expressing his passion, was careful to avoid a syllable which might lead her to believe that, in his present disgrace and poverty, he presumed to the honour of her hand. After wandering about for some time, their souls melting into each other, Miss Manners could not resist inviting him into the house to rest. Scarcely, however, had they seated themselves in the parlour, when Mr. Manners appeared. He entered with rather a hasty step, and his manner was a good deal agitated. On perceiving Jones, he bowed to him, then turning to his daughter-- "My child!" he said. "What is it?" inquired Miss Manners, in a tone of alarm. "Have you," he continued, "forgotten my injunctions?" Miss Manners cast her eyes on the ground, and seemed displeased at being taken to task before a stranger. Jones, observing her embarrassment, said-- "Sir, I shall be sorry if my presence here should occasion you any uneasiness. Believe me, I am the last person in the world to intrude where I am not welcome. It will, no doubt, cost me a pang, sir; but if it be your wish that I should not see your daughter more, I shall try to tear my heart from her--I shall go and hide myself in obscurity, and endeavour to forget all I have most loved in this world!" Mr. Manners raised his hand, as if commanding silence, and gazed stedfastly on his daughter. The latter looked up to him with tears in her eyes, and exclaimed-- "I think Mr. Jones is innocent!" "He _is_ innocent," said the old man, emphatically. "Come to my arms, both!" Both moved forward and took the hand he offered, but with amazement depicted on their countenances. "Oh, my children!" he said, "I have witnessed such a scene!" The old man sat down on the sofa, and, for a few moments, covered his eyes with his hands. "I have been," he, at length, proceeded, "by the dying bed of the poor village maiden's murderer--I have heard the fearful confession from his own lips. O God! may I never behold such another deathbed!" Jones dropped on his knee, and Miss Manners clasped her hands as in mute prayer. "Thank God!" at length exclaimed the latter; "the innocent will no longer suffer for the guilty!" "No!" said the old man. "Mr. Jones, you have been deeply wronged." "Ay," said Jones; "but not by you. From you only have I received kindness--kindness often better deserved, but never more needed--often, perhaps, bestowed, but never received with deeper gratitude. While every door was barred against me, yours was open--while every heart"---- His utterance became choked, and he was altogether unable to proceed. Mr. Manners shook him warmly by the hand; and, with many expressions of thankfulness, Jones withdrew, leaving Miss Manners in tears.