, and I hope
never will. Tell me truly, do you take any interest in this young
gallant?"

Amabel blushed deeply.

"I should not speak the truth, father," she rejoined, after a pause, "if
I were to say I do not."

"I am sorry for it," replied Bloundel, gravely. "But you would not be
happy with him. I am sure he is unprincipled and profligate:--you must
forget him."

"I will try to do so," sighed Amabel. And the conversation dropped.

On the following day, Maurice Wyvil entered the grocer's shop. He was
more richly attired than before, and there was a haughtiness in his
manner which he had not hitherto assumed. What passed between him and
Bloundel was not known, for the latter never spoke of it; but the result
may be gathered from the fact that the young gallant was not allowed an
interview with the grocer's daughter.

From this moment the change previously noticed took place in Amabel's
demeanour towards Leonard. She seemed scarcely able to endure his
presence, and sedulously avoided his regards. From being habitually gay
and cheerful, she became pensive and reserved. Her mother more than once
caught her in tears; and it was evident, from many other signs, that
Wyvil completely engrossed her thoughts. Fully aware of this, Mrs.
Bloundel said nothing of it to her husband, because the subject was
painful to him; and not supposing the passion deeply rooted, she hoped
it would speedily wear away. But she was mistaken--the flame was kept
alive in Amabel's breast in a manner of which she was totally ignorant.
Wyvil found means to deceive the vigilance of the grocer and his wife,
but he could not deceive the vigilance of a jealous lover. Leonard
discovered that his mistress had received a letter. He would not betray
her, but he determined to watch her narrowly.

Accordingly, when she went forth one morning in company with her younger
sister (a little girl of some five years old), he made an excuse to
follow them, and, keeping within sight, perceived them enter Saint
Paul's Cathedral, the mid aisle of which was then converted into a
public walk, and generally thronged with town gallants, bullies,
bona-robas, cut-purses, and rogues of every description. In short, it
was the haunt of the worst of characters of the metropolis. When,
therefore, Amabel entered this structure, Leonard felt certain it was to
meet her lover. Rushing forward, he saw her take her course through the
crowd, and attract general attention from her lov