of the tongs around their heads. At length, he brings the tongs so nearly in contact with the head of his fair ward, that the lover flies from his hiding-place and arrests the guardian's arm.

"The guardian, still panting with rage, wishes to know to what fortunate circumstance they are indebted for the honor of the lover's company?'

"Explanations ensue. The lover's friend and the old aunt enter. The guardian is convicted of having made love to his ward, by which he forfeits all control over her and her estates. The heiress offers her aunt a noble dowry, and presents the hand of the aunt to the guardian, who, with this inducement, gallantly accepts it. The lover is, of course, made happy, and the piece is concluded."

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Capital!" exclaimed the deputies all together. "But how are we to dispose of the characters in the piece ?"

"Constance shall be the lovely heiress!" was the unanimous sentiment.

"I think I should succeed better as the old aunt," said Constance, "if you will allow me to choose my part."

"I enter my protest against any such arrangement," said Captain Delamere.

"Then Miss Walsingham will perhaps take the young heiress, and you will be the lover, Captain Delamere," said one of the deputies. "The officer's hat and sword point plainly to you."

A shade passed over Captain Delamere's handsome face. "You must pardon me," he said; "I cannot venture to represent such sentiments. A soldier and

a wanderer as I am, I must be doomed to singleblessedness. 'O what have I to do with love!"" he added more gayly. "I should prefer the part of the lover's friend."

"Why should not Vivian take the lover's part, then?" said Constance with an arch glance at her brother; "and I will represent one of the friends of the young heiress. I think I have a song that can be introduced with charming effect, as the one to be produced at Mrs. Singwell's concert. Anna, you will take the other, will you not? that arrangement will suit exactly."

The proposition was received with acclamation, and so far the characters of the piece were disposed of.

"But you have not yet decided on the most important personage of all," said Mrs. Melville; "who is to represent the guardian, the hero of the piece? "

All eyes were immediately turned toward Mr. Melville. He was deeply engaged in reading a philosophical pamphlet he had that morning received by the post, and marking with his pencil the most strik ing passages, entirely abstracted from the mingled voices and merry laughter that surrounded him.

As quick as thought he was surrounded by the deputies, who alighted around him like a flock of wild pigeons, at his feet, at the back of his large easy chair, and one perched on each of its arms.

"My dear Mr. Melville! my dear uncle! we have a request, a very particular request, indeed, to make; a favor to ask!"

"Ladies, I surrender at discretion," said Mr. Melville, putting down his pamphlet. "Pray what would you have?" he added, bestowing a gentle pat of encouragement on the shining heads below him, while he received in turn an encouraging kiss on each cheek from the pretty nieces perched on the arms of his chair.

"Why nothing in the world," said Anna, explaining the story which Mr. Melville had lost while absorbed in his pamphlet, "but that you will take the part of the guardian in our piece. Nobody can do it so well."

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My dear children," said Mr. Melville, "how can you ask me to do any thing so absurd and undignified? Vivian will do quite as well if you will only put a wig upon him."

"But Vivian has his part," expostulated Anna. "And nobody can be the guardian but your own dear self."

66 Because you think I am old, and cross, and stiff, and pompous, eh?" said Mr. Melville. "Well, I consent to sacrifice my dignity at the shrine of Momus for once, but on one condition," he added, with a sly glance at Mrs. Melville.

"Any conditions shall be fulfilled. I promise that without scruple," said Anna.

"Then the condition I exact is, that Mrs. Melville shall take the part of the old maiden aunt. The story, as I understand it, ends by her union in the bands of Hymen with the old guardian; so the part will be particularly appropriate for her. On these terms alone, I give my consent to the arrangement."

Mrs. Melville in vain protested against the proceeding. She found that she had been caught in a net of her own weaving, and the meshes were so dexterously entwined about her, that a fly might have made its escape more easily from a spider's web. She yielded with a good grace, the more readily, because it gave her no trouble to personate an ideal of her own creation.

The rehearsal was next to be arranged.

"Miss Walsingham, we will resign this parlor to you and your cavalier," said Anna. "The rest of us can prepare our parts separately, until your interview with your guardian." And they all departed, leaving Vivian and Evelyn alone.

Evelyn sat for some minutes with her eyes turned on the paper on which her portion of the dialogue was written. Vivian held that which Anna had given him in his hand. His thoughts seemed far, very far from it. As he approached her, Evelyn's transparent cheek gradually assumed the deepening tinge of rose that diffuses itself at sunrise over the Alpine snow. She raised her blue eyes, and they met his. Oh what a world of love was in the depths of those eyes!

But the mischievous Anna closed the door at that very moment, and it is impossible to say what was the actual result of the interview. When it was again opened, Vivian was, according to his part of the programme, kissing the white hand Evelyn had abandoned to him, as her part required, in token of reconciliation after the lovers' quarrel in the piece.

CHAPTER VII.

A SHADE ON THE PICTURE.

A HIATUS must be imagined between the present chapter and our last, simply because the termination of any social réunion is never so agreeable as its beginning or its progress. We will therefore pass over the many affectionate adieus, and often exacted and repeated promises of the young friends to continue an interchange of visits and correspondence.

Mr. Walsingham, whose visit, as Captain Delamere had explained to Evelyn, had been unexpectedly delayed, arrived on the last day of the festival, and was welcomed with enthusiasm by the family as well as his lovely daughter.

The intimate acquaintance and perfect confidence established between Mr. Walsingham and Mr. Melville needed no more substantial proof than the Christmas visit of Evelyn to Avonmore, for she was her father's darling, and the pride and delight of his existence.

A similarity of tastes, and still more of feeling, united the two friends more closely. Both had seen much of the world, yet neither was worldly. They had only profited by their superior advantages to com