I shall soon be there!'--pointing to the blue sky, 'and roaming in fairer scenes than this, with the holy angels for companions. Clarence, you must come there too!' 'Augusta, do not, I entreat you do not; you are made to shine in this world yet,--to be a star of fashion and beauty,' I exclaimed. 'No, I shall be a star there,--I do not wish to shine here. This world, darling, is fleeting and vain, and its pleasures unsatisfying. I have learned to love a better world, which is fixed, eternal, unchangeable,--whose pleasures are real and substantial. Clarence, you must be good, and meet me there! There I shall meet little Arthur, and see his pretty face again: and we will watch for you!' She said more, much more than I can remember, and which I wish I thought of oftener. Oh! Ellen, I seem to hear her yet! When we reached home, a sad--sad scene awaited us; my father, the Earl, had been borne home lifeless. Riding across country, and being a bold, fearless equestrian, he had put his horse to a fence too high for it; the animal refused the leap; my father reined it back, and then, riding forward, showed it, by spur and whip, that it must take it. The horse rose, but not high enough,--my father helped it by lifting its head: it was vain!--horse and horseman fell heavily; the horse soon rose,--not so its rider, who still detained the steed by the bridle, clenched in the hand of the dead. There he was found by Wilton, and borne home by four foresters. I shall never forget Augusta's grief,--it was long, bitter, unavailing. My mother was then in England; and I, now an Earl, strove to conceal my own sorrow, and soothe Augusta's; but she refused to be comforted, and took to her bed with a fever, brought on by excessive sorrow. Her presentiment was too sadly true; and within a week she was laid side by side with her father in the old family vault, in the west tower. Since then I have grown a man, and mingled in the world; but, if deadened by time, my sorrow is still quick in my breast, and the dying words of my sister ring distinct and clear in my ears!" "How sad! No wonder your feelings are melancholy," said Ellen. "But you spoke of another of your family: was Arthur your brother,--and is he, too, dead?" "He was my brother," said the Earl, "but his fate is wrapt in mystery." "How I should have liked to have seen Lady Augusta; but do tell me about your brother, I am so interested." "You may see a feeble attempt to stamp Augusta's beauty when we go home--her portrait hangs in the hall. Arthur's history is a long and sad one, but I will tell it to you if you are not weary." "Oh, no, no; I am breathless with interest."