boudoir. In this room was a large fireproof safe, which on the outside had the appearance of an ordinary chiffonnière. I was in such a state of nervous agitation when I entered my aunt's room to obtain the diamonds, that at moments I seemed to lose my head. Lucy was assisting my aunt to undress; the diamonds lay on the dressing-table; I placed them in their box, and took them out of the room without saying a word. To my dismay, I found Josiah in the boudoir. There was always some difficulty about the lock of the safe, which was very elaborate he took the keys out of my hand, and opened the door for me, and almost before I had placed the diamonds in their usual place, he renewed his hateful offer. It was on my lips to tell him that I knew of his baseness: luckily, as events will show, I restrained myself; but I did solemnly declare that, come what might, I would never be his wife. He tried to frighten me with my aunt's displeasure. In the midst of our discussion, in came Lucy from the dressing-room with a message that her mistress wished to see me immediately.

It was a relief, at all costs, to be out of Josiah's presence.

My aunt was sitting in her easy-chair, wrapped in her dressing-gown. Her manner was all kindness towards me- she made me sit close by her. To my surprise she did not say one word about the marriage; she began talking, accidentally as it were, about the alterations she intended to make in the house; she asked my opinion of her different plans. I replied incoherently enough, I'm sure, but she took no notice of my manner.

As we lived in the neighborhood of London, it was Josiah's custom very frequently to discharge a pistol out of his bedroom window. Hearing the report, recalled to my mind that I had left the keys of the safe with him. My aunt kept these keys in a secret place in her room, and was always very careful to see that they were safely deposited before she went to bed. I was puzzling my head how to get these keys from Josiah, for I had not the courage to go for them myself, when there came a tap at the door, and Lucy brought in the keys, saying that Mr. Josiah had told her to give them to my aunt.

been more than five minutes after he had inquired about the keys, that he hurried into my aunt's dressing-room without so much as knocking at the door, and told us, in going the rounds of the house, he had found one of the dining-room windows, which opened on the garden, unbarred, and the window open. He was certain there was some collusion with people outside; thieves might even now be secreted in the house. He rang the alarm-bell which was connected with the room. His manner seemed so perfectly natural, that I began to believe I must have mistaken the voice. The womenservants, dreadfully frightened, came hud

It was a warm sultry night, and, on pretense of wanting air, I went to the window. How my heart beat! Looking out, I could just perceive in the breaks of light on the path, a figure hurrying down the garden; I strained my sight hard to be assured of the fact. The time had come to tell my aunt of my cousin's conduct.

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I turned abruptly from the window, and threw myself at her feet. Aunt, I can not marry my cousin!" At that moment, to my utter astonishment and dismay, there was a knock outside the door: it was Josiah; he had come to ask whether Lucy had delivered the keys.

My aunt answered Josiah's question, and he went away; then turning to me, she asked, in a severe voice, what I had to say.

I knew it was in vain for me to speak without proof. I was silent through painful helplessness. My aunt waiting a while for me to speak, sternly declared I had willfully thrown away my best chance in life; henceforth she should never recur to the subject, and she bade me goodnight. I reminded her that this was my first act of disobedience to her wishes; I declared I would never marry without her consent. It was all in vain: notwithstanding my tears and protestations, I could not move her to forgiveness.

But however great my distress of mind, it was for the time lost in bewilderment at Josiah's conduct. It could not have

was Lucy? Nobody knew; she was not up-stairs. Josiah and the two men were to search the house. The butler declared he had himself shut and barred the dining-room windows. Presently, we heard voices outside in the garden, and Josiah came back to my aunt's room, laughing; he said it was all a false alarm. The butler and footman had pounced upon Lucy just as she was coming in at the window. The wretched girl was hurried into my aunt's presence, and cross-questioned, Josiah standing by quite unconcerned. What had she been doing? she was so scared and frightened. All we could gain from her was, she had gone to meet her sweetheart.

My aunt gave her warning on the spot, and declared she should leave the house next day.

I was far too excited to sleep that night. Josiah's voice! was it Josiah's voice? I could think of nothing else.

Early in the morning, Lucy came into my room, crying bitterly. She begged and prayed I would intercede for her with my aunt.

"Tell me, Lucy, whom did you really go to meet ?"

"Why, miss, only my young man," she replied.

"What an hour to choose, Lucy!"

the meeting between you and that man arranged! I knew your voice, Lucy, and I knew his voice too!"

She turned deadly pale, and sank to the floor.

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"O miss!" she said, in a low tone, "you never can forgive me. It was very, very wrong; but if you knew all, you would pity me. Mr. Josiah promised to get my brother let off being a soldierhe did indeed! Mother's broken-hearted about poor James."

I knew it was true that Lucy's brother had enlisted.

"Have you any proof to give of Mr. Josiah's promise ?" I asked.

"Only my word; but that's worth nothing now," she replied, in accents of despair. "I've told one lie; nobody will believe me."

The girl's confession, which was so greatly to her detriment, left no doubt in my mind respecting my cousin; but the motive for his extraordinary conduct was still hidden in mystery. I cautioned the girl not to say a word about the affair with Mr. Josiah, which, unsupported as it was by any sufficient evidence, would only render her case worse with my

aunt.

My aunt, of her own accord, after very serious admonition, awarded to Lucy the grace of a month's warning.

Never again did my aunt allude to my marriage with Josiah; but she treated me with the utmost coldness and distance. It appeared that Mrs. Huntly had perfectly comprehended the reason of my silence and tears when she addressed me at the dinner. In a few days, I received a letter from her son, making me an offer.

Rejoiced as I was at this evidence of Mr. Huntly's love, I could have given any thing that his avowal should have been postponed till my aunt had become more reconciled to my rejection of Josiah.

I placed the letter in my aunt's hand, telling her that I held myself fully bound by my promise not to marry without her consent. She read the letter without making any remark on the contents, told me to acknowledge its receipt, and say that the subject should be fully answered in a few days. I little imagined the reply that letter was destined to receive.

One morning, about ten days after the dinner-party, I was summoned to my aunt's room: of course I believed shel

wished to see me respecting Mr. Huntly's offer. When I entered the room, I could see she was much agitated; she motioned me to shut the door.

"Where did you put the diamonds on the night of the dinner?" she inquired. "In their usual place, at the top of the drawer," I replied.

"Find them, then !"

I knelt down, and looked into the safe; the diamonds were not in their place. I felt dreadfully alarmed; it was my fault, for letting the keys go out of my hands. I pulled out all the contents of the safe, parchments, legal documents, dusty bundles of letters, bills, plate—the diamonds were gone!

"I have had the keys in my possession from the time Lucy brought them to me the night of the dinner; I can swear to it!" exclaimed my aunt. "Why, that was the night the girl was found in the garden."

"You don't suspect Lucy, aunt ?" "I do!" she replied with decision. I protested it was impossible Lucy could have been guilty of such a crime. Well," rejoined my aunt, we women are not fit judges in such a matter. I'll send for Mr. Chapman."

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This gentleman was a solicitor, and had always been a great friend and chief adviser to my aunt.

A messenger was dispatched to Mr. Chapman, and the coachman sent, post haste, to fetch Josiah home from the city.

In about two hours, Mr. Chapman was with us. My aunt related to him the occurrences of that night, calling upon me to supply the particulars in which I was concerned.

He desired that Lucy should be sent for. I would have willingly escaped from the room, but my aunt ordered me to remain.

Mr. Chapman placed his chair so that the light from the window fell full on Lucy's face as she stood before him.

I was in a perfect agony; I knew the girl was innocent. There was a sickening presentiment weighing in my mind, strive against it as I would, that Josiah was involved in the affair.

Mr. Chapman stated to Lucy, that in consequence of something which had just transpired, it was necessary for him to know the name of the person she had gone into the garden to see.

The girl looked anxiously at me; I

She said it was her lover!

"His name?" demanded Mr. Chapman. She refused to give any name, and though he pressed her on the point, she remained obstinately silent.

"Now, Lucy," said he, "this is how matters stand: your mistress's diamonds were placed in that press: the keys were last in your possession: the diamonds are gone."

"Gone!" exclaimed the girl in terror. "Not me, sir; you don't suspect me ?"

Mr. Chapman made no reply. Lucy turned from him to my aunt, and vehemently protested her innocence.

"It is in your own power, Lucy," said Mr. Chapman, "to clear yourself from suspicion by telling us the name of your lover."

In sheer desperation, the girl uttered some name. Mr. Chapman noted it down.

"Now, the address. Mind, I shall send a person instantly to verify what you say."

She stammered, prevaricated, and threw herself in an agony of grief on the floor. Mr. Chapman told my aunt that a constable had better be sent for.

At this juncture, Josiah entered the room; he was not himself- I could see that he peered anxiously round.

To my amazement, Lucy started up. "I will tell you who this man is, sir," she exclaimed to Mr. Chapman. "There he is ;" and pointing to Josiah, she looked him steadfastly in the face.

"The girl's mad," said Josiah with affected coolness.

"This is a sheer loss of time," said Mr. Chapman ; 66 we had better send her off."

"I'm not mad," cried the girl. "He knows he asked me to meet him in the garden; he promised to get off my poor brother, if I would."

I saw Josiah wince at her words. "It's a base lie," interposed my aunt. "Mr. Josiah never went into the garden the night you were found there."

"Wretched creature, this falsehood won't serve you," exclaimed Mr. Chapman indignantly.

"But I've a witness," she retorted boldly. "We were overheard the night before."

I saw Josiah grow pale. "Really,

VOL. XLIX.-NO. 1

"Of course not," replied my aunt; then turning to the girl, she told her to produce her witness.

Lucy flew up to me, and with determined energy drew me into the middle of the room. "Speak for me," she exclaimed.

It was a terrible moment; to speak, was to criminate Josiah.

"You must speak," said the girl fiercely; "if you don't, it will be on your conscience to your dying-day."

I shall never forget the terrible ordeal of questioning and cross questioning I underwent. Lucy, now that the truth was out, had grown quite reckless and defiant, and she positively forced the words out of my mouth. My aunt, on the other hand, was strangely calm and composed, and seized with eagerness on every weak point in my narrative. I had stated that I had heard Josiah ask the girl to meet him. "Had I seen Josiah ?" inquired my aunt; "that was the great point."

"No, I had certainly not seen him." "Then I might, after all, have mistaken the voice."

I was ready enough to confess that I might have done so.

"But how had Lucy discovered my knowledge of the affair ?"

I related my conversation with the girl on the following morning.

"It seems to me only to amount to this," said my aunt: "you have been all along prejudiced against your cousin. In the first place, you fancied you heard his voice; instead of openly speaking to me, and having the matter cleared up, you allowed the idea to remain in your mind. This wretched girl, cleverly enough, perceives the nature of your vile suspicions; very likely, long ere this, has been the confidante in the feelings you entertain towards your cousin; so she endeavors to gain your favor by debasing his character, and at the same time, for her own advantage, she converts you into a witness in support of the most palpable lie ever invented."

Mr. Chapman fully assented to my aunt's view of the matter.

I was in a perfect agony at the course things had taken. I denied, with truth, that I had ever spoken to Lucy about my cousin.

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