SIR ROBERT BROMPTON was a man of some three and fifty years, the last representative of an ancient and aristocratic family, renowned no less for their political position than for their great wealth, being a family of the old English stock. His father particularly had been distinguished for many years in parliament, and by his undeviating allegiance to the interests of the royal party, and his consistent devotedness to the interests of the king, had won the entire confidence, not only of his own party, but of the monarch himself, and in repayment he had received many distinguished honors at his hands. Already well endowed in the world's goods, he had been enabled by the king's favor to amass a princely fortune, and this with his honorable name and station, he transmitted to his only child, the present Sir Richard.

But the son was very unlike the father.The latter was a domestic man, gentle, affectionate and loving, and no man could have been happier in his domestic relations. Whereas the former was impetuous, though not ungenerous, fierce when crossed in his slightest will, and from circumstances that will appear, often jealous beyond endurance. The general character and disposition of the son had been most materially affected by the oc

BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER.

currence of a serious and unfortunate accident, which happened to him while he was yet quite a boy, and which had caused him to be lame in one limb ever since-and thus it was very evident he must remain until the end of life. This accident which occurred at a gymnasium when he was at the age of fourteen, was of so serious a character that it laid him upon a bed for nearly a twelvemonth, and during the most of this period of time, caused him the most intense and unremitting suffering.

This year of pain, idleness and confinement was a severe trial for a high spirited and remarkably active boy, and doubtless it went far towards souring a disposition already a little peevish and restless from over-indulgence, for his parents could not find it in their heart to deny him anything, inasmuch as he was an only son. Notwithstanding this unfortunate accident, he grew up still adhering to a love and passion for a physical development of his frame, and his first visit abroad, after leaving the sick room where he had been so long confined, was to the gymnasium, when he performed the very feat successfully, which failing in before, had caused him a broken ankle.

Though he necessarily walked lame ever after, still his carriage had that easy dignity

Possessed of a natural shrewdness and aptitude, he had mastered his studies promptly, and graduated with honor at an early age at Oxford. Time passed on, and his father desiring to have some trusty person to visit his immense possessions in India and to look after his interests there, induced his son to accept of a government appointment at Calcutta, and thus to go out with a double purpose. Just at this time there were some matters of the utmost delicacy being transacted in that quarter for the government, and the charge of this business fell at once into his hands. This he conducted to such a successful issue that on his return to England, though very young for the honor, he was knighted by the king.

Soon after his return, the father died and left his son the sole heir of his immense fortune, the mother having preceded Sir Robert, some years previous, to the grave. The son now found himself alone in the world, with neither kith nor kin to care for. He never had a brother and only one sister, who had died quite young. Having already run through with the ordinary dissipations of the capital before he went to India, he was thoroughly disgusted with that species of life, and it therefore held out no inducements to him. Though he was by no means of an indolent disposition, yet he had not the taste that would lead him to master fresh studies, or to engage in politics as his father had done before him, and thus in fact he rather endured life than enjoyed it, for nearly a year after the decease of his father.

Travel at last suggested itself to him as a mode whereby to drive away ennui, and in this mood he finally went abroad. After an absence of less than two years, he returned once more to London, and surprised his friends and the fashionable world by bringing with him a young and beautiful wife. One whose beauty and nobleness of bearing stamped.her at once as of high descent, and who commanded immediately that attention and respect that is ever shown to dignity and beauty combined. Sir Robert Brompton was beyond a doubt, if

It is true Sir Robert's wife was some twelve years his junior, and he himself was a little old-bachelorish in his feelings and notions, yet still they seemed to be very happy and cheerful together; no one even of the envious, had aught to say to the contrary. But there were clouds in the future that portended storms. Sir Robert at least could already see deepen. ing shadows crossing their pathway.

Their house had become the centre of much fashion and style, and almost nightly balls and routs formed their evening's entertainment. Sir Robert was liberal to a fault; no wish of his wife's remained unsatisfied; and her taste and judgment had ornamented her drawing rooms to perfection. She was young and and rather inexperienced in the world's ways; very beautiful, and of course the object of much homage and attention. To say that this was not agreeable to her, would be to say that she did not possess the ordinary feelings and promptings of her sex ; but to charge her with any infidelity in thought or deed to Sir Rob. ert, would be the farthest thing possible from the truth. He was ever honored and respected by her.

And yet oftentimes when he observed her smiling and enjoying the homage of some sleek, well-formed sprig of the aristocracy, he would glance at his own unseemly lameness, and, shrugging his shoulders, utter a half-suppressed sigh. That he loved his wife tenderly, was beyond a question; his every day life. gave ample proof of this, and at heart he also believed that his love was fully returned.

Lord Henry Amherst, a young man of surpassing attractions, both mentally and in his manly and noble bearing, about this period became acquainted with the lady of Sir Robert Brompton. He was a frequent guest at her parties, and a constant and devoted follower in her train. His position and title in grade, were considerably above those of the Bromp ton family, and the lady could not but feel flattered by his open and devoted attention to her; but it was her vanity only that was pleased.

Sir Robert at first noticed him no more than he did a score of other visitants at his house and board, until by some chance a whispered remark one night, though not addressed to him, yet met his ear, and a live coal dropped upon powder could hardly have been more instantaneous in its effect. He became as watchful of Lord Amherst as though he were his bitterest enemy, seeking to injure him in the keenest point; his very glances were met half-way by those of Sir Robert, who sought by thus intercepting, to interpret them. He was far too proud to speak to his wife upon that subject; indeed the idea of doing such a thing, never for a moment crossed his mind.

Satisfied at last that Lord Amherst's intentions upon his wife were of no honorable character, Sir Robert took an opportunity on one or two occasions to evince to him that his visits were no longer desirable, so far as he was concerned, at his house. But his lordship was too strongly attached to take the hint at all, and continued both his visits and his attention to Sir Robert's lady, with most constant devotion. As this sort of life went on, Sir Robert's naturally jealous disposition began to ripen,

"For his mind

Had grown suspicion's sanctuary." and he consequently magnified the most trifling familiarities into matters of the greatest import; and though he said nothing, yet he brooded in secret over the feelings that influenced him, until he felt sure that his wife had married him not for himself alone, but for his known wealth, and to suit herself with a position in life, where, by her management, she could draw about her such as would please her vanity and taste. Indeed it looked so plain to him now, that he thought himself a fool not to have discovered it before.

Every kind word that his wife uttered to him, now seemed to his jealous heart impregnated with gall and falsehood; and every gentle and affectionate look, was set down by his suspicious soul as a lie. Yet still, for all this, he felt that he loved her beyond all else in life, and that, in spite of these harrowing thoughts, she was most incalculably dear to him. "O," he would exclaim, "would to God that I were a poor man, and she my wife; would that I could prove that she loved me truly and faithfully."

Still most innocently did the lady of Sir Robert Brompton smile gratefully upon Lord Amherst, a consideration which he, of course, translated with a lover's eye; and still he lowed her with all the devotion of one completely enslaved and infatuated by her beauty. The annoyance that Sir Robert thus endured, can hardly be calculated; he was continually upon coals of fire, and he felt that this could not continue long.

It was nearly the hour for breaking up the dance and merriment, one night at their hos pitable mansion, when Sir Robert, who kept his eyes constantly upon Lord Amherst, saw him pick up the lady's handkerchief, which she had apparently dropped by accident, and also observed him slip within its folds a billet, and then turning abruptly, leave the apart ment. Sir Robert immediately hastened to his wife's side, and after pausing for a moment so as not to appear abrupt, said:

"Your handkerchief a moment, my dear, some dust has fallen upon your mantle, and I will brush it off."

Unconscious of having received any note or aught else of an improper character from Lord Amherst, the lady at once, smilingly, handed the handkerchief to Sir Robert, from which he extracted the note, and after pretending to brush her mantle, he returned to her again, satisfied that she at least was innocent of Lord Amherst's effort to communicate with her in this clandestine manner. retired at once to read the note.

He

Having reached the privacy of his library, he opened the note and read as follows:

"DEAREST LADY:

"It must be that ere this you have discovered the burning and ungovernable passion that I bear you. live only in the light of your smiles, and am impatient and unhappy every hour that I pass away from your side. I have never dared to tell you this, but I have looked it a hundred times.

looked it a hundred times. Ah! lady, give

me leave to hope that this feeling, that pos sesses my whole soul, is mutual. Do not drive me from you, for thus speaking frankly the devotion that prompts me. I will not ask you to write to me, but give me a flower, a leaf, a ring, anything, dear lady, that I may understand as a token of encouragement. O, how impatiently I shall await the moment when

Sir Robert Brompton was not a man to throw away words in invectives, or waste strength in profitless anger. He did pause for a moment, to wonder within his own mind what his wife would have done, had she received this missive; and the thought crossed him that it might be well to send it to her still, as a sort of test to try her, and be on the watch for the result. But this was in a moment after rejected, as unworthy of his own character, and of the relationship he bore her. A moment's pause only was necessary for him to make up his mind, as to what was most proper for him to do. He sat down and wrote to Lord Amherst, simply enclosing the guilty letter, and telling him that it was useless to multiply words about such a matter as this, that he should expect from hin the immediate satisfaction that one gentleman is ever ready to accord to another, and finished by saying that his friend, who was the bearer of this note, could arrange matters on the spot, for their meeting at daybreak next morning, and that both for his lordship's sake and his own, he trusted that the cause of their encounter should remain a secret even to their seconds. He closed and sealed this, and addressed it to Lord Amherst.

Hurrying to the ball-room before it should be entirely cleared, Sir Robert singled out the most fitting person for his object, and returning with him to the library, placed the matter before him at once, of course, observing the strictest secrecy relative to the cause of the collision. He urged upon his friend the utmost dispatch, and having arranged a few necessary matters, separated from him. Fortunately he had chosen one well calculated to act as his second, in this delicate affair.

Sir Robert's messenger, after reaching Lord Amherst's quarter, sent up his name and also word that he wished to see his lordship on business of the utmost importance. Thus summoned, though at such an unseasonable hour, Mr. Wardsworth, the bearer of the note, was admitted, and his lordship received him in the drawing room in his dressing gown.

"I was somewhat surprised at the hour you have chosen for your call, Mr. Wardsworth," said Lord Amherst, "but from the character of your message by the servant, I thought it best to see you."

"I come on business, my lord, that will admit of no delay."

"Indeed, sir."

"Your lordship will oblige me by casting your eye over this," said Mr. Wardsworth, handing the note that Sir Robert had addressed to him.

Lord Amherst opened the seal and turned first pale, then red, for he understood its meaning. He paused for a moment in thought, and then said:

"I presume you do not know the contents of this note, sir?"

"I do not; that concerns me not, as my friend, Sir Robert, did not see fit to impart it to me-but as it regards the other matter, I'm fully prepared."

"True; you refer to the meeting," said Lord Amherst, abstractedly.

"Exactly, sir. I should like to consult your lordship's taste as far as practicable." "Thank you, sir," said his lordship, a little stiffly.

"I would suggest Round Head Moor, as a fitting place."

"Very well, sir."

"And pistols at fifteen paces," continued Mr. Wardsworth, in quite a business style.

"That will suit me very well," said Lord Amherst, curling the note in his hand. "Perhaps your lordship will name the hour," said Mr. Wardsworth.

"As soon as the light will serve the sooner the better, sir."

"Your lordship is very prompt, and my principal will meet you at the Moor at daylight," said Mr. Wardsworth, "and in the meantime, I have the honor to wish you good night."

"Good night, sir," said Lord Amherst, ringing for a servant to show him out.

Neither Sir Robert nor Lord Amherst slept that night, but both prepared to pass from the gay scenes of the ball-room to one of bloodshed. The few intervening moments were employed by each in making such brief arrangements relative to business matters, as might guard against casualty.