iven. It would please him better if
she sent them to good Father Pemberton, she felt sure, than if he should
get them himself. So she enlarged them somewhat, (for the old man did
not pinch his feet, as the younger clergyman was in the habit of doing,
and was, besides, of portly dimensions, as the old orthodox three-deckers
were apt to be,) and worked E. P. very handsomely into the pattern, and
sent them to him with her love and respect, to his great delight; for old
ministers do not have quite so many tokens of affection from fair hands
as younger ones.

What made Myrtle nervous and restless? Why had she quitted the city so
abruptly, and fled to her old home, leaving all the gayeties behind her
which had so attracted and dazzled her?

She had not betrayed herself at the third meeting with the young man who
stood in such an extraordinary relation to her,--who had actually given
her life from his own breath,--as when she met him for the second time.
Whether his introduction to her at the party, just at the instant when
Murray Bradshaw was about to make a declaration, saved her from being in
another moment the promised bride of that young gentleman, or not, we
will not be so rash as to say. It looked, certainly, as if he was in a
fair way to carry his point; but perhaps she would have hesitated, or
shrunk back, when the great question came to stare her in the face.

She was excited, at any rate, by the conversation, so that, when Clement
was presented to her, her thoughts could not at once be all called away
from her other admirer, and she was saved from all danger of that sudden
disturbance which had followed their second meeting. Whatever impression
he made upon her developed itself gradually,--still, she felt strangely
drawn towards him. It was not simply in his good looks, in his good
manners, in his conversation, that she found this attraction, but there
was a singular fascination which she felt might be dangerous to her
peace, without explaining it to herself in words. She could hardly be in
love with this young artist; she knew that his affections were plighted
to another, a fact which keeps most young women from indulging unruly
fancies; yet her mind was possessed by his image to such an extent that
it left little room for that of Mr. William Murray Bradshaw.

Myrtle Hazard had been just ready to enter on a career of worldly vanity
and ambition. It is hard to blame her, for we know how she came by the
tend