burden, for the young creature immediately before her, who, with her downcast eyes intently fixed upon the fire, sat wrapped in silent meditation.

She was very young; apparently no more than seventeen; timid and shrinking in her manner, and yet with a greater share of self possession and control over her emotions than usually belongs to a far more advanced period of female life. This she had abundantly shown, but now, in her tending of the sick gentleman. She was short in stature; and her figure was slight, as became her years; but all the charms of youth and maidenhood set it off, and clustered on her gentle brow. Her face was very pale, in part no doubt from recent agitation. Her dark brown hair, disordered from the same cause, had fallen negligently from its bonds, and hung upon her neck: for which instance of its way wardness no male observer would have had the heart to blame it.

Her attire was that of a lady, but extremely plain; and in her manner, even when she sat as still as she did then, there was an indefinable something which appeared to be in kindred with her scrupulously unpretending dress. She had sat, at first looking anxiously towards the bed; but seeing that the patient remained quiet, and was busy with his writing, she had softly moved her chair into its present place: partly, as it seemed, from an instinctive consciousness that he desired to avoid observation: and partly that she might, unseen by him, give some vent to the natural feelings she had hitherto suppressed.

Of all this, and much more, the rosy landlady of the Blue Dragon took as accurate note and observation as only woman can take of woman. And at length she said, in a voice too low, she knew, to reach the bed:

`You have seen the gentleman in this way before, miss? Is he used to these attacks?'

`I have seen him very ill before, but not so ill as he has been tonight.'

`What a Providence!' said the landlady of the Dragon, `that you had the prescriptions and the medicines with you, miss!'

`They are intended for such an emergency. We never travel without them.'

`Oh!' thought the hostess, `then we are in the habit of travelling, and of travelling together.'

She was so conscious of expressing this in her face, that meeting the young lady's eyes immediately afterwards, and being a very honest hostess, she was rather confused.

`The gentleman--your grandpapa'--she resumed, after a short pause, `being so bent on having no assistance, must terrify you very much, miss?'

`I have been very much alarmed to-night. He--he is not my grandfather.'

`Father, I should have said,' returned the hostess, sensible of having made an awkward mistake.

`Nor my father' said the young lady. `Nor,' she added, slightly smiling with a quick perception of what the landlady was going to add, `Nor my uncle. We are not related.'

`Oh dear me!' returned the landlady, still more embarrassed than before: `how could I be so very much mistaken., knowing, as anybody in their proper senses might that when a gentleman is ill, he looks so much older than he really is? That I should have called you "Miss," too, ma'am!' But when she had proceeded thus far, she glanced involuntarily at the third finger of the young lady's left hand, and faltered again: for there was no ring upon it.

`When I told you we were not related,' said the other mildly, but not without confusion on her own part, `I meant not in any way. Not even by marriage. Did you call me, Martin?'