you as one; but establish the tyranny over him you have done-torture him with a want of fidelity-show indifference to pleasing him, and obstinacy in coming between him and his books and his friends-and I, who am sure to get to know, will punish you for it by telling him of this letter."

Lizzie would have spoken, but, majestically, she waved her from the room, and the light girl was too much overawed to show any resentment.

Maurice's voice was heard calling for her. She hastened below. Nothing in her manner indicated any unusual excitement or embarrassment; she was as sportive as a fawn. Mr. Wetherill told her that she must have laid siege to his son on the comic side of his character; for Maurice's keen perception of humour was likely enough to find great gratification in a girl so amusing as Lizzie Howard. Yet, with all her comicality, she possessed but little wit. It was her little prettinesses which made her so irresistible. The decided comic is generally found in alliance with much goodness of heart.

Soon after this evening's episode she went home. Mabel lived on, and yet kept her secret. Yet, for all her struggle with self, and her noble resolve to conquer, she felt herself cramp and shrivel, and it seemed as if

a cold, heavy, dead hand was laid upon the pulses of her heart to stop their beating.

Finding herself worsted, Mabel lost faith in the power of religion to support; almost in its reality. She had built a beautiful fabric, but she had built it upon the sand. 'And the rains came and the winds blew," and behold it was tottering to its fall. What will become of her when she sees it laid in ruins?

CHAPTER XV.

"I know a maiden fair to see,
Take care!

She can both false and friendly be,
Beware! beware!

Trust her not, she is fooling thee!

"She gives thee a garland woven fair,
Take care!

It is a fool's-cap for thee to wear,
Beware! beware!

Trust her not, she is fooling thee!"

From the German, by LONGFELLOW.

MAURICE was within a week or two of his marriage. The Wetherills did not expect any more visits from him till he should come to see them with his bride. But one day he came upon them suddenly, without warning. He seemed too hurried to notice or respond to their affectionate greetings, only telling his father that he wished to speak to him alone.

"Am I even to be excluded ?"

"No, mother, you may come too."

His manner betrayed the greatest agitation. Whatever could be the matter? A sudden hope arose in Mabel's heart, illumining her eyes.

She covered them with her hand.

Hetty laid upon her fingers as cold as ice. "Whatever can it mean ?" she asked.

"We shall know soon," was the answer.

Maurice, without explaining anything to his father, handed him a letter :

"MY DEAR DARLING MAU,—

"Don't be angry with me when you get this. I am in the greatest distress for you; but must write and tell you to have no more thought of me. Do not come to see me, I entreat of you. Indeed it will be useless. Oh, my darling, I did not know my own heart well enough when I told you that I loved you. Don't ask any questions. There is nothing to explain. Only tell me that you forgive me, and suspend any preparations for the future in which I may be concerned.

"Yours no longer,

"LIZZIE."

"I have been to see her," said Maurice, "but could not obtain an interview. No, not even in the presence of her mother. Not a word of explanation could either of her parents give. They expressed themselves as very ashamed and indignant.”

"Maurice, I congratulate you," said his father. "You have had a lucky escape."

"Ah, say not so! You do not know what she was to me. Don't you think her brain may have become a little unsettled with thinking about the future, and making arrangements for the wedding?"

"Nonsense! Brains like hers never become unsettled. It's her heart that is unsettled, not her brain." Maurice's face was haggard and wan, and his eyes were fierce. Soon the sign was passed to Hetty and Mabel, who were hovering uneasily about, like expectant birds.

"Oh!" said Mabel, "I guessed the nature of the trouble. I suppose the baronet in posse has become the baronet in esse."

Maurice turned round on her as if he would have annihilated her.

"What do you mean ?" he asked.

She related, then, the episode of the letter; but of course it was impossible for her to confess the motives. which had influenced her to the keeping it a secret.

Sternly Mr. Wetherill and Maurice questioned her, and she was without answer before them.

"Mabel Gordon," said Maurice bitterly, "I thought you were the truest friend I had. I find I have been mistaken. God help me to forgive you, as well as that foolish child, the wrong that you have done me. I count you the more inexcusable."