you be than

wanting."

many others, if you are found

Mr. Laurence had great power over the mind of Eliza; she both reverenced and loved him. She looked upon him as one of the wisest and best of mankind; but now, at this moment, when about to receive the first embrace of her only remaining parent, to hear the tones of his voice blessing her for the first time, to see him and to be seen by him, she could not give that whole and undivided attention to the precepts of this long known and familiar friend, which he had been used to command: she could not still the tumult of a heart that was beating more and more wildly every moment; and Mr. Laurence dropt the conversation and left nature to her course.

I cannot chide her, said he internally, these are nature's fresh and beautiful feelings, over which the blight has not yet passed. It will come soon enough. Why should I seek to hasten it. Yet

disappointment would have been less poignant had I prepared its way. She does not know her father!

Thus on the evening of the second day, fatigued in body, but high in hope, Eliza stopt at her father's lodgings.

It was now Mr. Laurence's turn to yield to human weakness, but he did it under the feeling of delicacy. I will not be present on their first interview. I should only be a restraint. Some other time-but not to night. I will conquer myself, and meet him as a friend.

Eliza scarcely heard Mr. Laurence tell her of his intention of going on to the residence of a friend at Richmond. She was almost unconscious of the pressure of his hand when he bade her farewell. Every feeling and every remembrance were swallowed up in one.

Eliza was received by the mistress of the house, and conducted by her into a handsome drawing room: but here a terrible and unthought of disappointment awaited

her. Her father was from home. "Out! impossible!" cried she, "he expects me this very night!" But it was true; and Eliza, as soon as she was alone, threw herself upon a sofa in an agony of grief and tears, a feeling of sickening disappointment succeeding the warm glow of high wrought intense expectation.

Yes! he had gone, as she was told, on a party of pleasure into the country, for two or three days; and Eliza was left alone, on her arrival in a strange town, to spend some of the most miserable hours of her life; and how were those hours embittered by recollections, that would not be controlled: remembrance told of a parent's neglect; and the conviction chilled the warm glow of the child's affectionate heart.

In the catalogue of human woes, can there be one more poignant than unrequited feelings! To feel we are indifferent to beings on whom we would gladly bestow our best affections-to pay the

debt of love without the due return-to lavish our highest riches on regardless objects!

Eliza felt all this, without daring to own it, even to herself. Two tedious days glided by, comprised of minutes, long as lovers feign them; but the third brought her father:-the world-its dross -its tinsel-its chilling experience-can never surely entirely conquer nature in the heart; and Mr. Massenburg felt his child inexpressibly dearer to him than he had imagined, while he clasped her to his breast; and Eliza confessed it the richest moment of her life.

A word of apology will often satisfy those who desire to be satisfied; and after Mr. Massenburg had said, with a very kind air, "You would perhaps think me unkind, my love, in not being here to receive you, and more especially as it is the first time Eliza ever saw her father; but, believe me, my absence was unavoidable,"

Eliza was angry with herself for having admitted a murmur.

Mr. Massenburg seated his daughter, and drew a chair opposite. She longed to survey his features, and read their expression; but when she did dare to raise her eyes, they met his employed in a similar investigation, and she drooped beneath his scrutiny. A few moments of silence thus passed away, which contributed not a little to increase her disorder, till at length Mr. Massenburg, either satisfied with his survey, or pitying her embarrassment, turned his head away with a slight smile, which said plainly enough, 'Now it is your turn.'

Eliza compared him with her mental portrait, and was obliged to confess there was no resemblance. It was true he was handsome, but it was in a very different style from what she had pictured. Instead of a mild blue eye, like Mr. Laurence's, those that were now shadowed