"Well!" said A, "at last that unhappy man has discovered some one bold enough to take his haunted house; or perhaps, after all, he is merely endeavoring to decoy the unwary passenger! We shall see."

'A few weeks determined the question; for, after the house had been duly cleansed and beautified, and the odor of the paint suffered to fade away, various articles of furniture were brought into the rooms. These were of moderate price, and explained to us that the new tenant was a person of respectable station, but not rich. We began to feel a wish to know "what manner of man" he was. Our interest in the once empty house had received a new impulse; and we looked out, day after day, for the stranger's ar rival.

'At last a young man, of lively and agreeable presence, was one morning seen giving directions to a female servant, about the disposition of the furniture. This was evidently the master of the mansion. He stayed for half an hour, and then departed; and he repeated his short visit daily. He was probably a clerk in some public office, a merchant, or professional man, whose time was required elsewhere. But, why did he not reside there? That was a problem that we strove to solve in vain. In the end, he went away altogether.

"Each morn we missed him in th' accustomed room."

* And now no one, except the solitary maid, was seen throwing open the windows in the morning to let in the vernal May; closing them at night; rubbing with a

delicate hand the new furniture; gazing at the unknown neighborhood; or sitting listlessly in the afternoon, "imparadised" in rustic dreams, she appeared to be the sole spirit of the spot. It was not the "genius loci" which we had reckoned upon. Our imaginations were not satisfied; and we looked forward confidently to another comer.

He went away; far as we could Everything was

We were not disappointed. After the lapse of a fortnight from the young man's departure, our inquisitive eyes discovered him again. He was sitting at breakfast with a lady by his side. Pretty, young, neat, and attired from head to foot in white, she was evidently a bride. We rushed at once upon this conjecture; and certain tender manifestations, on the husband's leavetaking, confirmed us in our opinion. and she, left to herself, explored, as observe, all the rooms of the house. surveyed with a patient admiration; every drawer opened; the little book-case contemplated, and its slender rows of books all, one by one, examined. Finally, the maid was called up, some inquiries made, and the survey recommenced. The lady had now some one to encourage her open expressions of delight. We could almost fancy that we heard her words - How beautiful this is! What a comfortable sofa! What a charming screen! How kind, how good, how considerate of It was altogether a pretty scene.

!"

'Let us pass over the autumn and winter months. During a portion of this time, we ourselves were absent in the country; and when at home, we remember but little of what happened. There was little or no variety

to remark upon; or, possibly, our curiosity had become abated.

'At last, spring came, and with it came a thousand signs of cheerfulness and life. The plane put forth its tender leaves; the sky grew blue overhead, (even in London ;) and the windows of the once melancholy house shone blushing with many flowers. So May passed; and June came on, with its air all rich with roses. But the lady? - Ah! her cheek now waxed pale, and her step grew weak and faltering. Sometimes she ventured into her small garden, when the sun was full upon it. All other times she might be seen wearied with needle-work, or sitting languidly alone; or, when her husband was at home (before and after his hours of business), she walked a little, to and fro, leaning on him for support. His devotion increased with her infirmity. It was curious to observe how love had tamed the high and frolicsome spirit of the man. A joyous and perhaps common manner became serious and refined. The weight of thought lay on him, the responsibility of love. It is thus that, in some natures, love is wanting to their full development. It raises, and refines, and magnifies the intellect, which else would remain dull, trival and prostrate. From a seeming barrenness, the human mind springs at once into fertility, from vagueness into character, from dullness into vigor and beauty, under the "charming-wand” of love.

'But let us proceed :

'On a glittering night in August, we saw lights flashing about the house, and people hurrying up and

down, as on some urgent occasion. By degrees the tumult subsided; the passings backwards and forwards became less frequent; and at last tranquillity was restored. A single light, burning in an upper window, alone told that some one kept watch throughout the night. The next morning the knocker of the house was (we were told) shrouded in white leather; and the lady had brought her husband a child! We drank to its health in wine.

'For a few days quiet hung upon the house. But it was doomed speedily to depart. Hurry and alarm came again. Lights were seen once more flickering to and fro. The physician's carriage was heard. It came, and departed. The maid now held her apron to her eyes. The husband burying his face in his hands, strove (how vainly!) to hide a world of grief. Ere long the bed-room window was thrown open; the shutters of the house were closed, and in a week a hearse was at the door. The mystery was at an end; she was dead!

'She died! No poet ever wove around her the gaudy tissue of his verse. The grave she sleeps in is probably nothing more than the common mould. Her name even is unknown. But what of this? She lived and died, and was lamented. The proudest can boast of little more. She made the light and happiness of one mortal creature, fond and fragile as herself- and for a name, a tomb? Alas! for all the purposes of love, nothing is wanted save a little earth-nothing but to know the spot where the beloved one rests for We fear, indeed, to give the creature whom we have hoarded in our hearts to the deep and ever-shift

ever.

ing waters, to the oblivion of the sea! We desire to know where it is that we have laid our fading treasure. Otherwise, the pilgrimage is as easy and as painful to the simple church-yard hillock, as to the vault in which a king reposes. The gloomy arches of stately tombs, what are they to the grandeur of the overhanging heavens! and the cold and ghastly marble, how poor and hideous it is, in comparison with the turf whereon many a daisy grows!

'The child survived. The cares lately exhausted on another, were now concentrated on a little child. The solemn doctors came, and prescribed for it, and took their golden fees. The nurse transferred to it her ready smiles. The services which had been purchased for the mother, were now the property of another claimant. Even the father turned towards it all of his heart which was not in the grave. It was part of her who had strewn sunshine in his path; and he valued it accordingly.

'But all would not do. A month, 66 a little month," and the shutters were again closed. Another funeral followed swiftly upon the last. The mother and her child were again together.

From this period a marked change arose in the man's character. The grief which had bowed him down at his wife's death, (relieved a little by the care which he bestowed upon her child,) now changed to a sullen or reckless indifference. In the morning he was clouded and oppressed; but at night, a mad and dissonant jollity (the madness of wine) usurped the