Spring and autumn, summer and winter, flit over our heads, and as they pass to their grave, in the bosom of eternity, leave us their warning; and, though the lesson is too often unheeded, we cannot think but that it will come to all. As Lucy sat there, the bells from a distant church began to ring, and, sometimes, bursting on her ear, at others, retiring, as if they would lead her fancy with them far, far away, added still deeper emphasis to her thoughts; but she was presently disturbed from them, by the sudden entrance of Captain Clair, who apologised for breaking in upon her solitude, by saying, that Mr. Villars had requested him to find a book there for him. "And where is papa, then?" said Lucy; "I have been waiting here so long for him." "He has been walking up and down Pulteney Street with me," said Clair; "and we were talking of something which he wishes to find in this book." Though he laid his hand upon the volume, with little difficulty, he still lingered. But Lucy said nothing to tempt him to remain. "Why do you always so carefully avoid me?" he said, at length. "Because you are like an evil conscience, always bringing up hard things." "Is there not a way of soothing the remembrance of the past, without banishing it, by repenting, rather than forgetting? and that remedy, I think, you have already tried. We have both erred--let us forgive." "I have repented," said Lucy; "and I do forgive you; do not think there are any petty jealousies between us. Yet, I must confess, I am not quite pleased with you." "Why?" "Because you courted Mabel in prosperity, and forsake her now, when she needs friends, if ever she did. I am so unhappy when I think of losing her." "I see you have altogether mistaken me," said he, quickly; "your cousin would not accept me, were I again to offer myself. I have such good reasons, indeed, for believing so, that I have felt it my duty to banish every feeling approaching to love, when I think of her. Do me the justice to believe, that, foreseeing such a time as this, as I did when I first proposed to her, it is very unlikely I should draw back now?" "Yes, it is, indeed," said Lucy; "but I wish it had not been so--I should be so happy if she were not obliged to go away so far, and to spend all her life in teaching." "I wish, indeed," he replied, "it could be avoided; but you can do nothing, and, therefore, cannot reproach yourself. Only be as kind to her as you can, though, I know, you need no injunction about that." "No, indeed, not now," said Lucy, with a sigh; "but do not keep that dear papa of mine waiting. He will be ruining himself at the first bookseller's, if you do not go, and take care of him." Clair smiled, and taking up the book, hurried away; and Lucy went up-stairs, to make another useless effort to persuade Caroline to get their mother to make Mabel stay.