quietness, contrasted strangely with the busy, hurrying scene within.

"Miss Elmore," said Elliot, abruptly, "may I ask you, sincerely, had you
any design in a remark you made to me in the early part of the evening?"

Florence paused, and though habitually the most practised and
self-possessed of women, the color actually receded from her cheek, as
she answered,--

"Yes, Mr. Elliot; I must confess that I had."

"And is it possible, then, that you have heard any thing?"

"I have heard, Mr. Elliot, that which makes me tremble for you, and for
those whose life, I know, is bound up in you; and, tell me, were it well
or friendly in me to know that such things were said, that such danger
existed, and not to warn you of it?"

Elliot stood for a few moments in silence.

"Have I offended? Have I taken too great a liberty?" said Florence,
gently.

Hitherto Elliot had only seen in Florence the self-possessed, assured,
light-hearted woman of fashion; but there was a reality and depth of
feeling in the few words she had spoken to him, in this interview, that
opened to him entirely a new view in her character.

"No, Miss Elmore," replied he, earnestly, after some pause; "I may be
_pained_, offended I cannot be. To tell the truth, I have been
thoughtless, excited, dazzled; my spirits, naturally buoyant, have
carried me, often, too far; and lately I have painfully suspected my own
powers of resistance. I have really felt that I needed help, but have
been too proud to confess, even to myself, that I needed it. You, Miss
Elmore, have done what, perhaps, no one else could have done. I am
overwhelmed with gratitude, and I shall bless you for it to the latest
day of my life. I am ready to pledge myself to any thing you may ask on
this subject."

"Then," said Florence, "do not shrink from doing what is safe, and
necessary, and right for you to do, because you have once said you would
not do it. You understand me."

"Precisely," replied Elliot: "and you shall be obeyed."

It was not more than a week before the news was circulated that even
George Elliot had signed the pledge of temperance. There was much
wondering at this sudden turn among those who had known his utter
repugnance to any measure of the kind, and the extent to which he had
yielded to temptation; but few knew how fine and delicate had been the
touch to which his pride had yielded.

ART AND NATURE.

"Now, girls," said Mrs. Ellis Grey to her daughters, "