“He must have overtaken my father, and seen the accident—or must have been trying to prevent his throwing himself in the water—for poor Harry—!” And then there was the tramp of more feet below, and another weight was carried through the passage. “I had him brought here, Esther. I knew you’d wish it—and he would have wished it too!” This was Esther Hammond’s wedding-day! Was not this sorrow enough for one poor house? Violent in her feelings and affections, Hannah never recovered. Her reason became impaired, and she was released from her sufferings by a death that none could venture to lament. Jackson’s creditors having laid claim to the whole of the property, in consequence of Hammond’s bond, the young people, eager to fly the scene of so much woe, took the advice of their friend, Mr. Grindlay, and came to seek a maintenance in London. So ends my tragic little story. I have only to add, that the proposed plan of emigration was carried out, to the infinite advantage of the two young people, and very much to the satisfaction of Mr. Jameson. MY NOVEL; OR, VARIETIES IN ENGLISH LIFE.(4) Book IV.—CONTINUED.—Chapter IX. With a slow step and an abstracted air, Harley L’Estrange bent his way toward Egerton’s house, after his eventful interview with Helen. He had just entered one of the streets leading into Grosvenor-square, when a young man, walking quickly from the opposite direction, came full against him, and drawing back with a brief apology, recognized him, and exclaimed, “What! you in England, Lord L’Estrange! Accept my congratulations on your return. But you seem scarcely to remember me.” “I beg your pardon, Mr. Leslie. I remember you now by your smile; but you are of an age in which it is permitted me to say that you look older than when I saw you last.” “And yet, Lord L’Estrange, it seems to me that you look younger.” Indeed, this reply was so far true that there appeared less difference of years than before between Leslie and L’Estrange; for the wrinkles in the schemer’s mind were visible in his visage, while Harley’s dreamy worship of Truth and Beauty seemed to have preserved to the votary the enduring youth of the divinities. Harley received the compliment with a supreme indifference, which might have been suitable to a Stoic, but which seemed scarcely natural to a gentleman who had just proposed to a lady many years younger than himself. Leslie resumed—“Perhaps you are on your way to Mr. Egerton’s. If so, you will not find him at home; he is at his office.” “Thank you. Then to his office I must redirect my steps.” “I am going to him myself,” said Randal, hesitatingly. L’Estrange had no prepossessions in favor of Leslie, from the little he had seen of that young gentleman; but Randal’s remark was an appeal to his habitual urbanity, and he replied with well-bred readiness, “Let us be companions so far.”