"In common sense, you had better say. "" "No, Tom, in the most uncommon sense. But what kind of a scholar shall I make ?" Capital, I doubt not. You will surpass your teacher, ere long, I dare say. But tell me again, coz, is your heart really unpledged, untouched, as yet! "Entirely so. And putting her hand in his, as he rose to go, with that delicate confidingness of manner, that goes so directly to the heart, she added, "I have no secret for you, coz:" and, imprinting, unforbidden, a kiss on her fair cheek, he left her alone. 15* CHAPTER XV. "Think not of it, THY STATE IS NOT THYSELF. Shame seize me, if I would not rather be JOANNA BAILLIE. departure of her Both her hands, For some minutes after the cousin, Bell remained silent. (they, at least, in no-wise seemed to have any memory of the blacksmith's shop,) were clasped before her. There was an evident uneasiness in her thoughts, which, presently, took the form of soliloquy. "What a strange fellow that cousin is! He is forever drawing me into some difficulty; and always with a plausible reason!. Victor was handsome, intelligent, captivating; as all the girls knew; and I remember with quite sufficient distinctness. But what is all that now? He is a carpenter. He used to be aspiring. How can he have so little ambition? He must be changed. Tom says he is improved; but his opinion, in such matters, goes for nothing. I remember once he discovered the highest intellectual beauty, in a blind, itinerant fiddler ; at another time he went into raptures over the grace and elegance of a sweep; and I verily believe he was determined to make me in love with a young dray-man! Then he is so independent so entirely free from the prejudices that fetter other people. He is not fit for fashionable life. But this old beau-I have a great curiosity to see him! What if he should presume No, he will never think of renewing that childish partiality. Fie! I wonder if he will see any change in me!" and tossing off her curls again, and lifting her fine head with the air of a queen, she surveyed herself a moment in the pier glass opposite; and a wiser than she might be forgiven the brief exultation; for a fairer image has seldom been reflected in mortal habitation! Yet, most beautiful Isabella, yet art thou changed, and mournfully too even more than in the perfection of thine own lovely exterior. Truth and Nature, as in most instances, have not been quite sacrificed to Falsehood and Art; for there was too deep sincerity in thy.own truthful and loving heart, to be satisfied with the mere semblance of things; yet much is there of mockery, much that is quite hollow as the throned Monitor within, is continually telling thee. But the refining fire is coming to thee, also; when the chaff, and the tares, shall be burnt up together; until only the good wheat shall be left. Bella Thompson had really many frailties lurking in her sweet human nature; and if she were not quite spoiled, in having been the object of injudicious, almost unbounded indulgence, it only proves that genuine goodness, like Gold, is indestructible. for a lofty and noble - Nature meant her for a right truthful character; and although weak Indulgence, and idle Vanity, were not strong enough to overthrow -yet they thwarted the design. Our heroine was proud, dominating, perhaps vain, as a belle at twenty might naturally be. But enough of this; character is best shown in action. The evening came. Bell, without having made her toilet with unusual care, still kept finding the not perhaps unwonted thought, of how do I look ? strangely enough intruding upon her. Let us to the parlor. A magnificent grate, piled with glowing anthracite, gave an air of comfort to the richly furnished apartment. In a large, comfortable, lolling chair, sat Mr. Thompson, with one foot carefully de posited on an ottoman; for he was but just recovering from an attack of inflammatory rheumatism; or, as his lady would have it, the gout. He was a fine-looking old man, with the word of command, the power to shape destinies, written on his bold open brow. You could hardly think him more than seventy. On another ottoman, close by his well side, sat his daughter - his hope and idol - reading the last Review aloud to him. She was dressed like a little Quakeress, rather than a belle, so exquisitely neat was her attire a plain black silk dress, surmounted by a white muslin caped apron, trimmed with a narrow frill neatly crimped, made a costume particularly becoming to her finely rounded little figure, and fair complexion. One arm rested on a richly carved rose-wood table; while a large argand lamp threw its beauty-giving lustre on her fair cheek, and heightened the proud flush of her dark eye. On the other hand sat Aunt Augusta, a primlooking, lady-like personage, uneasy in mind, and restless in body, engaged in netting. Her few gray locks were mostly hidden by two large braids of false hair, (which False was a true symbol,) crowned by a large and elegantly wrought comb. You would set her down at a glance, as numbering herself among the ex |