him."

"No you wouldn't," said the voice of that interesting individual, as
he made his appearance with a lady on his arm. "Here she is--take
her--be happy. After I'd given the notes, mind misgave me--went back
to the house--found the aunt gone--niece in tears--followed
after--same train--last car--here she is!"

"I hope this will be a lesson," said Dovekin.

"So it is. Henceforth, I shall mind my own business; for every thing
I've undertaken lately, on other folks' account, has gone amiss. Come,
aunty, give your blessing--let 'em go. Train ready--I'm off--best of
wishes--good by. Cars ready for Boston and way stations!--all aboard."

The aunt gave her blessing; and this was the last that any of the
party saw of the _Obliging Young Man_.

EULALIE LASALLE.

A STORY OF THE REIGN OF TERROR.

O, what was love made for if 'twas not for this,
The same amidst sorrow, and transport, and bliss?

MOORE.

The fanaticism of the French revolutionists had reached its height;
the excitable population, intoxicated with power, and maddened by the
vague dread of the retribution of despair, goaded on by profligate,
ferocious, or insane leaders, was plunging into the most revolting and
sanguinary excesses. The son of St. Louis had ascended to heaven, the
beautiful and unfortunate Marie Antoinette had laid her head upon the
block, the baby heir of the throne of the Capets was languishing in
the hands of his keepers, and the Girondists, the true friends of
republican liberty, were silenced by exile or the scaffold. In short,
the Reign of Terror, the memorable sway of Robespierre, hung like a
funeral pall upon the land which was fast becoming a vast cemetery.
The provincial towns, faithful echoes of the central capital, were
repeating the theme of horror with a thousand variations. Each
considerable city had its guillotine, and where that instrument of
punishment was wanting, the fusillade or the mitraille supplied its
place.

At this crisis, Eugene Beauvallon, a young merchant of Toulouse,
presented himself one morning in the drawing room of Mademoiselle
Eulalie Lasalle, an orphan girl of great beauty and accomplishment, to
whom he had long been betrothed, and whom he would ere this have
married but for the political troubles of the period. Eulalie was a
graceful creature, slenderly and symmetrically formed, with soft blue
eyes, and an exceedingly gentle expression