to transact
business a young fellow, by the way, that has been paying his addresses
to a lady for the last six or seven years. I wish you saw them part, as
I did--merely a hearty shake of the hand--'good by, Molly, take care of
yourself till I see you again;' and 'farewell, Simon, don't forget the
shawl;' and the whole thing's over, and no more about it."

There was evidently something in these words that jarred upon a spirit
of such natural tenderness as Jane's. While William was repeating them,
her features expressed a feeling as if of much inward pain; and when he
had concluded, she rose up, and seizing both his hands, said, in a tone
of meek and earnest supplication:

"Oh! William dear, do not, do not--it is not consolation--it is
distress."

"Dear Jane," said the good-natured brother, at once feeling his error,
"pardon me, I was wrong; there is no resemblance in the cases--I only
wanted to raise your spirits."

"True, William, true; I ought to thank you, and I do thank you."

Whilst this little incident took place, Mr. Sinclair came over and sat
beside Charles.

"You see, my dear Charles," said he, "what a heavy task your separation
from that poor girl is likely to prove. Let me beg that you will be as
firm as possible, and sustain her by a cheerful play of spirits, if you
can command them. Do violence to your! own heart for this day for her
sake."

"I will be firm, sir," said Osborne, "if I can: but if I fail--if
I--look at her," he proceeded, in a choking voice, "look at her, and
then ask yourself why I--I should be firm?"

Whilst he spoke, Jane came over, and seating herself between her father
and him, said:

"Papa, you will stay with me and Charles this day, and support us.
You know, papa, that I am but a weak, weak girl; but when I do a wrong
thing, I feel very penitent--I cannot rest."

"You never did wrong, darling," said Osborne, pressing his lips to her
cheek, "you never did wrong."

"Papa says I did not do much wrong; yet at one time I did not think so
myself; but there is a thing presses upon me still. Papa," she added,
turning abruptly to him, "are there not such things in this life as
judgments from heaven?"

"Yes, my dear, upon the wicked who, by deep crimes, provoke the justice
of the Almighty; but the ways of God are so mysterious, and the innocent
so often suffer whilst the guilty escape, that we never almost hazard
an opinion upon individual cases." "But there are cast-aways?" "Yes