place, that the very exalted superiority which in her own eyes made her heart's rejection. of Mr. Temple's suit, a reflection on her taste and feelings, would in the opinion of others have rendered it but the more excusable; whilst in the estimation of those possessed of less pure and simple enthusiam than the lady of his love, the possibility of such high strained excellence existing in the life and character of a man of mortal mould, might have been strongly doubted.

But as it was, Mary Seaham now with downcast eyes and faltering tongue, gave answer when to answer she was able, in such sort as might have suited more an ashamed and humble penitent, confessing to a superior being a sin or an infirmity, than a woman free to choose or to reject, yielding her gentle death blow to a trembling lover's hopes.

"Mr. Temple, how humbling to my feelings is the opinion you must have so flatteringly formed of me, ere you could have addressed me

thus; an opinion, alas! how little accordant with reality. I fear, if you read my mind, my character aright, you would start aside at the unexpected fact of discovering worldly tastes and feelings, lying hidden there, dormant only, perhaps, from want of time and opportunity for bringing them forth. What, for instance, would you say, were I to acknowledge that it is not so much the world-in the sense you have described it, with which I am desirous of becoming acquainted, as that very world which you, in your well grounded experience, so much contemn. I mean," she added the colour tinging her cheek, "I mean its society."

"Society!" Mr. Temple repeated, looking down upon her with a sad, but mild and tender expression; "alas! can it indeed be so? your pure hopes and aspirations, do they really tend in that direction ?"

"I had always fancied," she pursued apologetically," that much of good and beautiful-much worthy of interest and admiration, might be met

with in that last great work of the Almighty; and I may be said to have comparatively seen as

little of that branch of the creation in its varied characters as of any other," she added with a smile.

"And you go forth," he responded, in the same tone and manner as before, "with your unsophisticated imaginings-your poetic fancyprepared to find this so called society peopled with the beings you have pictured in your dreams?"

"No, no! not quite that," she rejoined with returning animation; "but, Mr. Temple, do you really consider the whole circle of society individually as well as collectively, in so dark a light? Are there no flowers amongst the thorns no wheat among the tares ?"

"Yes truly," he responded with a still more sorrowful and earnest interest, as he marked the glowing cheek and unwonted excitement of the loved enquirer; "but the tares unhappily in that cursed ground-cursed for man's guilty sake!-too much preponderate, and those spring

ing up, choke the wheat till even they become unfruitful. But, oh, Miss Seaham ! am I answered now? The words, the acknowledgement you have just made are they the vehicles you have chosen, by which to convey your final rejection. of that which I have dared to proffer, for if not, here is a hand and heart as ready and willing-if possible ten times more eagerto be allowed to guide and guard you through those dangerous paths you desire to tread. Think not that I will shrink from turning back even to that world I have so condemned; if it be to walk by your side-to protect-to guide to guard you there. Yes," he murmured to himself, whilst some strong emotion evidently struggled for mastery, as the idea suggested itself to his imagination, and again his cheek became deadly pale. "For her sweet sakewith such an angel by my side-what could I not brave, what could I not encounter? Even thou, mine enemy! thou and thine insidious unnatural machinations!"

Then recollecting himself, Mr. Temple turned in some alarm, lest his half muttered soliloquy might have created unpleasant surprise in the mind of her he was so anxious to propitiate. But his fear was groundless. Mary Seaham, too much engrossed by the more apparent subject of his discourse, so completely absorbing her attention, heeded not the mysterious tendency of these latter words, and when recollecting himself, he again paused in breathless enquiry; she could only shake her head, and with averted face and downcast eyes, sorrowfully confess her unworthiness, and her rejection of such distinguished favour as had been shown. her by his offer. Then in other words more clear and explicit, she faltered forth sentences which tended slowly and sadly to convey with certainty to Mr. Temple's mind-and what to him were the others feelings, bowing down the young girl's heart before him as before a superior being that the one feeling he required was wanting there-the love which alone could