-It is my mother's birth-day, you know, and he always gives every body something on this day; come, do tell me, for I am dying with curiosity to learn the extent of my father's generosity, for the most important reason possible,-I want to borrow some money of you, Mr. Fothersgill ?"

To which Fothersgill gravely replied,—

"Mr. Tanjore Trelawney, I stand wholly amazed at your temerity; you have in the first place, Sir, asked a most improper question; and in the next departed from good manners.-I really stand amazed at

your

But Tanjore was flown, and heard not the last part of the sentence which his quaint tutor had addressed to him; he was already seated in an arm-chair in his father's library, receiving from his hands his accustomed gift, which on this occasion was only the one half of what he had expected to be presented with.

"There, Sir," cried Mr. Trelawney, counting the money in his hands; "this will make you remember

your improper conduct last year, when you led your

pointer into your sisters' dressing-rooms to destroy all their white mice; it was a wanton act of cruelty, and I now give you your deserts."

Tanjore received the money from the hands of his father, with an air of humility, and with a good humoured smile, exclaiming,

"No, indeed, my dear father, you have not given me my deserts."

"As how, Sir," cried Mr. Trelawney, not glancing a second time at his rosy, laughing, and urchin-like countenance, fearful that the punishment he was now

imposing would immediately relax of its severity.— "As how, Sir, I say?" repeated Mr. Trelawney.

"Because," answered Tanjore, "if you had only considered what I had merited from my deserts, you had not given me any gift at all.-But my sisters have long since forgiven my fault; and my father

Mr. Trelawney now turned his expressive eye full on the countenance of the darling of his heart; and nature spoke volumes in the praise of Tanjore.—He strained him to his heart in silence,-ran to his desk, counted out a double portion of his yearly present, and bidding him make a proper use of it, hurried out of the library,--not to conceal but to enjoy the sensations of a fond, indulgent, delighted and gratified father.

CHAPTER III.

"Full many a gem, of purest ray serene,
"The dark unfathomable caves of ocean bear:
"Full many a flow'r is born to blush unseen,
"And waste its sweetness on the desert air."

Gray.

THAT Mr. Trelawney had been sufficiently disgusted with the mode of fashionable living, during his long abode in the splendid and magnificent mansion of Lord Fitzosbourne, could not be doubted, for he had beheld nothing there but a succession of frivolities (to call them by the mildest possible terms,) from which a thinking and rational mind would very naturally have revolted, and from which he himself had frequently retired to his books and his studies, which, though silent companions, afforded him sources of pleasure and amusement he had looked in vain to find in the gay and festive scenes which were continually passing and repassing at Fitzosbourne House; and, to add to the natural aversion which Trelawney had to all such scenes, Rosa and the White Cottage' were ever present to his glowing fancy, and which probably painted the calm and sequestered scenes of humble life with a more vivid colouring than they really were, had not the pastor's daughter shone so brightly and conspicuously on the canvas. In the beautiful landscape, drawn by creative fancy, she was ever an object