forgotten the whole affair,"-which, in truth, I had not, nor any one incident that ever occurred during my unconscious courtship of my darling wife.

It is curious how the minutest circumstances are registered in the mind, with which the object of our affections is in any degree connected. I remember, as well as if it were but yesterday, while walking with Harriet and her father, and her little sister, in their gay and blooming garden, I gathered a beautiful half-budded rose. I placed it in the button-hole of my coat, and walked on, talking as we had been talking before; nor was it till my eyes rested for a moment on those of Harriet that I felt a conviction of my selfishness, and conscious that she had expected I was gathering it for her, and that she had been disappointed when I appropriated it to myself. Now, absurd as it may seem, although I never have so far betrayed my weakness as to mention this trifling circumstance to her, I never, to this moment, think of it without regret and discontent.

"Come to luncheon, dear," said I. "Cuthbert is there, and I left him somewhat abruptly; for I was vexed."

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"Gilbert, dearest," said Harriet, leaning on my arm, and looking in my face with an ingenuousness neither to be affected nor mistaken, never, never be vexed about anything in which I am concerned. Believe me, I am too happy to make your happiness; and as for all this matter, what does it signify whether I went to-day to make my visit or whether I go to morrow? Promise me, dear love, to let nothing of this sort put you the least out of the way."

Could I help kissing her white forehead, and pressing her to my heart? I think I should have gone the length of kissing her rosy lips had not her maid come into the room at the moment, to say that Mr. Cuthbert had sent up word by Hutton that he and Sniggs were waiting for us. There it was again!-not even master of five minutes. Sniggs, indeed!

66

Come, dear," said I to Harriet; and down stairs we went and there we found the late antagonists making common cause in a servile war upon some grilled and minced fowl, Cuthbert having, under medical advice, fallen to, lest he should lose the appetite which the smell of the diablerie of my ingenious cook had excited. The sight of luncheon immediately brought to my mind the peculiar awkwardness of Mrs. Brandyball's appearance at the Rectory, with her two sparkling satellites, on a morning which, from what Harriet had told me, seemed to be "big with the fate of Merman and of Fan."

While I was helping dear Harriet to "the least bit of cold chicken in the world," the servant brought me a note. I opened and read it. Its contents were, to me, convincing that I had not mistaken my Lieutenant. I threw it across the table to Harriet, who ran her eyes over it, and returned it, saying only "Well," which I myself have a habit of saying upon many occasions when it would not be well to say anything more. The contents of the note were these lines :

"DEAR SIR,-I regret that a compulsory visit to London this afternoon will prevent my having the pleasure of dining with you to-day, as I had proposed. "Yours, very truly, "J. MERMAN." "That's odd, Harry," said I, as I jerked off the wing of the chicken. "Yes," said Harriet, "very odd indeed, considering."

"I am not sorry," said I, cutting her the thinnest imaginable slice of ham, “even if it be as I suppose from this."

"I am," replied my wife, "for her sake"

"It is for her sake," answered I, "that I am not.”

"Is that an invitation?" said Cuthbert.

“No,” said I; “on the contrary, a refusal of one."

"Oh!" continued he; "because I hear that some lady-I did hear her name, but, ah dear, I forget-is going to give a juvenile fancy ball, and I was going to ask if you knew her-Hutton can't tell me-because I think my little girls would-ah, wouldn't they like to go, if they were invited ?"

"There is to be a thing of the sort," said Sniggs, "at Mrs. Trigley's, I believe. Tall woman, in a green bonnet-sits opposite the churchwardens-amiable person-subject to jaundice-had a slight touch of epilepsy about four years since-nice house for the purpose-bad aspect -dampish-I take it-rather troubled with sciatica."

"And when is this to be?" said I.

"I think in about a fortnight," said Sniggs.

"We don't know her," said Harriet.

"I think," said Cuthbert, "Bessy Wells told Kate that the Wells's know her; and so I said, if she could manage it, she and Jane might go; and Kate was saying something of having a little thing of the sort here. I believe Mr. Kittington, the dancing-master, put it into her head first; of course these people are anxious to show off their pupils to the best advantage."

I could not stand this, so I made no reply; but only said "Well " again, and drank a glass of wine.

I saw Harriet looked worried and vexed at Merman's note, which it was clear to me she considered the avant courier of some unpleasant family news. She was evidently engrossed with her own thoughts and left us as soon as she possibly could.

There is something like prescience, something intuitively quick about women when matters connected with these affaires de cœur come under their notice. It might, to be sure, have been, in this instance, that Fanny had made her sister to a certain degree her confidante. What struck me was, that my reverend father-in-law had been drawing matters to a conclusion with the Lieutenant, but having chosen the morning rather than the evening for the conference, the result had not been quite so successful as that of our winding-up conversation upon a probably similar topic.

Fanny returned to Ashmead between four and five o'clock, and hurried unseen to Harriet's sanctum, and when I saw my poor little wife again I saw she had been crying. She begged me to excuse her to Mrs. Brandyball for her absence from dinner on the plea of indisposition-the fact being, that she and Fanny intended to devote the rest of the day to talking over the important events of the morning.

Mrs. Brandyball returned alone in the carriage-the independent Kate having accepted for herself and her sister an invitation from Bessy Wells to stay at the Rectory and pass the evening, which could be perfectly well managed, and without any inconvenience, inasmuch as they could come home in the carriage which would be sent to fetch the Rector, who was to dine with us.

Our fair guest was profuse in her expressions of admiration of the

neighbourhood, of the Rectory, of the Wells's, of my horses, of my phaeton, of Kitty's driving, and, in short, of everything in any way connected with us; for it struck me that her great object was to "butter" Cuthbert, to whom she looked up as a patron at least; nor was I without some slight suspicion that in her disinterested remarks about his visit to the neighbourhood of her seminary, she even carried her intentions the whole length of succeeding to the maternal control of the young ladies by a nearer and dearer claim than that of their go

verness.

"Have you sent for Sniggs?" said Cuthbert to me.

"No-why?" asked I.

"I thought," said my brother-"I may be mistaken-but I thought you said Harriet was unwell. Wouldn't it be better-eh-to-don't you think———”

"Oh no," replied I; "her illness is not of a serious character. I rather think she and her sister have something to talk over.”

"We saw Miss Fanny at the Rectory," said Mrs. Brandyball, "and Mr. Merman was there. I asked him if he were to be of our domestic circle here to-day; but he replied with an unusual degree of abruptness, that he was engaged elsewhere. Vanity makes men ridiculous-pride, odious. I know the Lieutenant is a great favourite here; but his manner to-day was not so gracious as it is ordinarily wont to be."

"He has written to me," said I, " to tell me he has been obliged to go to London."

“Ah, poor man, I pity him," said the lady; "the city for wealth, the country for health; and whatever allurements the society of the metropolis may display to the youthful mind, the calm repose of the umbrageous grove, overhanging the limpid stream, has in it a charm for delicate minds which is not to be found in busier scenes."

"You are quite right, Ma'am," said Cuthbert; "what can be more delightful? I often get Hutton to wheel me down to the edge of our little river here, and make him throw bits of bread into the water, and there I sit sometimes by the hour together watching the fish come and eat it. I used to fish myself; but a rod is such a heavy thing to hold, so I get Hutton sometimes to stand by me and fish for me, but he seldom catches anything, which is perhaps all for the best; for the hook we know must hurt the fish; besides which, it is so much trouble to take it off, if one does catch one, and put a fresh bait on, that what is called good sport flurries me-and as for crowds-oh, dear! dear !-nobody can like a crowd except a pickpocket."

"How imaginative your brother's mind is!" said Mrs. Brandyball to me, looking quite seraphic. "I really believe that those who have resided in oriental climes, catch, as it were, that inspiration which seems to imbue the poetry of those regions."

I made a sort of assenting noise; but quite aware of my inferiority, and looking upon Mrs. B. as a sort of petticoated Sir William Jones, did not venture to offer the slightest remark upon the authors to whom she alluded, and with whom she was of course intimately acquainted.

It seemed clear to me, however, that as the Lieutenant had bolted, and my two ladies intended dining by themselves, and Cuthbert's two ladies had betaken themselves to the Rectory, that Cuthbert, Wells, and I should have the pleasure of Mrs. Brandyball's company all to ourselves, the which I did not very much dislike, inasmuch as Wells was

just the man to draw her out, and thus afford me an opportunity of judging of her intellectual qualities, so that I might at some subsequent period discuss with Cuthbert the propriety or impropriety of keeping the girls at her school.

We parted to dress, and I of course visited my darling Harriet. As I suspected the Lieutenant had behaved shabbily. Wells's sober arguments with respect to Fanny and his attachment had failed. The Reverend general-the church-militant-had been defeated. Merman had money, expectations, and a maiden aunt, which maiden aunt had, it seems, some five-and-twenty thousand pounds, the bulk of which was to become the property of her nephew, provided he married a Miss Malony, who was her protégée. There were several very extraordinary rumours about the cause of the interest which this young person created in old Miss Merman's heart-none of which I shall set down, because the characters of cardinals and old maids are sacred, and nobody ought to say one word about them; however, it was altogether a mystery, into which it appeared the Lieutenant had only been recently admitted by the elder lady of the two.

The scene up-stairs was not agreeable; poor Fanny was crying. I believe she really had, under her Papa's sanction, worked herself into a liking for the Lieutenant. I tried to like him as a friend-as an acquaintance even-but I never could achieve it, and I ventured to suggest the drying up of her tears; but women are such kind, tender, affectionate creatures, that my advice was wasted. What she ever saw in the man I never could myself discover. However, he is gone. I am sorry for Fanny, but delighted as far as I am myself concerned.

Wells has just arrived-I hear the rustling of Mrs. Brandyball's roundabout silk gown in the gallery. So-in order to make myself particularly acceptable-down I go once more to receive my guests.

VERSES

ADDRESSED BY SIR WALTER SCOTT TO LADY CHARLOTTE BURY, WHEN LADY CHARLOTTE CAMPBELL,

On her giving Sir Waller a small volume of her early Poems.

OF old, 'tis said, in Ilium's battling days,

Ere Friendship knew a price, or Faith was sold,
The chief high-minded, famed in Homer's lays,
For meanest brass exchanged his arms of gold*.

Say, lovely Lady, know you not of one

Who, with the Lycian hero's generous fire,
Gave lays might rival Græcia's sweetest tone,
For the rude numbers of a Northern Lyre?
Yet-tho' unequal all to match my debt-
Yet take these lines to thy protecting hand,
Nor heedless hear a Gothic bard repeat

The wizard harpings of thy native land.
For each (forgive the vaunt) a wreath may grow,
At distance due as my rude verse from thine.
The classic Laurel crowns thy lovely brow,

The Druid's "magic Misletoe" be mine!

Castle Street, Edinburgh, 1st Nov., 1799.

*Iliad, Bɔɔk vi

A DAY ON THE NEILGHERRY HILLS,

BY AN OLD FOREST-RANGER.

EVERY one must have heard of the Neilgherry Hills, or Blue Mountains of India. That delightful region where the invalid inhales new life and vigour from the balmy mountain-breezes, and where the sportsman may scour the endless forests, eight thousand feet above the level of the sea, fearless of jungle-fever, that dreadful scourge of all wooded districts in the scorching plains of Hindostan. For although it is not more than fifteen years since these hills were first explored on foot by some adventurous Europeans, yet the coolness and salubrity of the climate, the grandeur of the scenery, and the variety of game which inhabit the woods of this enchanting region, have already rendered it famous. A military station has been formed there for the reception of invalid soldiers; numerous houses have been erected by those who annually resort thither, either for the sake of their health, or to enjoy in perfection the wild excitement of an Indian sportsman's life; and during the months when the heat in the plains becomes almost intolerable, the little cantonment of Ootacamund, which but a few years back was a howling wilderness, and which even now lies embosomed amidst wild forests and savage mountain scenery, assumes the appearance of bustle and gaiety. The shores of the mountain lake, around which it is situated, are enlivened by groups of our fair country women on horseback, escorted by officers in gay military uniforms; boats decorated with gaudy-coloured flags skim over the glassy surface of the water; and the echoes of the woods, which for ages have only answered to the surly growl of the bear, the bellowing of the stag, or the long wailing cry of the jackal, now fling back in joyful chorus the baying of deep-mouthed hounds, and the sharp crack of the deadly rifle.

It was on one of those heavenly mornings peculiar to this climate, when the brilliancy of a tropical sky is combined with the freshness of a European sunrise, that three handsome Arab horses, accoutred for the field and each led by a native horse-keeper, might be seen slowly passing to and fro in front of one of the pretty little thatched cottages which, scattered irregularly over the sides of the hills, form the cantonment of Ootacamund. Presently a group of three sportsmen in hunting dresses issued from the door-way, and the impatient steeds snorted and pawed the ground, as if to welcome the approach of their riders.

"A fine scenting day this, lads," exclaimed the elder of the party, looking up towards the sky, and carefully buttoning a warm spencer over his green hunting-coat.

The speaker was a man apparently about fifty years of age his hair, which had originally been dark brown, was slightly sprinkled with gray, and the corpulence of his figure would at first sight have led one to suppose that his sporting-days were over. But the healthy though dark colour of his cheek showed that he had spent much of his time in the open air, whilst his firm step and steady piercing eye convinced one that he could still breast a hill, or squint along the deadly-grooved barrel with some hopes of success. The second person in the group was a tall wiry figure, whose large bones and well-knit joints gave pro