Meanwhile, the miserable Nora, deceived by the arts and representations of Levy--acting on the natural impulse of a heart so susceptible to shame--flying from a home which she deemed dishonored--flying from a lover whose power over her she knew to be so great, that she dreaded lest he might reconcile her to dishonor itself--had no thought save to hide herself forever from Audley's eye. She would not go to her relations--to Lady Jane; that were to give the clew, and invite the pursuit. An Italian lady of high rank had visited at Lady Jane's--taken a great fancy to Nora--and the lady's husband, having been obliged to precede her return to Italy, had suggested the notion of engaging some companion--the lady had spoken of this to Nora and to Lady Jane Horton, who had urged Nora to accept the offer, elude Harley's pursuit, and go abroad for a time. Nora then had refused;--for she then had seen Audley Egerton. To this Italian lady she now went, and the offer was renewed with the most winning kindness, and grasped at in the passion of despair. But the Italian had accepted invitations to English country houses before she finally departed for the Continent. Meanwhile Nora took refuge in a quiet lodging in a sequestered suburb, which an English servant in the employment of the fair foreigner recommended. Thus had she first came to the cottage in which Burley died. Shortly afterward she left England with her new companion, unknown to all--to Lady Jane as to her parents. All this time the poor girl was under a moral delirium--a confused fever--haunted by dreams from which she sought to fly. Sound physiologists agree that madness is rarest among persons of the finest imagination. But those persons are, of all others, liable to a temporary state of mind in which judgment sleeps--imagination alone prevails with a dire and awful tyranny. A single idea gains ascendency--expels all others--presents itself every where with an intolerable blinding glare. Nora was at that time under the dread one idea--to fly from shame! (TO BE CONTINUED.) FOOTNOTE: [8] Continued from the July Number. HENRY CLAY. PERSONAL ANECDOTES, INCIDENTS, ETC. We have just returned from the Park and City-Hall, and from witnessing the long procession, "melancholy, slow," that accompanied the remains of the "Great Commoner" and great statesman, HENRY CLAY, to their temporary resting-place in the Governor's Room. It was not the weeping flags at half-mast throughout the city; not the tolling of the bells, the solemn booming of the minute-guns, nor the plaintive strains of funereal music, which brought the tears to the eyes of thousands, as the mournful cavalcade passed on. For here were the lifeless limbs, the dimmed eye, the hushed voice, that never should move, nor sparkle, nor resound in eloquent tones again!