fulness by us.

Our resignation will spare my

many a pang,

father and we must assure him that we are ready and willing to give up everything: your pretty cottage and ponies, Evemy prospects as a soldier,-nay, start not, my sister, or look so incredulous-that trial -and it was a trial-is now over. It would be now a subject for the keenest self-reproach, did I for a moment dare to think of embarking in a profession which, far from enabling me to assist my family, would only entail on it expenses. No, Evelyn, I shall never go into the army. Thanks to the education I have received, my knowledge of languages will doubtless get me a situation in some office, which will be a means of subsistence for myself, if it does not permit me to contribute to the comforts of my parents. My boyish dream of distinction and glory has all faded away," he added with a faint smile; "mathematics, and all my Sandhurst lore, must now be for

gotten: but rely on my words, Evelyn," he continued, seeing his sister was about to interrupt him, with words of commiseration, at this sacrifice of his warmest hopes, "we insure to ourselves far greater peace of mind, by submitting with resignation to the decrees of the Almighty, than by opposition, or repinings at His will and, even should the knowledge of fulfilled duties, and patiently endured misfortunes, fail to soothe the wounded spirit, at the first outset, we may depend much on the efficacy of prayer."

Evelyn did not reply: her young heart was struggling with so many contending feelings, she dared not trust her voice; and she longed for the privacy of her own apartment, where she might for a time hide her sorrows, and strive to gain that self-possession, which she felt was necessary before she could meet her mother, whom they both rightly guessed was still in ignorance of the misfortunes they

had been discussing. She therefore rose to quit her brother, and they parted with a fond, though mournful, embrace, which told that in their mutual and pure affection, there was still much of consolation for the ills of life.

CHAPTER V.

"Oh! man may bear with suffering: his heart
Is a strong thing, and godlike in the grasp
Of pain that wrings mortality; but tear
One cord affection clings to, part one tie
That binds him to a woman's delicate love,
And his great spirit yieldeth like a reed.”

ONE month after the scene described in the foregoing chapter, the evils there anticipated, were realized to a fearful extent by the Cecil family. Having already exhausted every possible channel for relief, the unhappy, and now awakened author of all this ruin, saw in what a fatal position he stood.

There remained but one quarter where he

had not sought assistance. It was the last to be applied to, and that application cost the proud heart of the still high-minded Cecil more than any other. It was to his rich and powerful sister he at length addressed himself, for the innocent victims to his blind extravagance. For their sakes, he humbled himself to supplication; but as we have before related, was spurned with bitter reproaches and denial. Nothing then remained for him but to leave England, with as much expedition and secrecy as possible, otherwise his arrest would have inevitably occurred, to have heaped still further misery, on the heads of his unhappy wife and family. They would joyfully have accompanied him in his flight, but there were two obstacles to this; the illness of the youngest child; and the fragile strength of Mrs. Cecil, whose trials, added to her expectation of adding in a few months, another to the number of the little helpless beings who