the fond enthusiasm of youth, he had thought would remain unshaken for ever; and the recollection of his engagement to Jessie Martin, which was once his greatest solace, now hung like a cloud over his spirits. For two or three years, her image had been ever present to his thoughts, and had formed his principal incentive to exertion; but Time had been gradually dimming his memory of the past. He began almost unconsciously to regret having so inconsiderately shackled the freedom of his inclinations, and, when he gazed on the many lovely forms around him, he wished he had followed Jessie’s advice, not to bind himself by a formal promise, until he had seen more of the world and of the people in it. The engagement had been made, however, and true to his principles, he was determined to adhere to it, although, to do so, he was obliged resolutely and firmly to avoid the society of one who had begun to usurp Jessie’s place in his affections. He had written home from time to time, giving a full account at first of his flattering prospects, and of the hope that cheered him on in his path; and now, after a lapse of eight years since his arrival in India, he wrote to say that fortune had so far favoured him, that he considered himself justified in thinking of making a change in his condition. He told not of his cool and altered feelings—he considered it his duty to conceal them, and to adhere to his engagement, even at the sacrifice of his happiness; and he wrote to claim the fulfilment of Jessie’s promise, and to beg her, if her feelings remained the same towards him, to come out to him by the first opportunity. Time had been busy also with Jessie. Long separation had gradually weakened her affection for Edward; and a freer intercourse with the world and with society, had produced its natural effect—a love of change and variety. She had been much and generally admired, and, although very guarded in her behaviour, and cool and distant in her manners to the young men who flocked around her, had received several very advantageous offers, which she had instantly and decidedly rejected, as she considered herself in honour bound to adhere to her early engagement. Her feelings towards Edward had, however, lost their freshness and warmth, and had gradually acquired a tone of indifference; and although she had formed no other particular attachment, she grieved to think that she could not participate in the constancy of affection which _seemed_ to pervade his letters to her. Thus were they mutually deceived, and each looked forward with anxiety and alarm to the period of their meeting, which was now not far distant, as Jessie had received Edward’s invitation, and had announced her intention of taking her passage in the _Lady Flora_ which was shortly to sail for Calcutta. It was with but little of the joy of a bride-expectant, that she began her preparations for her voyage; for she was conscious that she had none of that feeling