fare, and praying that you may all,
through this wale of tears and of trials, provide food for your souls. I am your humble servant to command,
"Roger O'Rourke."
Though at most of this composition our hero smiled; yet, the allusion to the walk in the grove, he did not relish, and was not without alarm lest the gross conception of the writer might misinterpret the matter. While he was ruminating on this subject, a female servant, with a simper, informed him, that the porter who had before made inquiries was now below, to ask if he was returned; but brought no message. In the evening, the young ladies staid at home, to prepare for a ball that was to be given in a day or two. The elderly part played a rubber at whist; Hamilton and Mortimer took a stroll to the library. At the door, they heard the voice of that worthy author, Richard