She was forced to admit that he was still kind, gentle, and affectionate; but was kindness, gentleness, and affection, sufficient to supply the place of the rapturous, romantic felicity she had anticipated? No! Hermance felt they were not; and pique mingled in her disappointment. These reflections would fill her eyes with tears; and a certain degree of reserve was assumed towards Henri, that tended not to impart animation to his languid, yet invariably affectionate, attentions.

Each day made Henri feel, still more forcibly, the want of occupation. He longed for a gallop, a day's hunting, or shooting; in short, for any manly amusement to be partaken of with some of his former companions.

Hercules plying the distaff could not be more out of his natural element than was our new married Benedict, shut up for whole hours in the luxurious boudoir of his wife; or sauntering round, and round again, through the pretty, but confined, pleasure-ground, which encircled his cottage. It is true, he could ride out with Hermance; but then she was so timid an equestrian, that a gallop was a feat of horsemanship she dared not essay; and to leave her with his groom, while he galloped, would be uncivil. After they had taken their accustomed ride, they invariably strolled, arm in arm, the usual number of turns in the pleasure-ground; repeated nearly the same observations, that the flowers, weather, and points of view, had so frequently elicited; looked at their watches, and were surprised to find it was not yet time to dress for dinner. At length, that hour arrived, regarded by some, as the happiest in the twenty-four; and our wedded pair found themselves at table, with better appetites and less sentiment than lovers are supposed to possess. In short, the stomachs seemed more alive than the hearts,-a fact which rather shocked the delicacy of the gentle Hermance.

During the first few bridal days, their servants had been dismissed from attendance in the salle à manger, because their presence was deemed a restraint. Besides, Henri liked to help Hermance himself, without the intervention of a servant; and, with the assistance of dumb-waiters, their tête-à-tête dinners had passed off, as they said deliciously.

In the course of a fortnight, however, they required so many little acts of attendance, that it was deemed expedient to dismiss the dumb-waiters, and call in the aid of their living substitutes.

"How tiresome it is of our cook," said Henri, “to give us the same potage continually!"

"Did you not examine the menu?" replied Hermance. "I scarcely looked at it," was the answer; "for I hate ordering dinners; or, in truth, knowing what I am to have at that repast, until I see it; and here, I vow (as the servant uncovered the entrées), are the eternal cótelettes d'agneau, and filets de volaille, which we have had so often, that I am fatigued with seeing them."

"Do you not remember, cher ami," said Hermance, "that you told me you liked soupe au riz better than any other, and that the entrées now before us, are precisely those which you said you preferred?"

"Did I, love?” replied Henri, with an air of nonchalance; " well, then, the fact is, we have had them so frequently of late that I am tired of them: one tires of everything after a time."

A deeper tint on the cheek of Hermanee, and a tear which trembled in her eye, might have told Henri that his last observation had given rise to some painful reflections in her mind. But, alas! both blush and tear were unnoticed by him, as he was busily engaged in discussing the filets de volaille.

"You do not eat, dear Hermance," said Henri at length, having done ample justice to the decried entrées "let me give you a little of this roti, it is very tender."

"It is only more unfortunate for that,"* replied Hermance, with a deep sigh; "but I cannot eat; and with difficulty she suppressed the tears that filled her eyes, while a smile stole over the lips of her husband at her sentimental reproach.

Hermance felt hurt at the smile, and offended, at observing that Henri continued to partake as copiously of the roti as he had previously done of the entrées. How

* The words used by a French lady to her husband on a similar occasion.

unfeeling, how indelicate, to continue to devour when she had refused to eat!

As soon as dinner was concluded, and the servants had withdrawn, Henri remarked, for the first time, that the eyes of his wife were dimmed with tears.

"How is this, dearest!" exclaimed he,-" you have been weeping-are you ill?" and he attempted to take her hand; but it was withdrawn, and her face averted, while she applied her handkerchief to her gushing eyes, as she wept with uncontrolled emotion. "Speak to me, I beseech you, Hermance!" continued Henri, endeavouring again to take her hand; "how have I offended you?"

"I see, I see it all, but too plainly," sobbed the weeping Hermance; "you no longer love me! I have observed your growing indifference day after day, and tried not to believe the cruel change; but now," and here her tears streamed afresh, "I can no longer doubt your fickle nature, when I hear you avow that you get tired of everything-which means every person; and this to me-to me, who, only a few weeks ago, you professed to adore! Oh! it is too cruel! why did I marry?" and here sobs interrupted her words.

"You wrong me! indeed you do, dear Hermance: I said one tires of things; but I never said, or meant, that one gets tired of persons. Come, this is childish; let me wipe these poor eyes ;" and he kissed her brow, while gently performing the operation.

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Then, why have you seemed so different of late ;" sobbed Hermance, letting him now retain the hand he pressed to his lips.

"In what has the difference consisted, dear love?" asked Henri.

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"You no longer seem delighted when I enter the room, or join you in the garden, after being absent half an hour." Half an hour!" reiterated Henri, with a faint smile. "Yes! a whole half hour," replied Hermance, placing an emphasis on the word "whole.” "You used to appear enchanted when I came into the salon, at Paris, and always flew to meet me. You never admire my dress now, though you were wont to examine and commend

all that I wore; and you doze while I am singing the songs which, a few weeks ago, threw you into ecstacies." Poor Hermance wept afresh at the recapitulation of the symptoms of her husband's growing indifference, while he soothed her with loving words and tender epithets.

Having in some measure reassured her, by his affectionate manner, harmony was again established; but the veil was removed from the eyes of both, never again to be resumed. They perceived that the love, unceasing and ecstatic, of which they had dreamt before their union, was a chimera existing only in imagination; and they awoke, with sobered feelings, to seek content in rational affection, instead of indulging in romantic expectations of a happiness that never falls to the lot of human beings : each acknowledging, with a sigh, that even in a marriage of love, the brilliant anticipations of imagination are never realized; that disappointment awaits poor mortals even in that brightest portion of existence-The Honey-moon.

GRACE FALKINER.

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BY THE AUTHOR OF CECIL HYDE," &c.

GRACE FALKINER was a moral phenomenon. She was an only child, a beauty, and, according to general belief, an heiress; but, strange to say, at the advanced age of oneand-twenty, her temper was unspoiled by indulgence, her head unturned by flattery, and her hand, as yet, unsolicited by any suitor whose petition could, for a moment, be entertained by those possessed of any influence or authority with its fair object.

This exemption from the natural consequences of her position, on three points of such importance, was not equally miraculous with respect to them all. As far as relates to the two first, it must certainly be considered as an extraordinary triumph of nature over education and circumstances; but, in the latter instance, it was referable to principles more easily explained, and more universally intelligible. Her beauty was beyond dispute; her brother-and-sister-less condition satisfactorily established; but her fortune,-"ay, there's the rub !"-was that algebraical abstraction, an unknown quantity: and, although reasoning by induction, inference, or analogy, may be perfectly admissible in metaphysics, politics, or morals,

those who are skilled in such matters are wisely of opinion, that the pretensions of an heiress can only be tested by a process little short of mathematical demonstration.

Alas! for the chilling influence of time, and the blighting effects of intercourse with the world, in the destruction of early hopes and youthful illusions!-When we start in life- or, at least, upon town-young, artless, un