ormed his afflicted father that his son had been
induced to go on board a king's ship, to see the arrangements which it
exhibited; but that, in passing from the small boat to the deck, he had
missed a foot, and been drowned. The letter was dated on board the
Spitfire; and mentioned, likewise, that the ship was under sailing
orders for the general rendezvous at Spithead. The poor distracted
parent had come to Dundee, but could obtain no information of his
son--only, about three months after, he heard that a dead body, severely
mutilated, had been thrown out upon the sands of St Andrews; and, on
account of the state of its decomposition, had immediately been interred
in Christian burial-ground. A second pilgrimage to St Andrews was
undertaken by the father and daughter; but nothing satisfactory was
discovered, except that the corpse exhibited marks of having been
dressed in a blue-and-white striped waistcoat, which answered to that in
which he had left Denhead, his home in the Highlands. After this last
discovery, all further inquiry ceased, and the afflicted family
fulfilled the period of their sincere mourning, and things returned
nearly to their usual bearing. But, when father, and mother, and sister
had seemingly got over the worst of their grief, Helen M'Donald still
pined in silence over the recollections of her early companion; and as
she expanded into womanhood, her grief seemed to grow "with her growth;"
and her father became extremely anxious to have Helen properly and
creditably disposed of in marriage.

The son of a small proprietor in the neighbourhood had lately become
laird himself; and, though far exceeding Helen in years, having had
frequent opportunities of seeing her, particularly at church on Sabbath,
he had become enamoured of so much beauty and innocence. Proposals had
been made to the father, which were immediately accepted; and the young
lady had been dealt with, as young ladies in such situations generally
are, by arguments of interest, and worldly comfort, and even grandeur.
First impressions are deep (oh, how deep!); and Helen could not yet
entirely exclude the image of her beloved William from her recollection.
Laird M'Wharry was urgent in his suit--her father, whom she
affectionately loved, was troubled and anxious--her mother, too, pressed
home upon her attention prudential considerations--so, after long delays
and many internal struggles, Helen at last consented to become, but not
till some