her hand softly on his shoulder, and poured hot
passion in his ear. "Alfred," she murmured,
"we are both unhappy; let us comfort one
another. I had pity on you at Silverton House, I
pity you now: pity me a little in turn; take me
out of this dreadful house, out of this revolting
life, and let me be with you. Let me be your
housekeeper, your servant, your slave. This
news that has shocked you so has torn the veil
from my eyes; I thought I had cooled my love
down to friendship and tender esteem; but no,
now I see you as unhappy as myself, now I can
speak and wrong no one, I own—I oh Alfred
my heart burns for you, bleeds for you, yearns
for you, sickens for you, dies for you."

"Oh, hush! hush! Mrs. Archbold. You are
saying things you will blush for the next
moment."

"I blush now, but cannot hush; I have gone
too far. And your happiness as well as mine is
at stake. No young girl can understand or value
such a man as you are: but I, like you, have
suffered; I, like you, am constant; I, like you,
am warm and tender; at my age a woman's love
is bliss to him who can gain it; and I love you
with all my soul, Alfred; I worship the ground
you walk on, my sweet, sweet boy. Say you the
word, dearest, and I will bribe the servants, and
get the keys, and sacrifice my profession for ever
to give you liberty (see how sweet the open face
of nature is, sweeter than anything on earth, but
love); and all I ask is a little, little of your heart
in return. Give me a chance to make you mine
for ever; and, if I fail, treat me as I shall deserve;
desert me at once; and then I'll never reproach
you; I'll only die for you; as I have lived for you
ever since I first saw your heavenly face."

The passionate woman paused at last, but her
hot cheek and heaving bosom and tender convulsive
hand prolonged the pleading.

I am afraid few men of her own age would have
resisted her, for voice and speech and all were
burning, melting, and winning: and then, so
reasonable, lads; she did not stipulate for constancy.

But Alfred turned round to her blushing and
sorrowful. "For shame!" he said; "this is not
love: you abuse that sacred word. Indeed, if
you had ever really loved, you would have pitied
me and Julia long ago, and respected our love;
and saved us by giving me my freedom long ago.
I am not a fool: do you think I don't know that
you are rny jailer, and the cunningest and most
dangerous of them all?"

"You ungrateful wretch," she sobbed.

"No; I am not ungrateful either," said he,
more gently. "You have always come between
me and that kind of torture which most terrifies
vulgar souls; and I thank you for it. Only, if
you had also pitied the deeper anguish of my
heart, I should thank you more still. As it is, I
forgive you for the share you have had in blasting
my happiness for life; and nobody shall ever
know what you have been mad enough in an
unguarded moment to say; but for pity's sake talk
no more of love, to mock my misery."

Mrs. Archbold was white with ire long before
he had done this sentence. "You insolent
creature," said she; "you spurn my love; you
shall feel my hate."

"So I conclude," said he, coldly: "such love
as yours is hard by hate."

"It is," said she: "and I know how I'll combine
the two. To-day I loved you, and you
spurned me; ere long you shall love me and I'll
despise you; and not spurn you."

"I don't understand you," said Alfred, feeling
rather uneasy.

"What," said she; "don't you see how the
superior mind can fascinate the inferior? Look
at Frank Beverley; how he follows you about
and fawns on you, like a little dog."

"I prefer his sort of affection to yours."

"A gentleman and a man would have kept
that to himself; but you are neither one nor the
other; or you would have taken my offer, and
then run away from me the next day, you fool.
A man betrays a woman; he doesn't insult her.
Ah, you admire Frank's affection; well, you shall
imitate it. You couldn't love me like a man; you
shall love me like a dog."

"How will you manage that, pray?" he
inquired, with a sneer.

"I'll drive you mad."

She hissed this fiendish threat out between her
white teeth.

"Ay, sir," she said, "hitherto your reason has
only encountered men. You shall see now what
an insulted woman can do. A lunatic you shall
be ere long, and then I'll make you love me, dote
on me, follow me about for a smile: and then
I'll leave off hating you, and love you once more,
but not the way I did five minutes ago."

At this depraved threat Alfred ground his teeth,
and said: "Then I give you my honour that the
moment I see my reason the least shaken, I'll kill
you: and so save myself from the degradation of
being your lover on any terms."

"Threaten your own sex with that," said the
Archbold, contemptuously; "you may kill me
whenever you like; and the sooner the better.
Only, if you don't do it very quickly, you shall
be my property; my brain-sick, love-sick, slave."

APPARITIONS.

THE aerial phenomena known as the mirage
and the Fata Morgana, as well as spectral illusions
arising from morbid conditions of the mind,
are now classed under the term apparitions.
Supernatural appearances in the air, particularly
at sea, early gave rise to those superstitions
which prevailed respecting phantom ships; and
aerial spectres, such as those seen on the Brocken,
the loftiest of the Hartz Mountains in the
Hanoverian States, were long associated with
the marvellous. The giant of that range is
merely the image of a man on the summit, seen
at sunrise, raised into gigantic proportions by
reflexion from the clouds above. The traveller
has even seen his own shadow, moving as a