fidence of others, we must cautiously approach their sorrows. She heard with commiseration and surprise a deep sob of agony, which Nanny vainly attempted to choke back, and she felt shocked to observe the tremulousness of her hands, when there was occasion for her assistance; but desirous to ascertain the extent of her distress before she spoke, Matilda placed herself in such a position, that Nanny's countenance became unconsciously reflected in the opposite mirror.Never was Matilda more startled and astonished than to perceive the alteration which a short time had produced on the youthful countenance which she now saw distorted with suffering. The color had entirely fled from Nanny's cheek, her very lips had grown livid, and every feature of her face seemed convulsed with weeping, so that it would scarcely have been possible to recognize her. With an irresistible. impulse of surprise and sympathy, Matilda turned hastily round, and taking the poor girl's hand, she earnestly inquired what could have happened to cause such overpowering distress. A smothered, hysterical sob was all her reply, and the unfortunate sufferer seemed too much exhausted even to weep. There was always a magnetic power in the tears of others to draw forth those of Matilda, and her own eyes overflowed at the sight of such intense suffering, while she led Nanny towards a sofa, and placed herself upon it. Unmindful of Miss Howard's desire that she should do likewise, the unfortunate girl seated herself on the ground at Matilda's feet, and covering her face with her hands, she wept aloud.

"Nanny!" said Matilda, vainly trying to raise her, "tell me what has happened!-say, if I can console you !-rise and sit here-let me know everything that has occurred. I pity you from my very heart already, but perhaps we may be able also to assist you. Let me advise you, if I can; or at least let us pray together that you may find better comfort than any earthly friend can bring

"Oh, Miss Howard! I could not have lived till this hour if it were not for the hope that you would feel for me," cried Nanny, wringing her hands with a look of frightful agitation. "My heart must have burst, if you had not asked me to speak-oh! promise that you will not believe me guilty. You knew me from my happiest days, before I ever entered this house-do not cast me off at the first breath of suspicion. Say only once that you will remain my friend, and I may still preserve my senses." Nanny paused with a wild hys

terical laugh, and looked anxiously into Matilda's counte nance, while the color rushed for a moment over her face, and as instantly retreated, leaving her, if possible, paler than before.

"Trust me, Nanny," said Matilda, in a soothing tone, for she was alarmed at the sight of such extraordinary agitation, "I could not credit any stories against you; it would be a sorrowful hour for me if I did! I did! Can I forget that you were Lady Olivia's favorite pupil-that your mother instructed you at home-that you were always a diligent and grateful girl! Oh, no! you may have acted thoughtlessly, but I could make myself responsible, without a moment's hesitation, that you have done nothing really criminal."

Nanny clasped Miss Howard's hand in hers, and buried her face on the sofa, unable to speak, while Matilda silently waited till she had sufficiently recovered the command of her voice, when, after some vain attempts to articulate, she became at last able in broken sentences to make herself understood.

"I am heart-broken, but not guilty," said she, in feeble accents. "They may destroy my good name, but they could not make me forget my duty. I can look you in the face, Miss Howard, with as much innocence now as I ever did in my happiest days: but to-morrow I am to leave this house disgraced and miserable. All that was precious in life is gone-my character has been blasted by those who wished to humble me. I have found no pity, and no help. Never shall I forget the lessons of my childhood, and they have preserved me now. I knew you would not believe their cruel stories-you are the only person in this house who will not. Oh! when my mother hears it all-when Martha is told the worst—it will break their hearts!—yet they must know it is false. And William, too! what does he think ?— but that is no matter now !"

At these last words Nanny clasped her hands over her face, while large hot tears slowly coursed each other down her cheeks, and she became silent.

"Nanny! it cannot be so hopeless, surely? I believe you to be innocent of this calumny, whatever it is," cried Matilda warmly, for she saw that this assurance alone seemed to have any power in composing her agitated companion. "Tell me all, and depend upon it justice shall be done. Miss FitzPatrick must be informed of the circumstances without delay, and she will do what is right on the occasion."

"Her ears are

"No! no!" replied Nanny, despondingly. already poisoned against me. This has not been the business of a day, and those who contrived my ruin have completed it; they convinced both Sir Richard and my young lady that I was always worthless and dishonest. Various trinkets have lately been missing in this house, especially from Sir Richard's cabinet and Miss Fitz-Patrick's jewelbox. Some of these were yesterday found concealed in a flower stand, and I am accused of having secreted them there. It was even said that William, who came every morning to water the plants, had taken that opportunity to carry them off, and many of the most valuable are still missing. The bitterest stroke of all has been that his good name should be injured through me, and his place taken from him. We met to-day, Miss Howard, he came to comfort me,—to say that he had got employment at Sir Evan's,-to know if he could be of any service,-to propose that he should break it all to my mother,but the sight of him, after what has happened, was worse than death. Martha will make him happy, and she deserves his affection,-I never did, and least of all now.”

"I shall speak to Miss Fitz-Patrick this very evening. You must not suffer an hour longer than can be helped; remain in my room till dinner is over, and depend upon it I shall bring you comfort; there must be some cruel mistake, and my cousin will rectify it at once."

Nanny closed her eyes, and mournfully shook her head. "You are as kind as I expected, Miss Howard! very kind! words cannot say what I feel,--but no one can help me, for the web is stronger than you think. Pauline has often been in the habit of wearing my young mistress's shawls; she went out last night in one of them, her conduct became improper, and she was in very bad company. Stories were repeated to Miss Fitz-Patrick of what passed on that occasion; and Pauline has contrived to persuade every one that it was I, and not herself, who appeared at that hour. I remained alone in my room all the evening, suffering great distress of mind on other accounts, but that was nothing to what has befallen me since. I had lately avoided been seen, so no one can testify that I was really at home. I had found out my folly in many ways, and repented of it, but nothing can clear me now. I am bowed down to the very dust with shame and sorrow. My mother's gray hairs will be dishonored,―my sister's name is disgraced, and I dare not even ask to be

laid beside my father in the grave. Oh! what shall I do, Miss Howard? The whole world is in darkness now! Will no gleam of light ever shine on me again?"

Matilda felt a nameless apprehension steal over her thoughts as she saw the wild tumult of Nanny's mind, the increasing incoherence of her manner, and the burning hectic which glowed on her cheek, and which lighted up her eye with unnatural brightness. The gong had sounded for dinner long before she left off endeavoring to bring peace and composure to the broken spirit beside her. Matilda's words of comfort fell like flakes of snow on a burning desert, so soft and so refreshing was all that she said to the suffering mind that it was her desire to cheer; and she did not leave Nanny without obtaining a promise, given with some degree. of serenity, that she would retire to bed, after seeking for peace and support where alone it can never fail to be suf ficient.

WHEN Matilda entered the drawing-room, the whole gay party had assembled, forming a brilliant contrast to the scene she so recently left. Lively groups were scattered about the room, all apparently animated by the highest spirits; and she looked around to ascertain if there was any individual with whom she felt sufficiently acquainted to place herself; but all were already engaged, or else comparative strangers, and Eleanor was so surrounded by her satellites as to be quite unapproachable; therefore, feeling very much like some person who had dropt from the clouds, and belonged to nobody, Matilda quietly glided into a chair, as near her cousin as possible, and began examining a volume of prints, to diminish the awkwardness of sitting alone and unnoticed. Meantime she stole an intelligent glance around, to observe what was passing, and felt as completely au fait in reading the plot of all that was going on, and as far removed from taking an active part in it, as if she had been seated in a side box at the opera. Lady Montague and Mrs. Clifford appeared to be in deep and consequential conference, probably comparing the relative prices of their milliners' bills, or else each praising her own daughter, in a confidential tone, to the other, and boasting of the brilliant talents and prospects of their respective sons. Sir Richard occupied the whole fire, which was large enough to have roasted an ox, but he contrived to spread himself entirely over it, holding by the button Dr. Murray, to whom he was eagerly demonstrating on the subject of politics. Mr. Grant had placed himself beside Miss Murray, and seemed for once to be talking gravely and in earnest, with a degree of respectful deference towards his aged companion, which, in Matilda's estimation, did him honor. Eleanor continued to be hemmed in by a cordon of beaux, each of whom seemed to rival all the others in the