her eyes filled with tears, the proud, consequential aspect of her countenance gradually subsided into an expression of softness, and she silently gave him her hand.

"Can you, Miss Fitz-Patrick, amongst a multitude of flatterers, suffer one faithful, uncompromising friend?" continued he, earnestly. "I feel myself the appointed guardian of each individual in this widely-extended parish; and it would be well if I might occasionally speak the words of truth and soberness to her whose influence and example will have such weight among the objects of my continual solicitude and prayers."

"I once had such a friend as you describe," replied Eleanor, in a tone of unusual sensibility. "I still need one, Dr. Murray, and though the blessing_was not sufficiently valued formerly, let us hope that now I may prove deserving of it."

Eleanor believed herself sincere in saying this, and to a certain extent she was. Deeply impressed by the glowing eloquence of his manner, and conscious of Dr. Murray's exalted character, she had long desired the esteem of one whose regard was indeed an honor, since it could be acquired by nothing but personal worth. While he laid before her the utter insignificance of all earthly distinctions, she felt for the moment as if they had vanished from her affections, and as if she might yet learn to view them in due subservience to the will and to the service of her Maker. A deep conviction rushed into her mind of the inability which she had recently felt to derive happiness or peace from the fullest indulgence of every vain and extravagant inclination; and the contrast forced itself upon her thoughts between Matilda's serenity and cheerfulness in every changing scene, while her own bosom was agitated with torturing emotions of envy and worldly ambition. The ennui and weariness which she had suffered in the absence of any object sufficiently important to occupy her whole desires, now recurred to her recollection with irresistible conviction; and while Dr. Murray pursued his subject with rising energy, it seemed to Eleanor's mind as if she were gradually awakening from a stormy dream, and that peace, like moonlight on the face of the waters, had again revisited her bosom. But the world does not thus easily lose hold of its votary. Many a struggle takes place before it has been sufficiently weighed in the balance to be found wanting. Many a tear of penitence is shed before we feel that repentance which shall never need to be repented of. Many a resolution formed, before divine grace is sought

to render it permanent. Who has not experienced the pow erful effects of eloquent preaching on his own heart, rendering every desire and every pursuit that might seem likely to oppose the stream of exhortation like straws on the tide but while yet only descending the steps which lead from the altar, his holy dispositions have been put to sleep, his good intentions dispersed, and the seriousness of his thoughts exchanged for all that levity and forgetfulness in which he has long indulged? It was thus with Eleanor. She seemed to have gazed for a moment through the telescope of faith, and with startling vividness to have brought eternity close to her eye, but in a moment she looked around and all was forgotten.

"MISS FITZ-PATRICK!" cried Lady Susan Danvers, in a tone of girlish vivacity, "do come this way and look at the sportsmen galloping home across the park. They resemble a field of scarlet poppies in a breeze of wind!"

"Strike me poetical!-what brilliant simile was that?" exclaimed Mr. Grant, taking out his pocket-book and pencil; "I must make a memorandum of it for my next publication-puppies did you say ???

Well, Miss Fitz-Patrick, Sir Richard gave me a capital mount! the horse as quiet as an old cow," said Mr. Ārmstrong, entering with the other gentlemen, and putting himself first. "Here I am, returned on your hands like a bad shilling!"

"So I think!" replied Eleanor, dryly. "We must endeavor to pass you as soon as possible."

"I suppose your subscription to the hounds was paid in advance to-day, Mr. Armstrong ?" asked Mr. Grant, gravely. "We generally expect it to be so from strangers."

Subscription!!-what do you mean, sir?"

"You don't say that the master of the hounds let you join without first settling with him!" replied Mr. Grant, assuming an air of well-feigned astonishment. Any one going out for a day is considered the same as a whole season. You are free of the pack now, but I can tell you there is no getting off without tabling the money-fifty guineas."

“But a stranger, who is leaving the country in a few days," interposed Eleanor, "could scarcely be asked to give such a sum. I shall speak to papa myself, Mr. Armstrong, and tell him that, as you go so very soon

"Ah! the sooner the better, if you wish to evade the sub

scription," added Mr. Grant. "It will be sent for, probably, I should think, on Saturday next.”

"I shall neither leave the place, nor pay any such exaction," said Mr. Armstrong, stubbornly seating himself on the Spanish chair. No trifle of that kind would make me disappoint my friends when I have once promised to stay with them; and all the hounds in Britain will not drive me out of this snug corner, while I continue to be as welcome and as comfortable as I am now."

"Ah, Major Foley!" cried Eleanor, turning away with a grimace of chagrin; "how do you do?"

"How do I do !-always well when I am near Miss FitzPatrick."

"Colonel Pendarvis! you were reported among the killed and wounded in a desperate leap over my new enclosure at Wolfdean this morning. Did you know that Major Foley was the original Snob mentioned in the Quarterly Review? --it is an undeniable likeness, so he cannot disown it." " If

"I never disown anything!" replied the Major. you were to allege that Lord Byron's Corsair was meant for me, or the Stout Gentleman, I should be equally ready to personate either character that pleases you.”

"Not the Stout Gentleman! we have him already;—and here he comes; I know the creaking of his boots at any dis tance," said Eleanor, darting her satirical eye at Lord Alderby, who entered a moment afterwards. "What an admirable horse yours is, my lord, for a light weight !-he seems very spirited too. I have read in the Morning Post, these many years past, an advertisement for a horse to carry a 'heavy, timid gentleman.' Can anybody tell me who he is, or if there is more than one?"

"I've seen thousands at Melton!" said Major Foley; "the moment a man gets heavy he becomes timid. I ride exactly ten stone eight myself."

"In that case, it is less a compliment to you than to Alderby or Fletcher, when Miss Fitz-Patrick remarks, as she often does, that you are all worth your weight in gold," said Mr. Grant.

"I am

"I wish we all had it !” cried Colonel Pendarvis. sure any one might read half-pay engraved on my forehead, but none of you will take half price for my hunters. Foley, it is too bad of you asking such a price for Flare-up, when everybody knows I am a soldier of fortune, meaning a soldier of no fortune at all, and that I positively cannot afford

it. You should be more considerate towards a brother officer."

"Colonel! I perceive you want to out-General me in negotiation; but it won't do!"

our

"Are you parting with Flare-up, Major Foley ?" said Eleanor, reproachfully. "I remember being so sorry last year, when Sir Francis let you have his beautiful chestnut, and to-day Lady Susan was remarking that you looked almost handsome upon her."

"Pendarvis! the bargain is off! she would be cheap at a thousand pounds if Miss Fitz-Patrick admires her. I flatter myself we did make a pretty good appearance on the field this morning!"

"Then you do flatter yourself prodigiously," interrupted Mr. Grant. Apropos of bargains, Pendarvis, let me tell you how famously I once did Sir Colin out of a good mount, --he can't overhear us, does he? It is the only good story Fletcher never attempts to tell. We were out with the Galewood hounds, and I was on that slow, stumbling bay of mine that you must remember-Dapper' we called him, on account of his clumsy proportions. Latterly it was his custom, the instant he was spurred, to drop down on his knees. Well! Fletcher was riding past on Firefly, when I stopped him and remarked what an extraordinary instinct. my hunter had, for he pointed at game like a dog! Sir Colin was, of course, incredulous at first, but as I had privately observed a covey of partridges near, I turned accidentally that way, and when we came near them applied my spurs. Down dropped Dapper, and up rose the partridges, so the thing no longer admitted of a doubt. The old gentleman was instantly frantic to buy the horse on any terms; so I agreed to an immense price, without, of course, intending to exact it, but one condition was, that we should immediately exchange steeds. This he was delighted to do, being impatient to try the powers of his recent acquisition. Soon after we reached a stream-Dapper attempted to drink, and Sir Colin spurred him on-so, as usual, he fell on his knees, in the water, while I galloped off in triumph, exclaiming, Holloa! Fletcher! that's a salmon?'

"Lord de Mainbury," said Eleanor, "how many foxes were put out of their misery to-day?"

Only one we set off the second time with a fine burst over the hill of Benachray, skirted Glenalpine for several