“Oh! I will not refuse you fifty of those; I will be only too glad if you think them worth the taking. But I did speak foolishly, dearest; and you must not blame me for it, for my heart is so overflowing with joy, that, of a truths I scarcely know what I say. I only wished to express that there is nothing in the wide world which you can ask of me, that I will not do, willingly, gladly. Will that satisfy you, Jasper?” “Why, ay! if you hold to it, Theresa,” he answered, eagerly; “but, mind you, it is really a sacrifice which I ask—a great sacrifice.” “No sacrifice is great,” she replied, pressing his arm, on which she was hanging with both her white hands linked together over it, “no sacrifice which I can make, so long as _you_ love me.” “I _do_ love you, dearly, girl,” he answered; “and if you do this that I would have you do, I will love you ten times better than I do, ten times better than I ever did.” “That were a bribe indeed,” she replied, laughing with her own silvery, girlish laugh. “But I don’t believe you could love me ten times better than you once did, Jasper. But if you will promise me to love me ever as you did then, you may ask me any thing under heaven.” “Well, I will promise—I will promise, wench. See that you be as ready to perform.” And, as he spoke, he stooped down, for the keeper had now retired with the horses, and they were entirely alone, and embraced her closely, and kissed her as he had not done for many a month before. “I will—I will, indeed, dear, dearest Jasper. Tell me, what is it I must do?” “Go to your room, dearest, and I will join you there and tell you. I must get me a crust of bread and a goblet of wine, and give some directions to the men, and then I will join you.” “Do not be very long, dearest. I am dying to know what I can do to please you.” And she stood upon tiptoes, and kissed his brow playfully, and then ran up stairs with a lighter step than had borne her for many a day. Her husband gazed after her with a grim smile, and nodded his head in self-approbation. “This is the better way, after all. But will she, will she stand to it? I should not be surprised. ’S death! one can never learn these women! What d—d fools they are, when all is told! Flattery, flattery and falsehood, lay it on thick enough, will win the best of them from heaven to—Hades!” Oh, man, man! and all that was but acting. [_Conclusion in our next._ * * * * * THE BROKEN HOUSEHOLD. BY MISS ALICE CAREY. Vainly, vainly, memory seeks Round our father’s knee, Laughing eyes and rosy cheeks Where they used to be: Of the circle once so wide, Three are wanderers, three have died.