tleman, going down the street? I think he must be a stranger,-I do not recollect seeing him before."

To satisfy their own curiosity, and this inquiry, Miss Macdonald and Miss Barton rushed to the window, to the great amusement of a young man, who, though not apparently a dragoon, happened at that moment to be looking up at the window.

"I really do not know who that is," said Miss Macdonald, nothing daunted by his stare, and continuing to follow him with her eyes, till he was quite out of sight. "He appears to be a man of some fashion, and has something of a military air."

"Perhaps," said Miss Barton," it is Sir Thomas Lennox, who, I understand, is here at present. Mrs Smith tells me he has a very gay family, and that the young ladies are great beauties. Are you acquainted with them ?"

"Not personally," was the reply; "but I have heard of them." This was said with

a significant look, to stimulate curiosity, and promote further inquiry.

"What kind of character do they bear?" was Mrs Barton's next attempt to extract some intelligence.

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"I dare say, Mrs Barton," replied Miss Macdonald, " you know as well as I do, that in this world people generally have two or three characters; but it is our duty to believe the best, even though appearances may be sometimes against our friends. It is an ill-natured world, Mrs Barton, and I really think that backbiting and detraction are the besetting sins of the age; and I am sorry to say that P has not escaped the contagion. But I make a point of discouraging all such conversation. I really often wonder where all the false reports come from that one hears. Character is a precious thing, Mrs Barton; and people should not repeat all the evil they may chance to hear of their neighbour."

"Your remark is very just," said Mrs

Barton, not a little piqued that she could not pick the brains of Miss Macdonald, of the secrets of the Lennox family. "What you say is very true. It would be better for the world, Miss Macdonald, if every one were as free from evil speaking as you and I are. I wonder what pleasure people can find in prying into the concerns of their neighbours; but though it does seem very strange, I have met with folks who take a delight in watching the actions of others; for my part-Bless me, if there is not that young man back again: He seems looking for some house or other ;-he has rung at the door of the one opposite ;—he is let in. Pray, who lives there? It is no great credit to them to show such a hatred to light. I never could endure those odicus blinds. But who did you say lived there ?"

"Oh!" said Miss Macdonald, with a mysterious air, "I know now who that young man is. I am sure I cannot be mistaken. I thought he had a military air.

Yes, yes, it must just be he. The story made a great noise some time ago."

"A story!" exclaimed Miss Nancy. "Pray, what was it about ?"

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But," interrupted the inquisitive Mrs Barton," who is that coming out of the house ?"

"That,” replied Miss Macdonald,

"is

the brother of the lady who lives there, and the gentleman who went in just now, is her lover. 'Tis a romantic story, and far too long to give you in detail; but the cream of it is this: Miss Sinclair, who lives opposite, was long attached to the gentleman whom you saw just now, but he was not rich, and her father would not consent to their marriage; she would not marry without his consent, and her lover went off in a pet, and returned to his friends in England. I heard lately that an old rich uncle had died, leaving him his heir; and imagined he would take his revenge on Miss Sinclair, and never look near her again. I certainly never calculated on seeing him here so soon;

but really the luck of some people is surprising. I suppose the marriage will take place immediately. She had better make sure of him; for young men of fortune are not easily caught; nor, indeed," she added with a sigh, “men of any kind, in this degenerate age."

“Is she pretty ?" asked Miss Barton.

"She is thought so; but, for my part, I never saw any beauty about her. It requires more than a straight nose and a pair of dark eyes to make a beauty; and such airs as she gives herself; always wearing a huge bonnet and a thick veil, as if she were afraid that all the men would fall in love with her, because one silly fellow made such a ridiculous fuss."

"I wonder," said Miss Barton, "if he is going to stay there?"

"I suppose so,” replied Miss Macdonald; “for there is a trunk carrying in; and from the size of it, he seems to intend making a pretty long visit."

"What a handsome cloak," said Miss