uld take me, he won't get me; so I think we're even.

"Out once more came the cudgel, and on they laid; but now I wasn't
common stone but whitestone. Lay on, say I; I see, or rather I feel,
that the crown is before me. If I must die a marthyr to a dacent spirit,
why I must; and so God's blessing be with you all. I'll shine in heaven
for this yet.

"I think now, Miss, you'll grant that I know something about life."

"Alice," replied Lucy, "I have often heard it said, that the humblest
weeds which grow contain virtues that are valuable, if they were only
known. Your experience is not without a moral, and your last lover was
the worst, because he was mean; but when I think of him--the delicate,
the generous, the disinterested, the faithful, the noble-hearted--alas,
Alice!" she exclaimed, throwing herself in a fresh paroxysm of grief
upon the bosom of her maid, "you know not the incredible pain--the
hopeless agony--of the sacrifice I am about to make. My father, however,
is the author of my being, and as his very life depends upon my strength
of mind now, I shall, rather than see him die whilst I selfishly gratify
my own will--yes, Alice, I shall--I shall--and may heaven give me
strength for it!--I shall sacrifice love to duty, and save him; that is,
if it be not already too late."

"And if he does recover," replied Alice, whose tears flowed along with
those of her mistress, but whose pretty eye began to brighten with
indignant energy as she spoke, "if he does recover, and if ever he turns
a cold look, or uses a harsh word to you, may I die for heaven if he
oughtn't to be put in the public stocks and made an example of to the
world."

"The scene, however, will be changed then, Alice; for the subject matter
of all our misunderstandings will have been removed. Yet, Alice,
amidst all the darkness and suffering that lie before me, there is one
consolation"--and as she uttered these words, there breathed throughout
her beautiful features a spirit of sorrow, so deep, so mournful, so
resigned, and so touching, that Alley in turn laid her head on her
bosom, exclaiming, as she looked up into her eyes, "Oh, may the God of
mercy have pity on you, my darling mistress! what wouldn't your faithful
Alley do to give you relief? and she can't;" and then the affectionate
creature wept bitterly. "But what is the consolation?" she asked, hoping
to extract from the melancholy girl some thought or view of her position
that might inspire the