and-twenty shillings the dozen, were quaffed with the greatest gusto, by many a parched but pretty lip.

A dance was then proposed, and the band who had attended during the breakfast, were called upon to play quadrilles and waltzes; Stovasser, the master, a German by birth, was delighted at this opportunity of showing off his powers of composition, and the Desdemona galop, which was performed for the first time, and named by me after Miss Adelaide Castleton, to whom it was dedicated, proved a hit, and created the greatest sensation during the ensuing London season.

The day's amusement was wound up by a drive to Virginia Water, and mounted upon Charles de Moor, for such was the name Ada had given my charger, after the hero of one of Schiller's plays, I rode by the side of her carriage, imbibing intoxicating draughts ofshall I say infatuation, love or admiration?

I must leave the question to be answered by my readers, on one side was a young, lovely, unsophisticated girl, full of feeling and romance,

on the other, a vain stripling, carried away by a momentary weakness, to do that which his better nature would, on mature reflection, have shrunk from.

CHAPTER IV.

"In amore hæc omnia insunt vitia, injuria Suspiciones, inimicutiæ, induciæ."

TERENCE.

I must now for a while take leave of my own doings, and return to the Edgeware Road, where poor Mary was mourning over my lengthened absence, the play at Brampton Manor House had engrossed so much of my time, that I was unable to visit London, and day after day a hasty letter informed my wife of the cause of my detention in the country. Mr. Winterburn redoubled his exertions to console his daughter, and raise her from that despondency grief had plunged her in, but

hers was a sorrow past relief, it was the painful feeling of a neglected wife. Hour after hour would she sit with her darling boy, watching his innocent countenance, and paying him that devoted affection, none but a mother can bestow; and who except a parent can show that intense love, that unselfish attention, that unwearied patience, which characterizes a fond mother's love to her helpless progeny-the pallid cheek, the care-worn brow-proved how much Mary had suffered from watchful days and sleepless nights, and the quick pulsation of the heart, known alone to herself, was an unerring witness that her mind was ill at ease.

Affairs went on in this unsatisfactory manner, for (despite of her good resolutions to the contrary,) a feeling would force itself upon Mary's mind, that I had not acted openly upon the occasion of my unexplained absence from Windsor, when a letter arrived, which threw her into hopeless despair, the writer who professed to be a female friend, warned her against the fascinations of a celebrated actress who had inveigled Mr. Pembroke to disgrace

himself by appearing upon the public stage at the Gravesend theatre for her benefit; and concluded by assuring Miss Winterburn that her former admirer was entirely unworthy of any affection on her part, as while he was paying attention to the above named married woman, he was engaged to a young lady near Windsor.

As a matter of course, this anonymous epistle ended with an asseveration that the author of it, was influenced by the most kind and honourable motives, that of saving a young and innocent girl from the vile machinations of a heartless libertine, and a determined flirt.

The letter bore the Gravesend post mark, and in a postscript, challenged enquiry into the truth of the statement, adding that the name Mr. Pembroke assumed was Broke, and that his costume was hired from a fancy dress warehouse near Leicester Square. Mary was so completely overcome with this statement, which bore the stamp of truth upon it, that she at once determined to lay it before her