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 "But I cannot consent to your sitting up alone."

"Well, then—let me see. Oh! suppose then I bring Jones, my gardener, with me. He's a very sleepy fellow, it's true, but I'll manage to keep him awake."

"Very well, my dear sir; by all means let him come. I do not care who it is, so long as you have some one with you."

"Then that is decided: Jones comes with me. What time do you usually retire to rest?"

"About ten, or half-past."

"Then at ten o'clock precisely, we'll be here. When those shutters are closed and the curtains are drawn no light can be seen, I believe?"

"Not a ray."

"Then at ten, my dear madam, expect us. It will of course be necessary for you to let us in."

"Of course. I will be at the window at that hour precisely."

The reverend gentleman then took his leave, and Aunt Eleanor congratulated herself on the prospect of the mystery being cleared up. She, at the same time, resolved on having an excellent supper on the table, with wine, whiskey, brandy, and books, that there might be no lack of food, of either an animal or an intellectual character; and having, in pursuance of this wise resolution, arranged all her plans, she felt as if a weight had been removed from her heart, and became quite joyous and gay.

Oh, how easily are we elevated—how easily depressed—and when analysed, what puppets we appear, not always the puppets of others, but frequently our own—acting by virtue of the very strings which we pull—the creatures of the very circumstances of which we are the creators—but at all times puppets. It is strange that the human mind—which is often so powerful in its resistance to oppression, so strict in its adherence to principle, so firm in its pursuit of all that is noble, just, virtuous, and true, should be swayed by mere trifles: yet, while possessing all the elements of strength, so it is. A single word may cause our spirits either to rise or to sink: a mere thought of our own may either plunge us into despair, or place us upon the very apex of hope. A cork at sea is more constant than we are; the under-currents may swell and roll, but it still retains its position on the surface: whereas, we are the sport of every wave—the slightest ripple may upset us. No matter how strong the mind may be, the loftiest, the mightiest, may be wrought upon by trifles. Men scale a mountain and stumble over a brick.

We are not, it is true, all equally sanguine; but when we are depressed, how soon may we be elated, and how frequently are we, by virtue of viewing the veriest bubbles which Hope can blow. At such a time that which is nothing per se, may be made to amount to a great deal per saltum.

In the suggestion of Aunt Eleanor's reverend friend, there was, however, something in reality. The course proposed was, perhaps, the only one at all calculated to lead to the achievement of the object in view. But Aunt Eleanor, instead of waiting for that achievement, viewed the object as being already achieved, in so far as that, after that night, she