The brilliant lustre of the brass-knocker, the white and spotless door-step, and the immaculate neatness of every thing around, were types of the prevailing habits of the proprietors. At the door, awaiting Governor H.’s arrival with great anxiety depicted on their faces, stood two female figures, the one being a genteel matron, somewhat advanced in years, and the other a young lady of less than twenty summers. “Relieve yourselves of your apprehensions,” said the governor, in a loud voice, as soon as he came within speaking distance. “She had merely fainted from fright, and seems to be even now gradually recovering.” “The Lord be praised!” exclaimed the ladies, advancing to the steps of the portico to meet him. They entered the house together. In a moment the fainting child was laid upon a couch, and being quickly attired in dry clothing, restoratives were actively applied. The elder female chafed her small, chilled palms in her own, while the younger administered a warm drink to her frozen lips. After a short time she unclosed her eyes, smiled faintly, and throwing her dimpled arms around the neck of the young lady who bent over her, burst into tears. “My dear sister,” she said, faintly, “I dreamed that I had gone to Heaven, where I heard sweet music, and saw little children like myself, with golden crowns upon their heads, and beautiful lyres in their hands.” “God has not called thee there yet. He has kindly spared thee to us a little longer,” said the young person to whom she spoke, stooping down and kissing her tenderly, while she, in like manner, relieved herself by a flood of tears. “The Almighty is very merciful,” said the matron, wiping her eyes, while something like a moisture hung upon the lashes of the governor’s piercing orbs, and dimmed their usual keenness. “I am not ill, uncle, aunt, Lucy, and we need none of us cry,” said the child, with the fickleness of an April day and the elasticity of her years, instantly changing her tears for smiles. “See, I am able to get up,” she added, disentangling herself from the embrace of her whom she had called her sister, and sitting upon the side of the couch. At that moment a shadow without attracted her attention. “There is Mr. Elmore, Lucy!” she exclaimed, with childish glee. The young lady had barely time to wipe away the traces of her recent emotion, when a tall figure crossed the portico and entered the room without ceremony. The new comer was a young man in the bloom of youth. As he entered, he lifted his hat, and a quantity of fair brown hair fell partially over a commanding forehead. His features were handsome, and his aspect both manly and prepossessing. The governor and his wife advanced and greeted him cordially, while the blush that mantled on the of Lucy Ellet, as she half rose and extended her hand to him, told that a sentiment warmer than mere friendship existed between them.