appeared to arise
from her speed in running up stairs. But she knew better. She took but
one look of the cheval glass, and broke the seal.

"Stanzas!" she said; and, taking one other glance at the mirror, she
exclaimed to the agitated young lady represented there, "only think!"
and devoured the following lines:--

"There is a tear that will not fall
To cool the burning heart and brain;
Oh, I would give my life, my all,
To feel once more that blessed rain!

"There is a grief--I feel, in sooth,
It rends my soul, it quells my tongue;
It dims the sunshine of my youth,
But, oh, it will not dim it long!

"There is a place where life is o'er,
And sorrow's blasts innocuous rave;
A place where sadness comes no more.
Know'st thou the place? It is the grave.

"Yes, if within that gentle breast
Mild pity ever held her sway,
Thou'lt weep for one who finds no rest--
The reason he can never say.

"P.S.--Miss Hendy is an angel upon earth. My friend Mr Bristles, of
the _Universal Surveyor_, one of the most distinguished literary men
of the age, has got me an invitation to go to her house to-night, to
read the first act of my tragedy. Shall I have the happiness of seeing
thee? Would to my stars my fate were so fortunate! I enclose you the
above lines, which Bristles says are better than any of Lord Byron's,
and will publish next week in the _Universal_. Mayest thou like them,
sweetest, for they are dedicated to thee, Thine ever--ALMANSOR." What
she might have done beyond reading the lines and letter six times
over, and crying "beautiful, beautiful!" as fast as she could, it is
impossible to say, for at that moment she was called by her venerable
sire. She crumpled the note up after the manner of all other heroines,
and hid it in her bosom; and hurried to the drawing-room, where she
found her father in full dress, pulling on a pair of new kid gloves.

"Well, Soph, I'm off for Miss Hendy's--don't give me any nonsense now
about her being low, and all that sort of thing; she don't move in the
same circle of society, certainly, as we do, but she has always
distinguished people about her."

"Oh, papa!" interrupted the young lady. "I don't object to Miss Hendy
in the least. I love her of all things, and would give worlds to be
going with you!"

"That's right! You've heard of the new poet then? Tremendous they say;
equal to Shakspeare--quite a great