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The Emerald Studs. only have I seen a chasm in that envious veil—only once and for a few, a very few momentss, have I gazed upon the blue empyrean, and felt my heart expand and thrill to the glories of its liquid lustre. That once—oh, Mr Strachan, can I ever forget it?—that once comprises the era of the few hours which were the silent witnesses of our meeting!

"Am I weak in writing to you lliii-'.' 1'erhap- I am; hut then, Thomas, I have never been ta-ught to dissemble. Did I, however, think it probable that we should ever meet Again that I should hear from your lips a repetition of that language which now is chron- icled in my soul it may be that I would not have dared to risk an avowal so candid and so dear ! As it is, it matters not. You have been my benefactor, my kind consoler my friend. You have told me that you love ; and in the fulness and native simplicity of my heart, I believe you. And if it be any satisfaction to you to know that your sentiments have been at least appreciated, believe that of all the pangs which the poor Dorothea lias suffered, this last agony of part- ing has been incomparably the most 're. ' You asked me if there was no hope. Oh, my Thomas ! what wonld I not give could I venture to answer, yes ? But it cannot be ! You are young and happy, and will yet be fortu- nate and beloved : why, then, should I permit so fair an existence to be blighted by the upas-tree of destiny under which I am doomed to languish? You shall not say that I am selfish you shall not hereafter reproach me for having permitted you to share a burden too great for both of us/to carry. You must learn the one great lesson of existence, to submit and to forget ! 41 1 am going far away, to the mar- gin of that inhospitable shore which receives upon its rocks the billows of the unbroken Atlantic or haply, amongst the remoter isles, I shall listen to the seamew's cry. Do not weep for me. Amidst the myriad of bright and glowing things which Hatter over the surface of this green creation, let one feeble, choking, over- burdened heart be forgotten ! Follow me not seek me not for, like the mermaid on the approach of the mari- [Aug. ncr, I should shrink from the face of man into the Classy caverns of the deep. Adieu. Thorn-is, adieu! Say what }ou will for me to the noble and gcii- eroii- lieerie. Would to heaen that 3 could send him ,-ome token in return for all his kindness, but a good and gallant heart i- it- .-wi; nio>t adequate reward. "They arc putting to the horses I can hear the nimble of the chariot ! Oh, once more, door friend alas, too inexpressibly dear! take my last farewell. Adieu my heart is break- ing as I write the bitter ord ! forget me. DOROTHEA." "I>o you wonder at my sorrow now ?" said Strachan, as I laid down the passionate epistle. " Why, no. It is well got up upon the whole, and does credit to the lady's erudition. But I don't sec why she should in-i-i so strongly upon eternal separation. Have you no idea where- abouts that aant of hers may happen to reside ? " u Not the slightest." " Because, judging from her letter, it most be somewhere about Benbecola or Tiree. I shouldn't even wonder if she had a summer box on St Kilda." u Right ! 1 did not think of that you observe she speaks of the remoter isles." " To be sure, and for half a century there has not been a mermaid seen to the east of the Lewis. Now, take my advice, Tom don't make a fool t>l yourself in the meantime, but wait until the Conrt of Session rises in July. That will allow plenty of time for matters to settle: and if the old Viscount and that abominable Abiram don't find ler out before then, you may depend upon it they will abandon the search. In the interim, the lady will have cooled. Walks upon the sea-shore are uncommonly dull with- out something like reciprocal senti- mentality. The odds are. that the old aunt is addicted to snuff, tracts, and the distribution of flannel, and before August, the fair Dorothea will be yeaniing for a sight of her adorer. You can easily gammon Anthony Whaup into a loan of that yacht of his which he makes such a boast of; and if you go prudently about it. and flatter him on the score of his steering,