far away-not further than the distance of a few streets, when he entered. a quiet tavern, where he knew there was a comfortable coffee-room, and where he sat down for a while, "nursing his wrath, to keep it warm." Oh, Time! speed on, speed on, Time!" Thus he apostrophised the dial of his watch. "But why should I delay? He is there by this time. He was, perhaps, watching me out of my own house. Oh, thunder! Just to think of it! Sophy-Sophy Heriot shall no longer be Sophia Hay! It is now time. I must delay no longer. Indeed, I cannot. He must be there by this time. I know he is; I am sure of it; something tells me it is so, and I will catch them together." So saying, Mr. Hay, in a state of semi-frenzy, hurried out of the coffee-room, in which, for a full half-hour, he had been peopling his brain, and racking his breast, with the most hideous phantoms that it was possible for his ingenuity to invent, that he might thoroughly accomplish his own misery. A cab was passing. "I have no time to walk," said he; and, calling the cabman, he told him to drive, with all available speed, to No. 22, Heartburst Street, Savage Square.

"All right, sir;" and away the cab flew.

Arrived at his door, Mr. Hay paid and dismissed the cabman; then mounting the steps which led up to his dwelling, he slipped, as quietly as he could, his latch-key into the lock, and opened the door. "Hah! I'll have them now. Mr. Rimmel will find that there are more foxes in the world than himself." And, shutting the door as gently as he could, he took the first flight of steps at three bounds, the second at two, and bounced into the drawing-room, certain of his quarry. Neither Mr. Augustus Rimmel nor his wife were there, however; but he found a lady sitting alone in the recess of the window, whom he at once discovered to be Mrs. Russell.

wife? D'ye

Oh, Mrs. Russell, how d'ye do? Hoh! Where's my wife? know ?" asked Mr. Hay, somewhat disconcerted.

"No, I don't. I am just waiting to see her. The servant tells me that she hurriedly left home some little time ago; and, as I have an appointment with her this evening, I expect that she will soon return."

The expression of Mr. Hay's countenance suddenly changed; a rational ray had, as by a flash of lightning, illumined his mind, when he drew the piece of pencilled paper from his pocket, and asked Mrs. Russell if she knew anything about it.

"It is mine," said she; "I wrote it to Sophia. A. R. are my initials-Aurora Russell."

"What shall I do? Fool that I am! Idiot! monster!

Oh,

I don't know what to call myself!" exclaimed Mr. Hay, walking at a rapid pace, and in a half-frantic manner, backwards and forwards in the room. Why, what is the matter, Mr. Hay ?" asked Mrs. Russell, in astonishment.

"Oh, everything is the matter! I see it all, as clear as have been mad. Oh, thunder! What shall I do!"

I

"Why, you make me laugh, Mr. Hay;" and assuredly Mrs. Russell did laugh at the grotesque figure he cut, as he almost raved, and thrust his stretched fingers wildly through his hair, whilst furiously walking backwards and forwards.

"You may well laugh; but what am I to say to Sophia? I have wronged her--wantonly, foolishly, madly, cruelly wronged her! Look you, Mrs. Russell, every thought of my mind has, for some time, been devoured by jealousy."

"Jealousy!" exclaimed Mrs. Russell.

"Yes, jealousy; and your initials I have taken for those of young Rimmel-Augustus Rimmel! They are both alike! Oh, thunder! What shall I do!" roared Mr. Hay.

"Well, I declare, Mr. Hay, you surprise me. A person of your sense jealous! And of Sophy, too-a creature who hardly knows the meaning of the word," said Mrs. Russell.

"True, true! I see it all now: but what am I to do? Where has she gone, my sweet little Sophia! What have I done to her! Oh,

where have I driven her to ?"

ask

"Calm yourself, Mr. Hay; calm yourself for a moment, and let me you if you drove her from the house?"

"O no, no, no! Nothing of the sort. Oh, thunder! No, no, nothing of that kind; but she is not here, and must have gone somewhere." At that moment the outer-door bell rung.

"There she is!" said Mrs. Russell.

"And a man with her. I hear his voice!" said Mr. Hay.

"Yes; though not Augustus Rimmell, but Humphrey Heriot!" and Mrs. Hay and her brother entered the room.

Mr. Hay had hastily seated himself in a chair close by Mrs. Russell, in the hope that she might be a sort of ægis to defend him from any attacks which he felt he deserved, and which might possibly be made upon him in his present crest-fallen condition. The moment Mrs. Hay entered, however, he sprung from his seat in ecstasy, and exclaiming "Oh, Sophy!" folded her in his arms.

"Alfred! I am so glad!" ejaculated Sophia, which was all she

could say, from the choking joy with which her utterance was suddenly checked.

"Now, Sophy! Didn't I tell ?" remarked Humphrey.

you

"What did you tell her?" eagerly asked Mr. Hay.

"That you had not gone to the country."

"Then you know all about it ?"

"Of course I do. She has told me that you were put out about something," said Humphrey.

"Well, no matter, he is in now," observed Sophia; "and I am glad to see him.”

"Where have you been, my dear little cherub ?" asked Alfred, giving Sophia another embrace, looking affectionately in her face, and then with his left hand smoothing down the beautiful glossy hair, which lay slightly dishevelled on one side of her brow.

"Seeking for you, love!"

"Seeking for me! And where did you seek?'

"I hastened to the Euston station, where Helen told me you had gone; for I felt I could not live when I thought of the cold manner of your leaving me. I only wanted to say farewell; but I didn't find you:" and the tears filled her soft blue eyes, and then began to trickle down her pale cheeks.

"Did you really think I could leave you so ?" whispered Hay.

"I did not know what to think."

"Oh, thunder! What a savage I am!"

"No, my dear; it was all my fault."

"O no! It was all mine."

"No, Alfred."

"Yes, Sophia."

"Well, perhaps there has been a little fault on both sides," broke in Mrs. Russell. "However, let it be over now, and endeavour to be happy for the future."

Aye, that is the best; for it is as easy, if not far easier, to make one's-self happy as miserable," said Humphrey.

"I do think it is," observed Alfred.

"And so do I," coincided Sophia; and, by trying to make each other happy for the future, both Mr. and Mrs. Hay literally became so unknowingly to themselves: so that they were almost always found by any person who called upon them, both cheerful and smiling, in place of moping and mourning, throughout the remainder of the days in which they sojourned together in the land in which they were born.

The following account of this remarkable pear appears in the ninth volume of the Messrs. Chambers' Pocket Miscellany :—“ At a short distance from the house of Lethington, in Haddingtonshire, stands the mansion-house of Coalstoun, the seat of the ancient family of Bron, of Coalstoun, which is now represented by Sir Richard Broun, Bart.; while the estate has come, by a series of heirs of line, into the possession of the present Countess of Dalhousie. This place is chiefly worthy of attention here on account of a strange heir-loom, with which the welfare of the family was formerly supposed to be connected. One of the barons of Coalstoun, about 300 years ago, married Jean Hay, daughter of John, third Lord Yester, with whom he obtained a dowry, not consisting of such base materials as houses or land, but neither more nor less than a pear. 'Sure such a pear was never seen,' however, as this of Coalstoun, which a remote ancestor of the young lady, famed for his necromantic power, was supposed to have invested with some enchantment that rendered it perfectly invaluable. Lord Yester, in giving away his daughter along with the pear, informed his son-in-law, that good as the lass might be, her dowry was much better, because while she could only have value in her own generation, the pear, so long as it was continued in his family, would be attended with unfailing prosperity, and thus might cause the family to flourish to the end of time. Accordingly the pear was preserved as a sacred palladium, both by the laird who first obtained it, and by all his descendants; till one of their ladies, taking a longing for the forbidden fruit, while pregnant, inflicted upon it a deadly bite; in consequence of which, it is said, several of the best farms on the estate speedily came to the market. The pear is said to have become stonehard immediately after the lady bit it; and in this condition, continues the popular story, it remains till this day, with the marks of Lady Broun's teeth indelibly imprinted on it. Whether it be really fortified against all further attacks of the kind or not, it is certain that it is now disposed in some secure part of the house [or, as we have been lately informed, in a chest, the key of which is kept secure by the Earl of Dalhousie], so as to be out of all danger whatsoever."—The Coalstoun pear is supposed to have had an existence of 500 years.