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such a true heart to rest upon. I am proud of having been permitted to love him; and I trust and hope, that where he is, there is a place for me at his side!

"It was long ere my mother would hear of it; and when she saw I was firm, and would not relinquish my affection-I cannot, if I would, tell you how it grew, but it was no thing of a summer's day-it was longer before she would receive him with any decent courtesy. She had set her heart so upon seeing me a countess! But he bore with her humours as if he did not notice them-he, as keen sighted as a hawk. Well it is now all past and gone; but I cannot bear to think of those days-dear, happy days, though, some of them were-when we were left to ourselves, and he would sit and read to me for hours, as if he had not been a strong man and a soldier, and he would calm my angry spirit as if I had been a child-and talk of the future-glorious palaces in air we built! When I have seen other men since, and measured them with him . . . . . . O Lucy! there never was such another!

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"We were to be married-we should have been married, but for the sudden change made in every thing, in France, by Buonaparte's return from Elba. Frederick was, of course obliged to join his regiment. O, that first parting! I knew, as I held him in my arms, as I leant on his shoulder, that my hopes were destroyed for ever-that we should never meet again as we had met. I bore up, however, while he was with me, but I sunk,-how I sunk!— when I lost the last glimpse of his plume, and could not catch the sound of his horse's feet any longer. And my mother,she had begun to love him too, and showed her anxiety, now that he was gone, by her irritability-upbraided me

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with my depression. A fit wife for a soldier!' she would say. Alas! I had nothing of the hero in my composition. "We met again once more, God be thanked! in Brussels, just before the battle of Waterloo. We were at the ball together, when the dreadful news came. I think I never loved him so well, never enjoyed his society so much, as in the few brief hours we then spent together I remember every look, every word; and we danced together that very waltz, Lucy: —you now know why the hearing of it nearly killed me. And this was our last, last meeting, save on the death bed, and by the grave. How the parting went over, I forget; there was the hurry, and the excitement, and the holding up of the spirit, sick with fear, that he might not see me sad. He went-it is like a dream!--and the next days are like a dream, too. O! to listen to the firing, and to know that he was in the midst of it, and breathlessly to wait for the promised message, which came not;-and to feel as if time would never go over, and tidings never come;—and to see our daily meals brought in, and night come on, as usual,—and to gather up greedily any street-whisper,-and to go and ask the poorest, most unlikely people, for their news, in the desperate hope of finding the comfort of words, and to cling to that comfort. ...

"It came, at last it came !—I was sitting alone, the day but one after the battle, sure that the worst had happened, for that, had he been alive, he would have written to me, sent-I was sitting alone, in a darkened room, half stupified, half sleeping, I believe, for I had not closed my eyes for three nights. On a sudden I heard wheels in the street; I knew they came to me, and I covered my face, and tried

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to pray-I was right; there was a low knock at the door, and then the dull, huddling sound of feet, below first, and then ascending the stairs, and one voice, above the rest, giving directions. I fixed my eyes on my chamber door, expecting it would open; but the feet passed it, and I heard a voice say, he does not know where he is.' He was alive then! alive! and under our roof! I sprung up from the bed upon which I had flung myself, and restraining myself with a force not my own, crept softly towards the chamber to which they had borne him. I grew deadly sick on the threshold; but at last I mustered up my strength, and went in!

"The sight which I saw !—Merciful Heaven! that it could be he!-that maimed, broken, pale, bleeding.....

"I sate beside him all the night, his hand in mine; and I wiped his brow to the last, and I moistened his lips. He once called me by my name; and I knew when those dreadful pangs seized him, for then he drew his hand away, lest he should clench it suddenly and hurt me. My mother had been carried to bed in violent hysterics.

"It was when the dawn of morning was beginning to make the watchlight look red and sickly, that I felt the hand in mine grow cold, and the dew thicken on his brow; he was asleep, I thought; for, fool that I was! I hoped to the last! He was asleep ;—but it was the sleep of death!"

She paused for awhile, exhausted by the vehemence with which she had spoken; and the two were silent, for Lucy's tears were flowing too fast to permit her to speak.

"You know the rest," resumed Helen, yet more feebly than before" how my mother chose, within a fortnight after we laid him cold in the grave, to marry a Russian

officer, young enough to be her son; to accompany him to St. Petersburgh, and to abandon me in Paris; she said I might go and live en pension. You know, too, how by blessed chance my dear uncle found me out; and now you may know what have been my feelings since I have been here. I listen to love tales, when my heart was yearning for the dead!-Why, on that very evening when Lord Calder sat talking in the ante-room about some charm which should command dreams, when Alicia interrupted us, you may remember, I was thinking, in the superstition of my misery, of the possibility.... for though I have prayed and longed, and implored Heaven but to grant that one prayer, and let me look upon him again, if only in my sleep, I never dreamed of him till last night.-I could not have spoken of him if I had not seen him-if he had not promised me I could not have told you my tale. And now, dearest, dry your eyes. You must go down-nay, indeed you must, or my aunt will be displeased. I have told you all, for my own relief, and not to distress you; and you must think of me, when I am gone, hopefully and cheerfully.-Nay, I will say no more, then; but, indeed, I had better-I would rather be left for awhile; I have wearied myself with talking. Good night, my love, Heaven bless you, and send you a happy new year!"

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Towards midnight the faithful girl, whose heart had never left her cousin's side for a moment, stole up to her chamber, heedless of the sneers of her mother and sister, who felt reproached by her affection for their inmate, and were provoked by the sight of her splendid ornaments to insinuate that "Lucy knew what she was about”—“;

no bad

thing to humour a hypochondriac who had a jewel box at her elbow-for those who could stoop to it"—and the like.

Helen was still seated in the easy chair, just as Lucy had left her; for her attendant was sharing in the festivities of the evening, and at her last visit had been dismissed with an injunction not to come again till after midnight. But a glance assured the trembling and apprehensive girl, that the stillness of the invalid was not the quiet of sleep. The weary one was, indeed, at rest for ever, with a smile on her face, that told of a tranquil and joyful departure. In her hand (and she was buried thus) was found a small miniature of a young officer, the face full of life, spirit, and beauty; at the back of this miniature were two locks of hair and a faded myrtle leaf, and the words, traced in silver

"Frederick Ancram to Helen Lagarde,

"given to her on his and her
"twenty-first birth-day."

LINES

ADDRESSED TO A FAIR WHIG WHO ACCUSED HIM OF TORYISM.

BY LORD ASHTOWN.

YES! I confess myself a Tory,

While Beauty rules by right divine;
Submission is my pride and glory,
Command is yours-obedience mine.

Royal prerogatives belong

To all your sex-I'll tell you why-
The young and fair can do no wrong,
The old and ugly never die!

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