with his feelings than the warmth of the comfortable room inside. Thus the whole little world was turned upside down by Oswald’s light-hearted preference of his own gratification to anything other people might think. He had half-forgotten the appointment he had so anxiously made with Cara when the morning came, having got into full swing with his verses--which was still a more captivating way of expressing his sentiments than confession of them to Cara-- Fair face from old Pietro’s canvas sprung, Soft as the eve, fresh as the day, Sweet shadow of angelic faces, young And heavenly bright as they, Soul of all lovely things, by poets sung-- He could not content himself with the last line--‘Accept my lay,’ or ‘my humble lay,’ was the easiest termination, but it was prosaic and affected. The consideration of this occupied him to the entire exclusion of Cara, and he only recollected with what anxiety he had begged her to get rid of her aunt and see him alone at a quarter past twelve, having appointed to meet her at noon. He thrust the bit of paper on which he had been scribbling into his pocket, when he remembered, and went off languidly to pay his visit; he had meant to have completed the poem, and read it over to her, but it was clear that this must be postponed to another day. Meanwhile good Miss Cherry, full of anxieties, had got up much earlier than was necessary, and had spent a long day before twelve o’clock. By way of giving to her withdrawal at that fated hour an air of perfect naturalness and spontaneity, she invented a great many little household occupations, going here and there over the different rooms with Nurse, looking over Cara’s things to see what was wanted, and making a great many notes of household necessities. The one most serious occupation which she had in her mind she postponed until the moment when the lover, or supposed lover, should appear. This was her real object in coming to London, the interview which she had determined to have with her brother. With a heart beating more loudly than it had beaten for years, she waited till Oswald Meredith’s appearance gave the signal for this assault, which it was her duty to make, but which she attempted with so much trembling. By the time Oswald did appear her breath had almost forsaken her with agitation and excitement, and she had become almost too much absorbed in her own enterprise to wonder that at such a moment the young man should be late. She was already in the library when Oswald went upstairs. Two interviews so solemn going on together! the comfort of both father and daughter hanging in the balance. Miss Cherry knocked so softly as to be unheard, and had to repeat the summons before that ‘Come in’ sounded through the closed door, which was to her as the trump of doom.