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 ONE DEPARTED.

someway I did not exactly like to hear Ned even twist this glorious melody into mirth-provoking renditions ; so, thinking deeply, and expecting my lover to join me every moment, I wandered alone by the side of the ocean, until I came to a little sheltered nook between high rocks, which looked so tempting, that I sat down to rest. The breeze was blowing fresh and cool. The surf rolled in, breast high, breaking on the shining beach in front of me, with a noise almost like thunder. In the distance, the lighthouse, perched on its tall cliff, rose, lofty and gray. The birds were drifting in shore, far overhead, screaming as if to announce a coming storm. Far and near, the wide beach, below the cliffs, was covered with members of our picnic, some gathering sea-weed, some reclining where the sand was dry, some walking. In my little nook I could see all this, myself unobserved.

Suddenly I recognized Ned's deep sonorous tones; and soon after Nellie's musical little jingle. Even then I was not surprised. They drew nearer, and stopped, just on the other side of the bit of rock which formed one of the walls of my sheltered nook. I looked through a crack, between this huge boulder and the cliff behind it, and saw Ned and Nellie, the wind blowing the latter's plume, and hair, and dress about, as she gazed out seaward. The thick screen effectually concealed me. I kept very quiet, intending to jump out and surprise them, by-and-by.

"But, Nellie !" I heard my darling say, in those same low, earnest tones, which had so often flooded my soul with their melody, " I love you."

"But, Ned," came slowly from Nellie's lips, as she still looked seaward, “ you are engaged to Sophie Alliston!"

"Not a bit of it, my dear girl; you never were more mistaken in your life. Sophie is a charming girl-I may say a very lovely girl but then not a word of marriage has ever passed our lips."

That was true; strange I had never thought of it until now. "Can you love me, Nellie? Will you love me?" I heard no reply ; but I saw that Nellie's curly head reclined, for a moment, on Ned's shoulder, as he drew her toward him. I rose noiselessly and walked away in the opposite direction , dizzy, weak, my eyes full of tears. But, half an hour later, when the truants returned, I was carelessly weaving a garland of leaves for my hat, and chatting gayly with a circle of friends. "Why, Sophie, where have you been all this time-Nellie and I have been hunting you all over ?" said Ned, without a cloud upon his handsome face. "Yes, dear?" was my quiet reply. Then I added, " But let me whisper a little word in your ear, good Ned!" The dear fellow dropped playfully on one knee, and looked up at me, like a knight of old romance regarding his ladye-love. "Ned," I said, coolly, " I think we have both enjoyed this summer ; and now that it is about over, this seems to me the appropriate time for you and I to forget the past, and seek elsewhere for the joy we have tried to persuade ourselves we had found in each other." Ned looked just a little disconcerted : but it was only momentary. 66 But we can always be friends, Sophie ?" he asked, looking down at the hat I was trimming. "Always, Ned." I gave him my hand to shake in token of friendship and good- will ; and thus ended my first love-lesson. Strange, too, as it may seem, I shall always preserve a warm niche in my heart for Ned. Yet may a kind Providence protect me from ever again possessing a lover whose character is marked with the one most desirable of all traits, adaptability. Nellie is a happy wife, but she did not marry Ned Williams; and the last I heard of the latter was, that he was making desperate love to a young New York widow.

ONE DEPARTED.

BY FRANK MAURICE FIELDING. As few could mourn, I mourn for thee, Yet silently, as bitterly! In grief that speaks no word, That breathes no sigh, that sheds no tear, With any living witness near, Whose wail is never heard. Oh! best and loveliest one, conldst thou But gaze into my lone heart now, And read its hidden woe,

Thine angel heart would be distressed: Within thy grave thou couldst not rest While I was suffering so! Rest calmly, sweet one, knowing not The bitterness of my hard lot, Nor how I mourn for thee! But if thou e'er didst doubt my love, My secret tears of suffering prove, How dear thou wert to me!