her carriage. She was so much changed
that, at the first, I hardly recognized her; but, upon looking more
closely, I saw that it was indeed Mrs. Leighton.

A year and a half had now glided by since my return to Philadelphia.
Nothing worthy of note had taken place during this time.

The last letter from my friends in New Hampshire informed me that
Obadiah was still pursuing his studies, with a view to the ministry.
This afforded me but little surprise, as I had often heard him make
remarks which led me to think he had an inclination to that calling.

One sultry evening in August, I retired early to my own room, as I was
suffering from a severe head-ache. The usual remedies afforded me relief
from pain; but I found myself unable to sleep. As the hour grew late, my
nervous restlessness so much increased that, abandoning the idea of
rest, I rose and lighted my lamp. I felt almost alarmed at my own
agitation, which seemed so unaccountable, I seemed to feel the
foreshadowing of some unusual event. After a time, I closed my window,
and was about to extinguish my lamp and again seek repose, when I was
startled by the sudden ringing of fire-bells. Hastily unclosing my
window, I heard the sound of "Fire! fire!" echoed by many voices, and
accompanied by the hasty tread of many feet upon the pavement. I
observed the appearance of fire a few streets distant, but was unable to
make out its exact location. I listened eagerly, hoping to gain from the
many voices which reached my ears some account of the burning building.
Presently the words--"Mr. Leighton's house is burning!" reached my
excited ears. I saw that the fire was raging fearfully, as the adjacent
streets were becoming lighter by the flames. I was about to call my
uncle, when I heard his step approaching. A moment after he rapped at my
door. Just then Mrs. O'Flaherty rushed up the stairs, breathless with
terror.

"May the Saints defend us!" she exclaimed, as she burst into my
apartment; "but is the city on fire? For wasn't it the light o' the
flames shinin' on me windy that waked me out o' me sound slape."

My uncle endeavoured to allay her terrors, telling her that the city was
certainly not on fire, although there was a burning building in our near
vicinity. He soon declared his intention of visiting the scene of the
fire.

I begged him to be careful and not expose himself to danger.

After my uncle left us, we stationed ourselves on the upper piazza, to
watch the