"Shall I pass this spot?-shall Heathfield be unvisited ?"

There was one family in the village, which I remembered with the pleasantest feelings imaginable; and that was the family of the rector. Mr. Hervey had once three children; when I first knew him, a son and two daughters. But the eldest girl, as I learned from my uncle, had married, and the boy had died; and now there was only Ellen. But Ellen was the youngest and the most beloved; and, whilst all-in-all to her parents, she was the delight of the whole village; for she was very kind to the poor.

Now Ellen Hervey and I, when quite children, had loved one another. Love is a word not to be profaned, so I will say that we clave to one another. "If you were to give the name of Hervey to a dog, I should love it," said Samuel Johnson. Now, I could not love a dog under any name; but I was very fond of Ellen Hervey.

It was a foolish sort of infantine preference, and it was much talked of in the village. We liked to be in company with each other; and we went out together in the fields; and, when we sat side by side, the day was never too long. And then, again, "children's parties" were frequent in the neighbourhood of Heathfield; and Ellen and I would dance together for the whole livelong evening, and not

find it wearisome in the least. I am not sure that I was the seeker, for, methinks, I can remember the time when the fair young creature's attentions were irksome to me, and I would fain have been quit of them; for my play-fellows laughed at me, and Ellen was called, amongst them, Mrs. Claude. But Ellen did not care for this.

However, I was very much annoyed. Besides, I was four years older than Ellen; and four years, just at the very threshold of life, constitutes a great disparity of age. It is the nature of boys, when they love, to fix upon some one much older than themselves; young affection has an upturned face; and I was forced to look down upon Ellen. But, in process of time, it fell out, that I looked upon the young maiden's advances with kindly sentiments, and I smiled upon her; for, to tell the truth, my vanity was much flattered.

Now, Ellen had a cousin, named Albert, who sometimes spent his holidays at the rectory. He was a fine boy, with light flowing hair, and he cast a fond eye upon Ellen. But it happened that I was the favoured one; for I had many and great advantages, of which poor Albert was destitute. I went to a better school; I had a pony to ride; and whenever I went to the rectory, I was always treated as company, whilst Albert was thrust into the back ground; so that when we two appeared

together, the superiority was always on my side. There could not in the whole world have been a more amiable boy than Albert; but he was the son of a poor gentleman, and was merely on sufferance at Heathfield. Now Albert and I fought. I was the strongest boy of the two, so poor Albert was beaten. He was very low-spirited after this; so I took pity on him and lent him my pony, and was otherwise kindly disposed towards him. But he never held up his head as before; for Ellen still smiled upon me.

When I went out to India, I was a man, whilst Ellen was still in the nursery; so that I treated her in a childish manner; I was kind to her and made her little presents; and I taught her to read Greek. I did not fear to be laughed at then, for I mixed with full-grown people, and I spoke patronizingly to Ellen. But I fondled the young thing, and called her my "little favourite ;" and when I went to dine with her father, I would go there before the time, that I might drink tea with Ellen up stairs; for she was scarcely fourteen years old, and not very tall of her age; besides, she was still in the nursery.

But she was the prettiest little creature in the world, and I wish that she had been my sister; for I had no sister of my own, and Ellen was made for a pet. She was so gentle, and so full of inno

cence,

and her voice was so very sweet, that she might have soothed the most troubled spirit, and made music in a jarring soul. Then her figure was so delicate; yet, withal, it was so gracefully rounded, that she might have stood as a model for Psyche, in the first purity of her youth,-a nymph, and not yet an immortal.

Ellen was a fragile branch of a not very sturdy tree. Her complexion was so clear and so transparent, you would have thought that the light shone through it. The whole aspect of her face betokened less of health than of loveliness; for her cheeks were like lilies at sun-set, when the last blush of day falls upon them; they were not utterly pale. And then she had the most beautiful yellow hair, streaming like spun gold, and glittering quite brightly in the sun; with blue, crystalline eyes, and the tiniest little hands and feet that ever were seen in the universe. You would have looked at her and felt quite sad; for you would have said, "She is too little earthy, to live long in this world."

As I rode on, I thought of Ellen; and of all her endearing qualities. I wondered whether she had grown much since my eventful departure from England. Then, I said, "She is a woman now, -seventeen years and upwards; may-be, she has forgotten Claude Jerningham." And then I

heaved a deep sigh; and thinking that I was waxing sentimental, I urged my horse into a brisk trot; but,-I turned his head towards Heathfield.

Half an hour's sharp riding, and I was opposite Mr. Hervey's rectory. There was a large oak-tree on the opposite side of the road: it was said to be many centuries old; for it was quite hollow, and there was a seat within it; and often, in my boyish days, had I concealed myself there out of frolic;-and there were the initials, E. H., and C. J. carved, in rude characters upon the bark, and girt about with a doubtful circle, very unmathematically described. But it was the work of Ellen and myself; and we were mere children when we did it.

I drew up my horse beside the oak. There was a view, from this spot, of the house, which had erst been tenanted by my uncle; and, as I took pleasure in limning, I determined to make a sketch of the place; and, for that purpose, I dismounted beneath the oak.

I had very fair knowledge of the picturesque; and I was looked upon as an able draftsman. It was my custom, whenever I went abroad, to carry a small sketch-book along with me; and now, that I had set out upon my travels, I had taken care to provide myself with apparatus, in case I should fall