the three weeks in which Bacon was engaged in his Indian campaign, the doctor sitting by her side with his finger upon her pulse. Both were silent and abstracted. The pale beautiful countenance of the invalid was fixed in deep and earnest thought. Her eyes wandered through an open window, and sought a resting place upon some sunny spot of green and refreshing nature. Her lips moved just perceptibly, as if she were conversing with some one in an under tone. At length she slightly raised her head, her eyes sparkled with the brilliancy of stars, waxing brighter and brighter, and her head rising higher and higher from her pillow, until she screamed in wild delight, "The light of heaven and love's inspiration itself declare it false." The doctor rose with a grave and anxious look, and placing one hand upon her shoulders, and with the other removing the pillows that supported her, laid her gently down, saying, "I fear there is more excitement about your head to-day, my dear young lady; if it continues you must lose blood again." "Oh, dear doctor, there is indeed excitement about my head and my heart too, but it is not the excitement of fever; or if it is, it is a dear delightful fever, which I trust in God will never leave me, for it came just now wafted on my brain as if by the music of the spheres." "Your room must be darkened again, and the cold applications to your head repeated." "You think I am losing my senses again, dear doctor, but I assure you I am just regaining them, as I will show you from this time forward. I have now done with physic. I have a medicine here," (and she laid her hand upon her heart, while a bewitching smile played around her mouth, that staggered the good doctor,) "which is worth more to me than all the costly drugs of India, or the islands of the sea." And the event justified her words. Her mind was no sooner settled in deep conviction, and her heart comparatively at ease, than she began rapidly to recover. It was some days before the scene just related, when Harriet Harrison was admitted to her presence, and when, as the reader has already learned from that maiden herself, Virginia propounded to her the questions touching her lover's belief in their reported relationship, which were repeated by Miss Harrison to Bacon. So long as that interview continued between the two intimates, untramelled by the presence of a third person, it was one of deep interest; but unfortunately the heir of the house had too much reason to suspect that Harriet's feelings were engaged in another's interest, long to indulge them with an unbroken interview. Virginia barely had time to ask those questions, and whisper to her friend the tidings of her own dawning hopes, before the doctor entered, attended to the door as Harriet perceived through the partial opening, by Frank Beverly himself; she therefore took her leave, promising a speedy return.