felt, and she must yield to it; she would take an opportunity of having one more explanation from Grace, and then leaving her forever. As to Grace herself, her condition was almost equally pitiable. Her anxiety to avoid any meeting with Anne prevented her from frequently visiting her aunt's chamber, in which Anne's days were almost wholly passed, and the professor being, save at the time of the mid-day meal, occupied from morning till evening at the university, Grace had an abundance of time at her disposal for solitary reflection. The result of this, though not favorable to Anne-for Grace could never forgive the deceit that had been practiced upon her in bringing her away from London under a false pretext-was, on the whole, beneficial. from an undesirable connection. Not that she felt much less would allow-any gratitude to Ane for the part which she had played in these proceedings. She might have rescued her from the impending alliance with Heath, but the alleged magnanimity of the motive obtained little cred: from Grace. The fact that Heath had once been engaged to her guardian friend could not Lat have its influence; and then there was the unex plained mystery about that odious Captain Studley, and all that had been done between the interval of her parting with Anne at Hampstead and meeting her again in Paris; and altogether Grace felt that though George Heath might be wrong-was wrong, doubtless, in writing that extraordinary letter-Anne Studley was wrong too. Grace did not know which was worse, to bear the pangs of wounded friendship, or of wounded love. Meanwhile her cogitations had one result; she addressed a letter to Mrs. Crutchley, informing that worthy lady that she should not return to London for some time, and that she should have no further occasion for Mrs. Crutchley's services; the house in Eaton-place must be given up at the end of the term, then close at hand, until which time she could remain there if she chose. The letter contained no allusion of any kind to Mr. Heath; to mention his name would be, Grace felt, to compromise her dignity. The reference to her protracted absence from London would probably convey to Mrs. Crutchley all she required to know on that point, even if she had not already been made acquainted with what had passed. When her natural good sense, undisturbed by surrounding influences, came into play, the young heiress began to doubt whether the passion which she imagined herself to entertain for George Heath had any real foundation, or whether it was merely a passing fancy, evoked principally by the difference between him who had paid her assiduous and deferential court, and her other admirers, who seemed to think that she should consider herself honored by their offers, and encouraged by the dexterous and never-failing laudation of Mrs. Crutchley. Her first feeling of liking for Mr. Heath had, probably, she thought, originated in gratitude for the manner in which, according to the testimony of all, he had managed her property; but he had been duly paid for that, and had his reward in the position which he then held. He had been very kind to her, it is true, on her first arrival in London, and it was owing to him that she had been emancipated from the dullness to which the ignorant insouciance of her trustees would have consigned her, and obtained an insight into the inner life of that society in which she so much delighted, and where she had played so distinguished a part; but, after all, she really knew very little of Mr. Heath-much less than of many of those whom she was in the habit of meeting daily, and who professed themselves devoted to her service. And while Grace Middleham was in this train of thought, the uncomfortable reflection came to her that it was by no means impossi-nothing-doing state which had recently become ble she had been made a tool of; that collusion might have existed between Mrs. Crutchley and Mr. Heath for the purpose of advancing their mutual interests, and that there was just a chance that, by leaving London, she had been saved There came a time when Anne's preparations being all complete, and the burden of her life, with its constant attendance in the sick room, its want of sympathy and companionship, its knowl edge of the feeling by which Grace was actuated, was greater than she could bear, she determined upon carrying out the step which she had recently had in contemplation. One morning when she had left the Frau Professorin comfortably settled upon her sofa deep in the newly-arrived newspaper she tapped softly at Grace's door, and being admitted, found the heiress in that contemplative characteristic of her. Grace's cheeks flushed for an instant as she saw her visitor; but she speedily recovered herself, and made some ordinary remark having responded to which, Anne said: "I have come to ask you to give me a few minutes of your time; I shall not detain you long, but what I have to say must be said at once." "My time is not so valuable that you need apologize for occupying it," said Grace; "on the contrary, I ought rather to be thankful to you for helping me to get through any portion of the dreary day." "The reaction after your life in London is doubtless sufficiently unpleasant," said Anne, "and I have noticed, with great regret, that your residence here seems to have grown distasteful to you. There is, however, no reason why it should continue; you are your own mistress, with the means and power to live where you like, and to do what you choose; and so far as I am concerned, you will be rid henceforth of the clog which I may possibly have been upon your actions." Grace looked up in wonder. "I am not aware," she said, "of ever having given you any reason to form such a thought." "You may not be aware of it, and yet it may perfectly well have existed," said Anne. "However, what brought me here was not to open up any discussion, but simply to announce to you that, for a long time, I have been convinced of the impossibility of my continuing in the position which I have occupied since our return to this house." "You are alluding, I suppose," said Grace, "to your attendance upon Madame Sturm? You must remember that you took her under your care wholly of your own free will, and without the expression of any wish on my part. If those duties are irksome to you, they can be discontinued at once." "They are not irksome to me; and I should be only too glad to remain in the discharge of them," said Anne, "provided other circumstances were unaltered. As it is, however, that is quite impossible. My presence in this house originated in the fact of my being your chosen friend, shielded and sustained by you at a time when such protection and sustenance were absolutely essential to me. For what you did then I must be eternally grateful; but, as I said before, the circumstances under which those relations existed are entirely changed." What us is gone, I suppose, for ever; and it is therefore impossible for me to remain here a mere recipient of your bounty, hanging on to the memory of something which was once, but is no more. you did for me I accepted in the spirit in which it was done, and honestly felt no compunction; but I have my pride too, and I should be unworthy of the feeling with which you once regarded me, if I were to continue an inmate of this house." "Does it not occur to you," said Grace, in a more gentle tone, that there is no reason why your pride should be wounded, even regarding it in the light in which you do? Do you not see that, in fulfilling your present position, and rendering invaluable service to Madame Sturm, you more than repay me for anything I may be able to do for you?" "I should have been very content to have fulfilled that position, and under other circumstances, and had I not an unfortunately vivid recollection of what has gone before. As it is, I cannot do so; I must seek another home and a more active life.” Grace was silent for a moment, then she said, in a somewhat tremulous tone: "You are sure that you have well considered this step-that you are certain you are doing right in taking it?" "I have been turning it over night and day for weeks," replied Anne, "and thought of it in all its bearings, and I have satisfied myself that I shall be doing right.” There was another pause. Then Grace said, "What do you propose to do? where do you intend to go?" "I have convinced myself," said Anne, “that any small or temporary change would be totally useless, and that to do what I wish, and gain the oblivion I hope for, it will be necessary for me to divert the whole current of my life. I have therefore been making inquiries with regard to emigration and I have been lucky enough to find that Herr Schapwinkel, the farmer at Derendorf, is about to emigrate with his family to the Western States of America. They hope to start next week, and they are willing to take me with them." "You going to America!" cried Grace, "to "Will you explain in what way they are emigrate with a German farmer's family! You, changed?" asked Grace. "That," said Anne, "is easily done. I am painfully conscious that the old feeling between with your education and taste to be the companion of such people! In what capacity do you propose to go, in Heaven's name ?" VOL. VI.-19 "To do whatever I may be able to undertake; to make myself generally useful," said Anne, with a sad smile. "Do you know the grasping, grinding nature of people of this class?" cried Grace; "do you know that they will take advantage of your being weak and unprotected, and whatever they may say to the contrary, will take the first opportunity of reducing you to the level of a servant ?" "I do not think so badly of them as that," said Anne; "and even if I did, I am not sure that it would prevent my acceptance of their offer. There is nothing like hard work and a rough life to root out old memories, and prepare the mind for the proper reception of new experiences." "But have you no defined position with themno agreement of what you are to do ?" "Oh, yes," said Anne; "I am to teach the children English on the voyage out, and be general interpreter and household manager when we first settle down. They are rough people, as you say, but they are essentially kind and honest, and seem to have great confidence in me." was all. For weeks she had vainly contended with the painful sense of concealment and wint of confidence which had come between them, and had had more than one idea of going away on a prolonged tour, accompanied by a maid, leaving Anne to preside over the household in the Poppelsdorfer Allee, and to take care of the invald and the professor. She was not yet sure that she would not propose such a plan, which, besides providing for herself change of scene, would have the advantage of securing a kind and watchful nurse for Madame Sturm, whose helplessness increased daily, and would prevent the necessity for Anne's going away. That there should be a temporary separation between them, Grace felt was needful; during a spell of absence the asperities now existing would be forgotten, and the rough edges of recent discussions worn down, but there was no earthly reason why that separation, instead of being temporary, should be eternal; or way Anne, in her desire to get away, should place herself wholly beyond any chance of recall. The Western States of America were, in Grace's imagination-based upon a perusal of Cooper's nov els-entirely given up to buffaloes, trappers, Irdians, and leather-stockinged scouts; and she fully believed that Anne, once settled there, in the midst of the German family in which she proposed to surround herself, might be looked upon as dead and buried; in short, that some solution of the difficulty was desirable, but some better means to the end than those suggested might be found. "A feeling which you strangely reciprocate. It is too horrible, Anne, to think of your going away to such a place, and with such people; and though, of course, I have no right to interfere with your actions, or to make any objection to anything you may choose to do, I do not think it ought to be allowed. By-the-way," said Grace, suddenly changing her tone, "where do these people sail from-from Liverpool ?" "Oh no," said Anne; they go out in one of the North German Lloyd's steamers, from Bremen." "Then they have nothing to do with England?" of dominion over her. She could not make up said Grace, apparently relieved. 66 "Yes," said Anne, "I believe they put into Southampton, but only for a few hours, and of course I should not think of going on shore." Although in her first startled surprise Grace Middleham had denounced Anne's avowal of her intention to leave her friends and commence a new life, yet, when she reflected upon all that had passed, and upon the division confessedly existing between those who had been so devoted to each other, she could not help admitting to herself that the course which Anne proposed to take was for the best. Grace was surprised at Anne's declaration, and yet it was not wholly unexpected; it had come to her suddenly, and before its time, that These were Grace Middleham's better thoughts; but there were others which, not unfrequently, occupied her mind and exercised a certain amount her mind to forget or forgive the deception prac ticed upon her, in bringing her away from London by false representations; and though, as has been said, she occasionally half-admitted to herself that her supposed passion for Heath had no real foundation, and was, in reality, tolerably reconciled to his loss, she still resented the fact of having been duped. Anne had deceived her in that matter, and Grace found it impossible to place further confidence in her. The thought that her quondam friend would not scruple at any further deception, had induced Grace to ask whether Anne would visit England before sailing for America; and though, at the time, she had been satisfied with the reply, yet, on thinking over the conversation again, and remembering Anne's avowal that the ship would touch at Southampton, Grace conceived the wild idea that Anne had made up her mind to take that opportunity of seeing or communicating with Heath. So possessed was she by this notion, that the bitter feeling of jealousy towards Anne, of which she had almost cured herself, was renewed in fullest force. Under the influence of it she almost brought herself to believe that the whole story of the intended emigration was deception; and that Anne had adopted this roundabout means of effecting her departure, to do away with any clue to her future hiding-place, or, at least, if she went to America with the Schapwinkels, she would be joined at Southampton by Heath, and they would go together. This idea obtained such sway over her that, abnegating the self-command and the dignity usually so characteristic of her, Grace determined upon testing the truth of her belief. Accordingly, one morning, when she knew that Anne was in attendance on the invalid, she entered her aunt's sitting-room, where she found not merely Anne, but the professor, who was giving an account of a musical party at which he had been a guest the previous evening, and whose utter inability to give any information as to the dresses of the ladies present was being querulously deplored by his wife. After the usual salutations, Grace took advantage of a pause in the conversation to ask Anne whether she had had any letters from England that morning. Anne, with some astonishinent, replied in the negative. There was no one in England to write to her, and no news thence could possibly interest her. "I am not so sure of that," said Grace, speaking deliberately. "If what I hear is true, my informant, who is likely to be correct in such matters, tells me that changes are about to be made in Middleham's Bank." "I cannot imagine," said Anne, quietly, "that any one could give you information on such a subject. From your position, you must necessarily be consulted on any proposed alteration, and nothing could be carried out without your consent." "This," said Grace, "is merely a hint of what will later on be brought before me officially, I imagine; at present I am supposed to know nothing about it." "I hope things are not going wrong, my dear," said Madame Sturm; "you are not likely to lose any of your money, are you?" "Oh no, aunt, I trust not," replied Grace; "the hint which I have received is that Mr. Heath, the manager of the bank, and to whom its great prosperity is supposed to be due, and who is, I should say, a great friend of-of Mrs. Waller's here-is about to give up his long-held position, and retire into the country, there to lead a rural and domestic life." "Mr. Heath could not possibly have any interest for me," said Anne, coldly. "Not even if he were to emigrate to America, as has been suggested ?" asked Grace, suddenly. "Not even if he were to emigrate to America," repeated Anne, in measured tones, but with flaming cheeks, for the shaft had gone home, and she knew the motive by which it had been sped. "This Mr. Heath must have made money, I suppose?" asked Madame Sturm, fortunately coming to the rescue. "I-I do not know. I suppose he has," said Grace, half dazed, and not knowing whether to take Anne's flush as a sign of innocence or guilt. "Lor' bless you, yes, my dear, of course he has," said Madame Sturm; while he has been collecting a fortune for you, he has naturally put by a little for himself; and why a man, who has anything decent to live upon in England, can want to go muddling away and emigrating to America I cannot understand.” "I think, dear Madame Sturm," said Anne, rising, quietly crossing the room, and seating herself by the invalid's bedside, "that I will take this opportunity of saying what must have come sooner or later, and what indeed I had made up my mind to mention to you within the next day or two. On Monday next I am going to say farewell to you—I am going away.' "Going away, Waller!" cried Madame Sturm; "why, bless my soul, you have only just come back. Where on earth are you going to?" "To the place about which you have just been speaking-to America!" "To America?" cried the Frau Professorin, "that is a long way off-you could scarcely go. further.' "Or fare worse, according to your notion," said Anne, with a smile. "I do not mean that in all instances," said Madame Sturm. "If you have any money, as this banking man no doubt has-having taken care to feather his nest well while he was about it -then you had better stop in England; but I should think, from all I have read, that America is perhaps the best place for a young woman who is poor, and who wants a husband-not that I mean by that that you do, my dear Waller. I dare say, though you have never opened your mind about it, that you had quite enough worry with your first; but, I understand, America is a good place to make your fortune in, and the men there who take wives look to the women, and not to the dowry which she can bring." "I have given but little consideration to that part of the subject," said Anne, "but I feel that I need a more active life, and am likely to find it there." "Well, I only know I shall be heartily sorry to lose you, Waller," said the Frau Professorin; "you have been a real treasure to me, and how I shall get on without you, I do not know. But what does Grace say to your going-oh, I did not know she had left the room. Professor, do you hear Waller leaves us next Monday; she is going to emigrate to America. What do you think of America, professor ?" The professor's opinion of America was not a very high one. He declared it to be a country which imported its literature, and looking at it from that standpoint, he regarded it with great contempt. But he, like his wife, was much grieved at the threatened loss of "Vallere," as he called her, and did not shrink from openly expressing his regret. Monday was the day fixed for Anne's departure, and Grace was growing uncomfortable as to the leave-taking which would have to be gone through. Her bitter indignation against her former friend still retained its newly-acquired holi over her, but she could not contemplate the idea of parting forever from one with whom she had been so closely allied, without a considerable amount of heart-sinking and wretchedness. As the day approached, all the memories of their former affection, the love of their childish days, the confidence of their maturer years, came thronging upon Grace in such profusion that her heart was melted; and one night, in the solitude of her chamber, she determined to go to Anse and implore that the old alliance between them might be renewed. Very early the next morning, before the household was astir, she rose, and wrapping her dressing gown round her, opened her door with the intention of proceeding to her, friend's room; something which had been placed upon the door-handle fell from it at her touch. It was a note. Picking it up, Grace saw it to be in Anne's handwriting, and read the following lines: "When you receive this, I shall be some distance on my road. I have felt so unequal to bidding you a personal farewell, that I have resorted to this means of saying 'good-bye' to you forever. I have never had any wish to deceive you, and therefore I do not pretend that the story I told you in answer to your inquiry is the true one; but it is the most conclusive explanation for Madame Sturm. To you I offer none. You will never hear of me again, but I shall have the satisfaction of carrying with me the assurance that I have proved to the utmost the gratitude I feel for you my only friend in the past, the sole memory of good and peace which remains of one who must henceforth be alone in the world.-A." MISS SEWARD'S MONODY ON THE DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. PERHAPS no name is more universally known in connection with Revolutionary times than that of Major André, and yet comparatively few general, readers know anything of the man beyond the fact of his arrest as a spy, his trial and execution. The reproduction of these matters at this stage in the history of the Republic, may not be uninteresting. 1 Major André was a remarkably handsome man, noted for the elegance of his manner, and his splendid talent for poetry, music and painting; a most accomplished gentleman, and always considered a brave and promising officer. During his younger manhood he was engaged, nominally, in mercantile pursuits. During this period he became the affianced husband of the belle of English soci |