officer, the second son of an Earl, and himself a member of Parliament, was, just then, the object of universal attention. He had been much struck with the beauty and dignified grace of Miss Lester, and a very little encouragement was sufficient to attach him to her side during the evening. She danced with him repeatedly, listened with most expressive and flattering attention to his anecdotes, allowed him to wait upon her at supper, and finally suffered him to fold her cloak around her and lead her to the carriage. Indeed, she had proceeded much farther than she originally intended, for she was piqued by Horace Woodford's evident coldness and his ill-disguised contempt of her conduct. She was satisfied that she had now put to silence all the idle gossip which had so much annoyed her, and yet she half regretted the course she had adopted, since it had cost her the displeasure of her lover. However, she looked forward to a meeting the following day which should explain every thing, and she had been in momentary expectation of a visit from him, when Miss Garston so inopportunely appeared.

THE CONFESSION.

"A heavy heart bears not an humble tongue." Flora's self-command had supported her during Colonel St. Leger's visit, but the door had scarcely closed behind him, when she sunk on the sofa in a passion of tears. Long and deeply did she weep over the occurrences of the past few hours. She would have given worlds to recall the stinging words which she had uttered to him whom she loved best upon earth; but the voice had gone forth, the envenomed breath of pasflowers of hope and peace were blighted for ever. sion had tainted the atmosphere around her, and the Α severe head-ache,-that ready apology for the far more painful heart-ache, at which the world only jeers and scoffs, and which we therefore would blush to acknowledge, confined Flora to her apartment for the remainder and her absence was at first attributed to the fatigues of the day. There was a brilliant ball in the evening, ened a large bevy of beauties and beaux by a detail, of the previous night, until Miss Garston kindly enlightmore amusing than veritable, of the lovers' quarrel to which she had been a witness.

Ere Flora had left her room on the following morning a letter was handed to her; it was from Woodford, and

Horace Woodford had gone to the party solely to meet Flora. He had determined to be no longer in suspense, and had secretly resolved to find some opportunity in the course of the evening to secure an uninter-contained these words; rupted interview with her for the next morning, when it "Honor forbids me to depart, after all that has passed, was his intention to offer her the heart where she had long without affording you some explanation of my intentions. reigned paramount. To a man of Woodford's shy and I despise the character of a male flirt as heartily as I do sensitive temper such a resolution is only attained by a that of a coquette, and lest I should be accused of having severe struggle. Nothing but his faith in Flora's predi- || trifled with you, Miss Lester, I have conquered my pride lection for him could have conquered the proud reserve and subjected myself to the mortification of avowing which had so long restrained the expression of his that my heart has long been yours. I have loved you, cherished love, and it was with a bosom overflowing Flora, as few can love. You have been the joy, the with tenderness that he had mingled in the gay scenes hope of my life. My waking visions were all of you, of the night. It would be vain to attempt describing my dreams were radiant with the light of your beauty. the tempest of his feelings as he witnessed Flora's unI have been less a lover than a worshipper, and I bowed wonted coquetry and seeming indifference. Jealousy, long, in deep humility, before my idol, ere I dared to anger, mortification, and wounded affection all in turn breathe my vow, or offer the homage of my heart. Flora, ruled his spirit, until he could no longer conceal his I came to you yesterday with hopes which you have emotions. Miss Garston's insidious remarks had goaded crushed, and fears which you have realized. I came to him almost to madness, and instead of attempting to lay my whole soul bare before you,—to make known to speak with Flora, he stood aloof, watching her with a you its love, to discover to you the wounds which your sarcastic look, until her departure broke the spell, and levity had inflicted, and to ask the balm of sympathy left him to return moody and miserable to his home. and affection. I will not recall the pain of that meeting. It is enough that the sweet waters swelling up from the pure fountain of affection in my bosom have been mingled with the bitter draught of distrust.

But few can retain angry feelings when left to solitary communion with their own hearts. Horace Woodford rose from his sleepless couch with a determination to seek an explanation with Flora, which should either bind them for ever to each other, or sever every tie between them, Had he found her alone, her generous nature and her secret affection would have silenced the dictates of her pride; but, when in the presence of the malicious friend, he ventured to censure her conduct, every indignant feeling was in a moment aroused. She was conscious that his reserve had exposed her to invidious remarks, while it deprived him of a right to assume the character of her suitor. Wounded pride and unsatisfied affection gave poignancy to her emotions, and the interview ended in seeming anger, but real anguish to both.

Flora Lester, you are beautiful and gifted; you will have many lovers and many flatterers, but the one true heart, which would have cherished you through all the changes of this changeful life, has been flung from you in scorn. I would have placed my happiness in your keeping, I would have given you what gold could never win, but you have despised my offering even before it was laid at your feet. A sense of my own integrity has drawn from me this confession, and the better feelings of your nature will appreciate how much it has cost me. At the moment when I utter my long-silent affection, I bid you a last farewell. I have not written this in order to awaken your pity; sympathy might once have given

me happiness, but compassion I should scorn to accept. | acquired new strength from the gloom which now surI have neither hope nor wish to touch your feelings;|| rounded her. As she reclined her aching head on the henceforth we are utter strangers. I only ask what I have a right to claim, that this letter, the cold expression of my tortured feelings, may not be subjected to the cruel ridicule of your fashionable friends, or made the subject of mirth to your less conscientious admirers. Let us not part in anger, let us extend mutual forgiveness for the many bitter words which both have uttered, and if you ever think of me, let it be as one who seeks to efface your image from the heart which you have spurned, because, however powerful has been his love for you, he finds a still stronger impulse in his duty towards himself."

Let the young and loving heart picture to itself the agonies of Flora's wounded spirit as she perused these cruel words. Her first impulse was to write to Horace, but when she re-read his letter and again beheld the stinging sentence, "I have neither hope nor wish to touch your feelings," the pride of woman was aroused, and she almost despised herself for wishing his return. A hope, faint at first, but strengthening as she encouraged it, that she should yet meet him and exculpate herself from the imputation of heartless coquetry, reconciled her to the silence which decorum enforced; and though several days passed ere she was able to rise from her sick bed, she still looked forward to the future without despair. But she had not yet drank the full draught of sorrow which her own hand had prepared. The very first day that she was permitted to enter the drawingroom, a visitor announced that Horace Woodford had sailed for Europe, and in the relapse which followed her nervous excitement, Flora, for a time, lost all consciousness of her overwhelming grief.

CHANGES.

couch of pain, while death seemed watching beside her pillow, the gauds and toys which had contributed to her past enjoyments, seemed to her utterly insignificant and worthless. She thought of her wasted time, her unemployed talents, her slumbering energies, and she remembered with pain and sorrow, the petty interests, the vain follies, the jealous rivalries of her fashionable career. She resolved to change her whole course of life; and when the equable pulse of health once more measured her length of days, she was as much improved in mental as in bodily vigor. But the world still retained a power over her; she dared not brave its ridicule, and she therefore contented herself with secret resolutions and mental restraints. She went out amid its gay scenes, and though her step was less frequent in the dance, and her voice unheard when the tale of scandal circulated, still she had not boldly marked out the line of her duty. She wanted discipline of a still more vigorous kind, and the time came when her character received the final touch necessary to its perfection.

About two years after the events just narrated, Mr. Lester was found dead in his counting-room. His family were told that he was a victim to apoplexy, but the discreet physician, who concealed a small pocket-pistol found upon the floor, and who accounted for a blue and swollen wound upon his head by attributing it to his fall, alone knew better. His sudden death made it necessary to look into his affairs without delay, and ere he was cold in his grave, it was generally known that he died a bankrupt. Cotton speculations and injudicious investments in real estate had ruined him, and all his assets would not pay the half of his debts. Of course every thing was given up to the creditors, and in less

"Oh, world! but that thy strange mutations make us hate than six months after the funeral, the wife and daughthee, life would not yield to age."

ters of the ruined merchant were beggard and homeless.

How strange are the vagaries of the human heart! Those who had only beheld Flora Lester in the parlors how manifold the phases of its deceit! how varied the of fashion, drawing around her a circle of admirers, and form of its disguises! and how rarely is it seen in its securing the attentions of all by those nameless little true deformity, or its unadorned simplicity! Flora Lester arts which only a woman can practice, could never have recovered from her long illness, and returned to the suspected the hidden strength of her character. She was gay world, less brilliant, but perhaps more touchingly one of those whose energies are called out by emergenbeautiful than she had ever been. Her first task was cies,-whose powers always equal the necessities of the to reply to the overtures of Colonel St. Leger, who, moment. Her mother, brought up in the indolence and having heard the garbled story of her lover's jealousy, || luxury of a southern climate, was unable either to advise was not a little vain of thus securing, almost without an or act. Overwhelmed by the sudden calamities which effort, a beautiful wife, with a rich dowry of broad lands, || had befallen her, she could only weep and bewail the and bank stock, which were by no means a despicable irretrievable past, while upon Flora devolved the duty addition to her charms. Flora declined his addresses, kindly, but firmly, and the Colonel, as he stood on the steps of the Astor House, displaying at one and the same time his white teeth and his golden, ruby-tipped tooth-pick, was at a loss whether to be most astonished or indignant at her want of taste and his disappoint

of making all arrangements for the future. With no experience in business matters, and little knowledge of the sordid characteristics of human nature, Flora yet succeeded beyond her hopes. The creditors compassionating the destitute condition of the mother and daughter, who had relinquished even their jewels, the adornments of their former wealth, agreed to allow Mrs. But those long days of illness and despondency which Lester an annuity of $300 for the next five years. Upon Flora had lately passed in the quiet of her own chamber, this miserable pittance, a less sum than she had been in had not been without their effect upon her character. the habit of paying her milliner, Flora and her mother Hitherto her life had been all sunshine, and the mental were now to subsist, and the most rigid economy became vision which had been dazzled by the glare of fashion, || absolutely essential. Pride, as well as the necessity of

ment.

to dispose of these things for her, and the beauty of her workmanship, together with the low price at which they were offered, soon procured a ready sale, and an order for a regular supply of the same. Flora was happy to be thus enabled to assist her mother, and her own sorrows were hidden beneath a quiet manner and a placid countenance. It was a sad change for one who had been the cynosure of all eyes, the star of beauty in her own bright sphere. A weaker mind would have been crushed, a masculine temper would have become rugged and harsh beneath such discipline; but the character of Flora Lester was like the golden ore, it required the skill of the refiner and the trial by fire, to divest it of the dross which alone impaired its purity and value.

reducing their expenses within the smallest limits, forbade | who made a weekly visit to the next town, undertook them to remain in the city which had witnessed their early affluence, and ere the first year of their mourning had expired, they retired to a small village whose only recommendation was the cheapness with which the means of life might be procured. The world wondered and talked of sympathy and pity, and mouthed all those fine phrases which mean so little, and are so insulting to the feelings of the unfortunate. Some surmised that Flora would not now hold her head quite so high, and speculated upon her chances of matrimony; while a few, a very few, really felt the sympathy which they ventured not to express to the heart-stricken mourners. Time sped on, and as his wheels scattered the golden sand beneath the feet of the fortunate and the happy, they recked little of the many crushed and bleeding hearts over which that scythe-armed chariot rolled in its onward course. People forgot the belle of the past season; another as lovely was enthroned in her stead, and the brilliant circlet of fashion was still unbroken even though one of its fairest gems had fallen from the bright wreath. Meanwhile Flora Lester buried her regrets and her privations in seclusion. To watch over her mother's failing health, and to cultivate her own neglected talents so as to provide some resource against future want, were now her only cares. She anticipated a life of sorrow and of hardship, while the pride which had once led her to be first in extravagant display, now showed itself in her graceful and firm submission to circumstances. She was too proud to conceal their poverty, too proud to make any sacrifice to mere appear ances, too proud to exhibit any of that truckling spirit which enables one to parade the shadow of past splendors as an excuse for present penury. She was too much absorbed in the study of her mother's comfort to think of her own. Mrs. Lester, quite unconscious of the real value of money, sought to indulge all the morbid appetites of a valetudinarian, and Flora, by her secret industry and patient attention endeavored to gratify her without allowing her to be sensible of the cost at which her wants were satisfied.

But Flora was not insensible to those pangs which are the more severe because they must be concealed. Even in the midst of her self-denying duties, she was grieving over her own private sorrows, and fate's quiver was not yet emptied of its venomed arrows. Little news reached them in their retirement, yet there was more than Flora sought to hear. A paper which accidentally fell into her hands contained the announcement of Horace Woodford's marriage in England, and she felt that every tie which bound her to life was rapidly sundering. Yet she wavered not in her path of duty. Her mother was sinking into the helplessness of nervous imbecility, and the care she now required, and the necessity of providing means to ensure her the comforts of life, afforded Flora full employment, both of head and heart. She painted fire-screens and card-baskets, embroidered pin-cushions and reticules, drew vignettes for cheap books, and employed herself in all those little nick-nacks for which people more willingly pay than they would for really useful articles. A kind neighbor,

Mrs. Lester never recovered from the stroke which had so suddenly deprived her of husband and home and fortune. A weak and querulous discontent embittered her whole existence. Nothing seemed to suit her perverted taste; her palate coveted dainty food, which, when brought to her, she refused to taste, because its savor recalled to recollection of the damask napery, the silver, and the rich chrystal which had once decked her table. She pined for the exotics which had once perfumed her apartments, and yet turned in disgust from the pure and healthful odors of the sweet garden flowers which Flora had reared to gratify her. She mourned over the thought of the rich dresses and costly jewels which had once decked her faded beauty, and yet, wrapping herself in a slovenly dressing-gown, refused to adopt the neat attire which Flora's hands had fashioned from the remains of their well-filled wardrobes. She was ever murmuring at some petty discomfort, ever longing for some fancied good, and Flora was completely enslaved by her caprice. But the patient and dutiful daughter uttered no complaint. She pursued the path which conscience pointed out before her, and she met her reward in the approval of Heaven. Nor was her mother blind to her many virtues until, at length, a stroke of paralysis deprived her of all power of motion, when, after lingering many days, she breathed her last on the anniversary of her husband's untimely death, blessing with her last articulate words, the child who had watched over her with such tender care.

Reader, would you know the after fate of her who now weeps beside the lowly hillock where rests her last earthly friend? would you trace the future fortunes of her who once reigned as a queen, and now appears before you as a beggar? Ponder over the chapter of chances and changes now offered to your view, and when next we meet, the magic glass of fancy shall afford another of the many-colored phases of human life. Brooklyn, L. I.

THE most necessary talent in a man of conversation, is a good judgment. He that has this in perfection is master of his companion, without letting him see it; and has the same advantage over men of any other qualifications whatsoever, as one that can see would have over a blind man of ten times his strength.-Steele.