s that he
would return to his native land in two years."

"Two years is a long time," remarked Mary; "but sometimes it passes
away very quickly."

"Ah!" observed Sophia, Cecilia, in the meantime, would redouble her
charities and her prayers."

"The two years passed away, then a third, and then a fourth, but not a
single word had either been heard of or from the absentee. Cecilia was
rich, and her hand was sought by many wealthy suitors, but hitherto
she had rejected them all."

"The dear, good Cecilia," cried Sophia.

"Up till this period the family had permitted her to have her own way.
But as it is necessary for authority to prevent excesses of all kinds,
they thought it time now to interfere; they could not allow her to
sacrifice her whole life for a shadow. Her parents, therefore,
insisted upon her making a choice of one or other of the suitors for
her hand. She requested grace for one year more, which was granted."

"Come back, truant, quick; come back, Master Herbert!" cried Sophia.

"There now, Willis," cried Jack, "you see the effect of your new
world; people go away there, and never come back again."

"Oh, but you must bring him back in time, father; you must indeed,"
urged Sophia.

"If it were only a romance I were relating to you, Sophia, I could
very easily bring him back; but the narrative I am giving you is a
matter of fact, which I cannot alter at will. There would be no
difficulty in bringing a richly-laden East Indiaman, commanded by
Captain Philipson, into the Severn, and making Herbert and Cecilia
conclude the story in each other's arms, but it would not be true."

"Then if I had been Cecilia, I should have become a nun," said Mary,
timidly.

"Exaggeration, my daughter, is an enemy to truth. It is easy to say,
'I would become a nun,' and in Roman Catholic countries it is quite as
easy to become one; but, though it may be sublime to retire in this
way from the world, it is frightful when a woman has afterwards to
regret the inconsiderate step she has taken, and which is often the
case with these poor creatures."

"As you said of myself," remarked Willis, "it is a crime to go down
with a sinking ship so long as there is a straw to cling to."

"I presume," continued Wolston, "that during this year poor Cecilia
prayed fervently for the return of her old playfellow; but her prayers
were all in vain, the year expired, and still no news of the young
man; at last she despaired of ever seeing