ed, nevertheless, on gaining admittance, he banged away at the door for full ten minutes; but finding this of no avail, he bawled out the landlord's name, and then let fly a handful of small stones and gravel against his bedroom windows. This had the desired effect, for presently the lattice was cautiously thrown open, and a man's head, enveloped in a worsted nightcap, thrust through the aperture. "Who's there?" enquired the landlord, in a peevish tone of voice full of sleep.

"Tis I," replied Miles. "And who the devil is I?” "A friend of Captain Capulet, Mr Waddilove of Wallington Lane, near Reading. I've been unexpectedly detained in the neighbourhood, and want some supper and a bed, for it's too late to think of returning home to-night." "Humph!-supper and a bed! You'll get neither the one nor the other here, so be off with you-I ain't going to open my door at this hour to fellows without a hat; you may be a thief for aught I know;"-and with these words, the landlord shut to the window.

Nothing daunted by this repulse, Miles discharged a second shower of gravel against the window, hoping by such means to bully the churl into a surrender. But he knew not the man he had to deal with; for no sooner had he taken aim for the third time against the casement, than it was again opened, and down came the saponaceous contents of a wash-hand basin on his head!

It was past one o'clock when a market-cart, laden with fruit and vegetables, stopped at Waddilove's door, and a gentleman descended from it, pale as the turnips among which he had been seated, shaking in every joint from excessive jolting, his clothes begrimed with dust, and a handkerchief tied about his head, looking as rumpled as though a quart of water had been but just wrung out of it. And this pitiable sample of humanity was Miles Waddilove, Esquire! Alas, how changed from that Miles quantum mutatus ab illo Hectore!—

who but eight hours before had left his home, smiling and sunny, in all the consciousness of a captivating costume! He had met the cart as he was crawling, snail-like, along the main road, after leaving Caversham bridge, and had bargained with the driverwho was on his way to Reading, to be in time for the morrow's marketfor a seat among his vegetables, by way of a dignified finale to his walk of upwards of ten miles, and the mishaps consequent upon it.

After his recognition by his housekeeper, which was a task of no ordinary difficulty, Miles hurried into his study, and throwing himself on a sofa, ordered up all the cold meat in the pantry, made a prodigious supper, which he washed down with a bottle of his very oldest Madeira, and then plunged into bed, where he soon fell into the soundest sleep ever, perhaps, enjoyed by a sedentary gentleman on the shady side of forty. Had he taken laudanum, or, what is equivalent to laudanum, subjected himself to the perusal of Doctor Bowring's edition of Bentham, his slumber could not possibly have been more profound. When he rose at a late hour next day, in a state of more vigorous health, bating a slight stiffness in his limbs, than he had known for some months, he found his medical man waiting for him in the breakfast parlour, whom he instantly acquainted with all the sufferings he had undergone on the preceding night. To his great astonishment, the apothecary, so far from condoling with him on his involuntary peripatetic achievements, had actually the hardihood to congratulate him; and even went the length of assuring him that—notwithstanding his fatigues and vexations-he might consider himself a very lucky fellow, inasmuch as the walk, by giving a wholesome stimulus to his nervous system, and producing a corresponding energy of action in the blood, had most likely saved him from an attack of hypochondriacism, thereby exemplifying the truth of the old adage-"out of evil cometh good."

"I WISH it were all over, and we safe back again here," said Mr Hartwell to his good lady, as they sat at a breakfast parlour window of the family seat in which he was born, and overlooked his own park and the pleasant country beyond.

Really, my dear," observed Mrs Hartwell in reply," to confess the truth to you, I do sometimes fancy that I wish the very same thing; but still I am quite sure that we must have a very great deal of enjoyment during our tour. Only think with what delight all our neighbours speak of the different places they have seen, while we can only sit and listen, and have nothing to say."

"Ah, well!" sighed Mr Hartwell, "the die is cast; and so, go we must, I suppose now, though for my part I care no more about foreign places nor foreigners than they care about me."

"As to that, my dear, I don't suppose we differ much; but then you know we must see them, or else we cannot say so."

"If there was any chance of being believed, I really think I could stretch a point and say so' without going, as a queer old gentleman recommended to his son, rather than risk his neck by descending into a coal-pit."

The good lady laughed; and then, for the five hundredth time, alluded to the advantages their daughter Jane would derive from the trip, though her notions of their precise nature and extent were by no means very distinct. How many English of late years have toiled and travelled about the Continent with the same odd inducements! In the library under the same roof, two younger persons were conversing upon the same topic.

"I certainly am pleased at the idea of going abroad," said Jane Hartwell, "I will not for a moment deny it. Indeed, as society now is, a tour forms part of one's-what shall I call it ?— finishing' my good governess might have said;-but you understand me, I'm sure and so, grave sir," she added, while a playful light sparkled

in her bright black eyes, "you may expect, when you meet us at Paris on our return, to find me quite a different sort of person."

"I trust not," replied Edward Drayton, mournfully; "no, no, Jane! remain what you are! I would not have you changed-no, not in any respect."

"Thank you, Edward, that's very flattering. Well, well, I believe you, notwithstanding; but hark ye, sir, 'changed' is a word of strong import, when spoken with foreboding tone, and a countenance so dismal as that which I have the honour-nay, don't be so very sensitive!-I mean the pleasure of seeing before me,-I don't like the word changed.' It implies suspicion, and you, less than all others, ought to make use of it to me, whom you have known so long ;" and she added reproachfully, "you cannot seriously imagine that a few months' absence from home can, by any possibility, effect a change worth speaking of in my character, my sentiments, or my feelings."

"No, dear Jane, I will not; but I cannot look calmly forward to the six long dreary months of separation, when you will be I know not where, and associated with I know not whom."

"Why, really, my good gentleman, you talk as if I was going to undertake an expedition into the interior of Africa, among savages, instead of travelling over roads, along which, hundreds of our own acquaintance have passed before us; and among people who claim to be even more civilized and polite than ourselves.'

"If I were but permitted to write to you, Jane!"

"Hush, hush, Edward! be content; let us keep one of our promises unbroken, at least. As for the other". and she hesitated and blushed.

"It is unbroken, dearest Jane!Do not imagine that any thing you may have chanced to say in the con. fidence of our friendship, as to what you might be prevailed on to do un

der different circumstances-do not suppose that I will allow you-I mean, myself to receive, or you to commit -No, no,-think not of it; you are free."

The language of the eyes cannot be transferred to paper; but hers were most eloquent as she smiled and looked up in his face, and said:

"That is poor sophistry, Edward! But let it pass. There is my hand once more! What I have said, I will never retract. We understand each other ;" and her head sank upon his shoulder.

"Dear, generous, noble-minded girl!" he exclaimed." Yes, yes, I ought to be, and I will be, content!"

It need scarcely be said that these young people were lovers; but a few words are necessary to explain their position at this juncture.

Edward Drayton had "spoken to the old folks" some months before; and the result of his passionate representations and protestations, and their calm deliberations and consultations, was, that they pronounced the young folks to be too young to think seriously, or judge correctly, upon a subject of so great importance. This decision, of course, appeared exceedingly ridiculous to the young gentleman, who was then within a few months of the completion of his twentieth year. But the elders were inexorable; and he was compelled to pledge his word of honour that he would neither correspond with the young lady when ab

sent, nor urge his suit when present, nor receive or exchange any promises from, or with her, until the expiration of his minority. This was an unpalatable exaction; but as the only alternative was strict exclusion from the roof beneath which she dwelt, he submitted with indifferent grace, and so was permitted to pay occasional friendly visits during the vacations, as he was now pursuing his studies at Oxford.

Similar restrictions were placed upon Jane; and it was understood by all parties, that, if all parties continued to be of the same mind at the end of the period of probation—then, and not till then, the matter was to be taken into more serious consideration.

How completely the young people had acted up to the letter, if not to the spirit, of this engagement, has been already seen; and the elders were perfectly satisfied with the wisdom and propriety of their arrangement.

Under these circumstances they separated. The young gentleman returned to Oxford to complete his terms, and Mr and Mrs Hartwell and their daughter went upon the Continent; and, erelong, discovered that all the places and things which they were desirous of saying they had seen, could not possibly be seen in six months. When that period had ex. pired, they were at Geneva, in the pleasant month of October.

"It may sound like a contradiction, my dear Charlotte," said Jane Hartwell to a young lady with whom she was walking beneath the trees of an elevated promenade' called 'La Treille,' but certainly so it is. The last six months have passed away most rapidly, and yet I feel as if I had been very much longer away from England."

"Well, I'm no philosopher, but I suppose the latter feeling comes over you when thinking of a certain person," observed Miss Byrne, who from a chance acquaintance had become an intimate, and then a confidential friend, merely because her father and self had been travelling over the same ground as our tourists, and, conse

quently, they were frequently thrown together.

"No, no! It is not that!" exclaimed Jane, rather hastily. "I wish you would not be always teasing me about such nonsense!"

"Well, well! Then it sha'n't be teased," said Charlotte, playfully. "But, if it is not that, I'm sure I can't tell what it is."

"Then I think I can," observed Jane, in an unusually serious tone. "I have been questioning myself very closely, as my good governess taught me in former days, and I am not satisfied with the result."

Why, my dear girl! what can you mean? You, who are all goodness and innocence !"

"No, no, Charlotte! we have lived a strange and hurried life lately. I have had no time to think, but I remember how much I was at first shocked by the general profanation of the Sabbath, the dreadful oaths I heard, and the many things daily occurring in our journeys so revolting to our English notions."

"Call them prejudices, dear Jane, and say no more about them."

"That is exactly what I have done, Charlotte; and I am not satisfied. Yesterday was the first Sunday that we have attended any service since we left Paris; and, even when we were there, how was the rest of the day spent? The manners and customs of the people here are more like our own, and what I heard yesterday reminded me of home, and made it seem very long since I last entered our quiet little church, which we used to attend so regularly; and it seemed to me that I was separated from home not only by absence of body, but in spirit. I feel that I am changed, or else how could I have seen and heard, so calmly as I often have done, things which at first shocked me?"

Why, my dear friend, if we could make all the people do exactly as we wished, there's no doubt but they would all be a great deal better than they are; but, since we cannot, it does not seem worth while to be triste about the matter. Chacun à son gout, as the French say. The people here may shut up their shops on a Sunday; but they are as shocking cheats as any of the rest, I know. There was that diamond crescent haircomb of mine that was to be but, la! only look! Yes, that's the handsome German count that was with us at Chamouni! He sees us, too, and is coming this way; and there is another gentleman with him-who can he be? Il a bonne mine, at all events."

The two gentlemen joined them, and talked as fluent nonsense as any two young ladies would desire to hear,

during their promenade; and when they separated, Miss Byrne volunteered, for her friend's edification, a comparison between the elegant politeness of foreign manners and those of England, by no means favourable to the latter.

"And yet," thought Jane, "how impertinently intrusive and embarrassing would all that I have been listening to for the last hour have appeared, if addressed to me when I first landed at Calais! Has it annoyed me now? No, quite the contrary. Therefore I must be changed.

Major Byrne and his daughter dined with the Hartwells that day; and, in the evening, the worthy squire was introduced to a "cercle," where he passed several hours very agreeably at whist; so pleasantly, indeed, that he declared he almost forgot that he was abroad. For this treat he was indebted to the Major, who had travelled much, and seemed perfectly at home wherever he went; and, sooth to say, Mr Hartwell, whose habits were somewhat convivial, was right glad of his acquaintance, for of sightseeing he had long been heartily tired, and would generally, on their arrival in a town, enquire, with an almost imploring yawn, "Well, I hope there's nothing to be seen here?"

The "cercle" was, of course, revisited, and its delights might have determined him to pass the winter in Geneva, had not their course been previously decided on in family debates, too long for detail, but the result of which was, an utter abandonment of the original limits of six months to their tour. They were now on their way to Italy.

"I am so glad we are going from this dull place," said Charlotte Byrne to her father, as they were leaving Geneva. "If we had remained here much longer, I do think that Jane would have turned methodist; and that would have been a pity, for she was going on so well before! Scarcely one foolish prejudice left.

Another half year had elapsed, and it was on the day after a splendid ball and entertainment given by Torlonia (the banking duke), when Jane Hartwell sat in her boudoir alone. There

was a flush upon her cheeks, and a restlessness in her dark sparkling eyes and quick occasional movements, that indicated all not to be quite at ease within.

"Le Comte de Marberg!" said an Italian valet, throwing open the door. "Giacomo! Did I not tell you?" she exclaimed faintly; but, ere the words had passed her lips, the door was closed, and the person announced was in her presence, apologising incoherently, but with an almost reverential air, for his intrusion.

Such an intrusion would indeed have alarmed and perplexed the unsophisticated daughter of Hartwell Hall a year earlier but she had since seen ladies receive visiters of the other sex even in their chambers, and had "assisted" at numerous gay and frivolous parties of every description.

She was now an altered person, and, instead of being over-fastidious, had begun to abandon herself to that latitudinarian" insouciance" of manners and conduct by which our fair countrywomen so frequently astonish foreigners. Possibly her feelings might be somewhat similar to those of a new convert to some sect, who imagines himself bound to evince, on every occasion, his utter contempt of all his former errors and prejudices, by going somewhat farther than the more regularly initiated.

Be such matters as they may, the Comte Henri de Marberg (the same "handsome German" whom they had met at Chamouni) and Jane Hartwell were, in less than a minute after his entrance, engaged in a volatile tête àtéte," which continued for half-anhour, during which time they "talked over" the last night's party. Then another half-hour was spent in a conversation much more interesting to both, but with the detail of which we shall not meddle till the expiration of the said second half-hour, when Jane said, "Now, really, if you wish us to remain friends, you must not continue to plague me with such nonsense. have told you frankly that I do not mean to change my situation."

I

"But, lovely Jane, it cannot be always so. Your beauty and good sense and accomplishments will ever make you to be surrounded with flatterers and adorers, and I am sure you have a heart formed for"

"Heigho! I'm sure I don't know what it was formed for!" exclaimed Jane, in a tone that appeared compounded of a sigh and a yawn; but there was no time to consider which predominated, for the moment after

she continued, in high spirits: "but, 'a propos des botes,' you have not told me how you contrived to find your way here, when I ordered Giacomo to show all visiters to my father into the salon, and to say that I was not at home. You perceive that he has announced no one else, and some of my other partners must have called."

"Charmante étourdie!" exclaimed the Comte, gazing upon her with an expression which would formerly have discomposed her utterly, but at which she now smiled, and merely bade him proceed. So he informed her that her father had been somewhat unlucky at cards, when playing with a Russian nobleman and Major Byrne, in the early part of the previous night, and that probably on that account he had been induced to partake rather freely of the choice wines that were so abundant at the supper tables.

"After that," said the Comte," he had some more play, and, as he was at the table with one of the bankers' re.. latives, no doubt as they took care he should not be obliged to ask many times for refreshments, and so he did not come home till long after I had the honour and felicity to hand you to the Comtesse's carriage, and now-that is -just now, when I come, he is not up. So I said, never mind, Giacomo, your young mistress will do as well, and I know she is at home and expects me, which must be the truth, because I am sure you cannot suppose as I would let the morning pass without calling to ask how you have recovered from your fatigue. And now I have asked you that, and something else"

"Ah, méchant! Do you dare, after I have forbidden you?" exclaimed Jane, interrupting, with a playful air of authority. "Let us have no more of that, for the present at all events, or I shall positively hate the sight of you. There! Get along with you, do, you good-for-nothing creature; unless you feel inclined for a little music this morning, and then you may go into the salon and wait till I come," and she left the room laughing.

"Twenty thousand English livres sterling! Cela en veut bien la peine!" muttered the Comte when left to himself; and of course he descended to the salon.

At the time of the above conversation, Mr Hartwell was sitting alone over his coffee and eggs, in a frame of