cushion for his fellow-traveller on the cart-seat.
Shivering in the sharp morning air, Magdalen
waited, while the preliminaries of departure were
in progress, conscious of nothing but a giddy
bewilderment of thought, and a helpless
suspension of feeling. The events of the night
confused themselves hideously, with the trivial
circumstances passing before her eyes in the
court-yard. She started with the sudden terror
of the night, when old Mazey reappeared to
summon her out to the cart. She trembled with
the helpless confusion of the night, when the
veteran cast the eyes of indulgence on her for
the last time, and gave her a kiss on the cheek
at parting. The next minute, she felt him help
her into the cart, and pat her on the back. The
next, she heard him tell her in a confidential
whisper that, sitting or standing, she was as
straight as a poplar, either way. Then there
was a pause, in which nothing was said, and
nothing done; and then the driver took the reins
in hand, and mounted to his place.

She roused herself at the parting moment, and
looked back. The last sight she saw at St. Crux,
was old Mazey wagging his head in the courtyard,
with his fellow-profligates, the dogs, keeping
time to him with their tails. The last words
she heard, were the words in which the veteran
paid his farewell tribute to her charms:—

"Burglary, or no burglary," said old Mazey,
"she's a fine-grown girl, if ever there was a fine
one yet. What a pity! what a pity!"

THE END OF THE SEVENTH SCENE.

BETWEEN THE SCENES.

I.

FROM GEORGE BARTRAM TO ADMIRAL BARTRAM.

"London, April 3rd, 1848.

"My dear Uncle,— One hasty line, to inform
you of a temporary obstacle which we neither of
us anticipated when we took leave of each other
at St. Crux. While I was wasting the last days
of the week at the Grange, the Tyrrels must
have been making their arrangements for leaving
London. I have just come from Portland-place.
The house is shut up; and the family (Miss
Vanstone, of course, included) left England yesterday,
to pass the season in Paris.

"Pray don't let yourself be annoyed by this
little check at starting. It is of no serious
importance whatever. I have got the address at
which the Tyrrels are living; and I mean to
cross the Channel, after them, by the mail
tonight. I shall find my opportunity in Paris,
just as soon as I could have found it in London.
The grass shall not grow under my feet, I promise
you. For once in my life, I will take Time as
fiercely by the forelock, as if I was the most
impetuous man in England—and, rely on it, the
moment I know the result, you shall know the
result too.—Affectionately yours,

"GEORGE BARTRAM."

II.

FROM GEORGE BARTRAM TO MISS GARTH.

"Paris, April 13th.

"Dear Miss Garth,—I have just written, with
a heavy heart, to my uncle; and I think I owe
it to your kind interest in me, not to omit
writing next to you.

"You will feel for my disappointment, I am
sure, when I tell you, in the fewest and plainest
words, that Miss Vanstone has refused me.

"My vanity may have grievously misled me;
but I confess I expected a very different result.
My vanity may be misleading me still—for I
must acknowledge to you privately, that I think
Miss Vanstone was sorry to refuse me. The
reason she gave for her decision—no doubt a
sufficient reason in her estimation— did not at the
time, and does not now, seem sufficient to me.
She spoke in the sweetest and kindest manner;
but she firmly declared that 'her family misfortunes'
left her no honourable alternative, but
to think of my own interests, as I had not
thought of them myself—and gratefully to
decline accepting my offer.

"She was so painfully agitated, that I could
not venture to plead my own cause, as I might
otherwise have pleaded it. At the first attempt
I made to touch the personal question, she
entreated me to spare her, and abruptly left the
room. I am still ignorant whether I am to
interpret the 'family misfortunes' which have set
up this barrier between us, as meaning the
misfortune for which her parents alone are to blame
—or the misfortune of her having such a woman
as Mrs. Noel Vanstone for her sister. In whichever
of these circumstances the obstacle lies, it
is no obstacle in my estimation. Can nothing
remove it? Is there no hope? Forgive me for
asking these questions. I cannot bear up against
my bitter disappointment. Neither she, nor you,
nor any one but myself, know how I love her.

"Ever most truly yours,

"GEORGE BARTRAM.

"P.S.—I shall leave for England in a day or
two, passing through London, on my way to St.
Crux. There are family reasons, connected with
the hateful subject of money, which make me
look forward, with anything but pleasure, to my
next interview with my uncle. If you address
your letter to Long's Hotel, it will be sure to
reach me."

III.

FROM MISS GARTH TO GEORGE BARTRAM.

"Westmorland House, April 16th.

"Dear Mr. Bartram,—You only did me
justice in supposing that your letter would distress
me. If you had supposed that it would make
me excessively angry as well, you would not
have been far wrong. I have no patience with
the pride and perversity of the young women of
the present day.

"I have heard from Norah. It is a long
letter, stating the particulars in full detail. I am
now going to put all the confidence in your
honour and your discretion which I really feel.
For your sake, and for Norah's, I am going to
let you know what the scruple really is, which