know whether I did ought then as now, er had originally coned some duty to Mr. esolution was quickly zed upon. ed hurriedly, and I ut it was to the purthe grief that I was on to submit to a e what it would. I he would hear from nd often tempted, I ination. My letter suggested itself-how and I dared not wait my father should by nd forbid my sending ur o'clock, the village and the snow falling felt as if despatching my epistle was a matter of life and death; and hurrying on my bonnet and cloak, I hastened down stairs, through the glass door, along the shrubberies, and across the park, for I dared not venture by the road (though the shorter way) lest I should encounter my father. I was so excited that the obstacles of unswept paths, and the blinding snow which beat in my face were unregarded by me as I hurried on. "I was but just in time, and as I hastily thrust my letter into the box, my heart misI might have done very wrong in gave me. writing, after all-but it was gone. I could not recall it; then came the sad reflection, that it was the last; and now I felt as if I had not said half enough, that I had been too full of my own sorrow, and had not sympathised sufficiently with his feelings. "I regained my own room, panting and breathless, thankful that I had escaped a meeting with my father, whose horse, as I re-entered the house, I had seen led round to the stables. How my heart sank within me when, dressed the drawing-room; sual remark on the wchanged the aspect en the tones of my interminable, as I o play, I had hardly , and comply with the mental struggles s winter were imne human being to the subject. I had make friends of my en otherwise, I was dulge in young-lady eless bitterly did I e to enter into my n this great sorrow. as then alive, and I was in the habit of writing to her constantly, though somewhat formal letters, for she was ten years my senior, and had married while I was yet a child, and we had not now met for five years; even had it been otherwise, I could hardly have laid bare in writing the grief that gnawed my very heart away. "Since my mother's death, and the departure of my governess, I had been accustomed to be much alone, for, before his health began to fail, your grandfather and I never met save at formal meals, and in the evening. I was therefore entirely dependant upon my own resources for amusement, and till this period they had proved sufficient, and I had never experienced one moment's ennui. Now, books or work, music and drawing were equally distasteful to me; after nights of broken sleep, and hours of sad reflection, I rose listless, and unrefreshed, and without energy to strive for a more healthful frame of mind. I would sit with an open book in my hand for hours, lost in thought, and indulging in vain specula Trowbridge's feelings news of our divided ogether I would not to visit some aged Hits comforts, and abbath day, but my |