The skillful locksmith, with the ready tact of his profession, soon comprehended the difficulty, and having tried to pick the lock, decided that it must be done from the inside. A ladder was in requisition, to enter by the window above. Mrs. Elwyn was in despair at this intelligence, and broke out into complaints and reproaches, intended for me, which I heard but imperfectly, as I ran to borrow a ladder of some firemen in the neighborhood. It was brought by two of the company, who were followed by several others eager to learn what was going on. These were joined by some late idlers, while the windows of the adjoining and opposite houses, as well as those of our own, were thrown open, and a multitude of heads thrust out to see what was the matter. A pretty scene for the crowd-hating, aristocratic, haughty Mrs. Elwyn! For once, unmindful of her dignity, she stood giving voluble directions to the locksmith, already at the window, calling to him with flurried emphasis, to be careful not to throw down the flower-stand, or break the vase full of goldfish—which articles belonged to her. As for me, my only feeling was one of absolute despair, for I knew that my transgression, with its consequences, was unpardonable. We obtained entrance at last, and I heard the farewell of my love in the indignant rustle of Mrs. Elwyn’s mantle, as she swept up stairs. A day or two after she and her daughter departed on a visit to Washington, and when they returned, took lodgings elsewhere. I heard in a few months of Gertrude’s marriage, but felt no sorrow, for the spell was broken. That midnight scene, with the mortification it caused me, was a harmless termination to my First Love. * * * * * THE DEATH OF CLEOPATRA. BY W. GILMORE SIMMS, AUTHOR OF “GUY RIVERS,” “THE YEMASSEE,” “RICHARD HURDIS,” &c. _Guard._ What work is here? Charmian, is this well done? _Charmian._ It is well done, and fitting for a princess, Descended of so many royal kings. SHAKSPEARE. AUGUSTUS CÆSAR. DOLABELLA. _Augustus._ Dead! say’st thou? Cleopatra?