re
and replied to the question, with the same good humor in which the words
were uttered.

"Agnes in love! Well, papa, and surely that is not unnatural."

"Thank you, Jane," replied Agnes. "Papa, that's a rebuff worth
something; and Jane," she proceeded, anxious still to vindicate her
own sagacity with respect to her sister, "suppose I should be in love,
surely I may carry on an innocent intercourse with my lover, without
consulting papa."

"No, Agnes, you should not," replied her sister, vehemently; "no
intercourse--no intercourse without papa's knowledge, can be innocent.
There is deceit and dissimulation in it--there is treachery in it. It is
impossible to say how gloomily such an intercourse may end. Only think,
my dear Agnes," she proceeded, in a low, but vehement and condensed
voice--"only think, dear Agnes, what the consequences might be to you if
such an attachment, and such a clandestine mode of conducting it, should
in consequence of your duplicity to papa, cause the Almighty God to
withdraw His grace from you, and that, you should thereby become a
cast-away--a castaway! I shudder to think of it! I shudder to think of
it."

"Jane, sit beside me," said Mr. Sinclair; "you are rather too hard upon
poor Agnes--but, still come, and sit beside me. You are my own sweet
child--my own dutiful and candid girl."

"I cannot, I cannot, papa, I dare not," she exclaimed, and without
uttering another word she arose, and rushed out of the room. In less
than a minute, however, she returned again, and approaching him,
said--"Papa, forgive me, I will, I trust, soon be a better girl than I
am; bless me and bid me good-night. Mamma, bless me you too, I am your
poor Jane, and I know you all love me more than you ought. Do not think
that I am unhappy--don't think it. I have not been for some time so
happy as I am to-night."

She then passed out of the room, and retired to her own apartment.

When she was gone, Agnes, who sat beside | her father, turned to him,
and leaned her I head upon his breast, burst into bitter tears. "Papa,"
she exclaimed, "I believe you will now admit that I have gained the
victory. My sister's peace of mind or happiness is gone for ever. Unless
Osborne either now is, or becomes in time attached to her, I know not
what the consequences may be."

"It will be well for Osborne, at all events, if he has not practised
upon her affections," said William; "that is, granting that the
suspicion, be just. But