every direction, whilst our servants, two stout Devon lasses, hurried about with heavy feet, pouting lips, and moist faces.

I did not in the least know what all this bustle portended. I had a vague presentiment of some impending evil, and I rather thought that the bailiffs were in the house. It was evident that a very important crisis was about speedily to arrive; and being fully impressed with, this conviction, I resolved to interrogate the first person I might meet, concerning the cause of this confusion.

The first person I met was my brother Arthur. 'Well, Arthur," said I, "what's the matter?"

"What's the matter-nothing's the matter, except that it's full-moon to-night.'

My brother used often to ask me in what quarter was the moon; meaning, as I suspect, that I was a lunatic; but I loved the boy; and I forgave him, for he meant not to be unkind.

"I mean," said I "what is the reason of all this bustle in the house-every body appears in a commotion, and something is about to take place." "Oh! if you mean that," said Arthur, "why, Walter is coming here to-day."

"Walter!" I exclaimed, "and who's Walter ?" This was one of those wool-gathering speeches which procured me the appellation of a fool.

"Who's Walter? that's a good one," cried

Arthur;-"who is Gerard? Come, brother, I'll bet you six-pence that you can't tell me your own name before I count fifty:-One, two, three”—and he went on counting, until I interrupted him saying with a voice full of kindness, bending my eyes on him as I spoke,

"But I have not forgotten who is Arthur-no, brother, not that I may forget Walter, for I have not seen him since my childhood-I may forget myself and my own interests and do many foolish things-but not you, not you, Arthur; believe me I shall never forget you;" and I put my arm around my brother's neck and passed my fingers through his long hair.

Arthur raised his eyes and looked into my face. He read whole volumes of kindness there; and he replied, "Well, Gerard-you have always been very good to me; and if I do say things to you sometimes that I have no right to say, I can assure you that I mean nothing; I do not indeed, Gerard -it is all my fun and you must forgive me," and he took my hand into his own, and looked beseechingly in my face.

My eyes swam with tears: "Come Arthur," said I, "should you like a game of cricket? If you come into the field I will bowl to you;" and taking up the bats and wickets, I led Arthur out of the house.

When we had reached the field, Arthur seated

himself upon the ground, and said to me, as I was knocking in the stumps, "No, Gerard, I don't think that you like playing at cricket over much. You are very kind to do this to amuse me; but never mind the cricketing to-day, for I would much rather talk to my brother than play when he does not like it."

I laid myself down on the warm grass beside my brother; and he said to me," I'll tell you what, Gerard; I often hear very unkind things spoken of you behind your back. Mamma says that you are an idiot, and all that sort of thing; and is very glad when your holidays are over, and I do believe that she wishes you were dead, for. one day she said to me, 'Oh! Arthur if you had no brother I should have all the more for you;' but I'll be hanged, if she ever says so again, if I don't give it to her, Gerard.-Why, brother, how odd your face looks, and, Lord! there's blood upon your lips."

Poor Arthur! how little did he know that "the tender mercies of the ignorant are cruel," and that these few words of intended kindness had inflicted upon me more anguish than all his taunts and sarcasms had ever done since the first hour that he began to imitate the impertinence of his elders.

"Never mind, Arthur-I am well now,"-and endeavouring to change the subject, I asked him some question about Walter.

"I hope," said Arthur-“ that he will bring his

sword, and his pistols, and his cocked hat-by Jove, what fun I will have-I know how to make bullets, and if I don't put one or two into the fat sides of old Randall's pigs, the next time they come into our garden, my name's not Arthur, that's all -I'll be hanged if there's not one there now," and up started Arthur, seizing a big stone, and in less than a minute he was to be seen in hot pursuit of the devoted porker.

I walked towards the house, and going straight to my father's study, I tapped gently at the door. "Come in-who is there?" cried my father in somewhat of a rough voice.

I entered and saw at once that he was not in a very enviable humour. He was puzzling, as I thought, over some passage of Marston, which baffled his critical sagacity. "It is I, Sir-Gerard-can I help you?"

"Help me? and do you look upon yourself as an abler commentator than your father?-do you expect to succeed where I have failed, Sir, and think that your superior wisdom can throw light upon a subject which all my efforts have been unable to illustrate?"

"You mistake me, my dear Sir; I presumed not to offer any intellectual, but merely some manual, assistance. Is there anything that I can transcribe?"

"Oh! that is it," replied my father, quite sub

dued by the submissiveness of my manner and the meek respect, with which I addressed him—“oh ! that is all; well, sit down, Gerard. There is a passage here which I cannot make out; for I am not in a happy vein to-day:

But O to marke yon thing

Sweat to unite acquaintance to his friend,
Labour his praises and indeere his worth

With titles all as formally set forth

As the cap of a Dedicatory Epistle.'

The Cap-now what is the Cap? The Cap of a Dedicatory Epistle?"

"I think, Sir," said I diffidently, "that it means the illuminated capital with which it was customary in Marston's days to commence every dedicatory epistle. Look, Sir, at the M here'Many opprobies and aspersions, &c.' how 'formally' is it 'set forth.'"

"S'foot," said my father, "there is something in that; I believe, you're right after all." Then soliloquizing in an under-tone he continued, "The boy's not such a fool as I took him to be. By'r Lady, there's some sense in his sconce."

My father laid his hand upon my head, and was about to speak words of encouragement to me, at least his countenance indicated as much, when the study door was seen to open, and my mother entered the room.

"Mr. Doveton."