younger than herself, partook more of her care than her confidence. It thus happened that her father had been her companion, more than is usually the case in such relationships. She had been accustomed to consult him in all affairs of consequence; and self-dependent as she was by nature, she durst not incur the responsibility of acting in direct opposition to his counsels. In this slight sketch we have endeavored to give a faint outline of the character of our heroine, unlike, we are sensible, to the usual heroines of romance; but the portrait is drawn from real life, with its beauties unflattered, and its blemishes unconcealed; and we leave it as it is to make what impression it may on the opinions of others. Robert Selwyn was a native of the same village. He was a few years older than Rose, but had been accustomed to mingle in all the country pleasures and amusements of which she had been for a time the principal attraction. His handsome form, his manly and pleasing countenance, and his gay and careless manners, were his only passports to favor. He had no fortune to assist him in winning his way, but he had energy and ambition, which were yet to be aroused into action. There was a distant connection between the families of Winters and Selwyn, which served as a plea for frequent and familiar intercourse. Rose called him Cousin Robert, and under that name he was received as a sort of privileged guest at her father’s house. The farmer always welcomed him; and Rose chatted and laughed and flirted with him, until at last the flirtation ended in a serious attachment. Mr. Winters, with all his habitual foresight, had not looked for this result. To part with Rose, was an event for which he had made no calculation, and he could not persuade himself to believe that her affections were irrevocably engaged. The application of her lover, therefore, for his consent to their marriage, was met by a decided refusal. “Pooh, pooh, Robert,” said he, in answer to his solicitation, “I wonder what you would do with a wife. Tell me first, how you expect to make a living for yourself, let alone Rose?” “Why, if I can do nothing else, sir,” said Selwyn, “I can follow the sea, and at least get a living out of the whales. You know others here have got rich that way.” “Yes, yes, Robert, but it’s a hard life, and not much to your taste, I reckon.” “It might not be my choice, Mr. Winters; but I’m not afraid of hardships any more than other men—and I should think nothing hard with Rose.” “Oh, that’s the way all young men talk when they’re in love; but have you no other plan than that?” “Yes, sir—I thought of either setting up a store, or trying to get the school, as the old master is going away. I believe I know about as much as he does.”