ver, seemed to bring her to herself, for with her left hand she
wafted them away, saying, "Leave us--leave us--this is a day of sorrow
to us--the day will end, but when, when, alas, will the sorrow? Papa,
some of us will need your prayers now--the sunshine of Jane's life is
over--I am the Fawn of Springvale no more--my time with the holy
and affectionate flock of whom I was and am an unworthy one, will be
short--I may be with you a day, as it were, the next is come and Jane is
gone for ever."

"Father," said Osborne, "I shall not go;" and as he spoke he pressed her
to his bosom--"I will never leave her."

The boy's tears fell rapidly upon her pale cheeks, and on feeling them
she looked up and smiled.

The sobbings of the family were loud, and bitter were the tears which
the tender position of the young and beautiful pair wrung from the
eyes that looked upon them. "Your health, my boy," said his father, "my
beautiful and only boy, render it necessary that you should go. It is
but for a time, Jane dear, my daughter, my boy's beloved, it is only for
a time--let him leave you for a little, and he will return confirmed
in health and knowledge, and worthy my dear, dear girl, to be yours for
ever."

"My daughter," said Mr. Sinclair, "was once good and obedient, and she
will now do whatever is her own papa's wish."

"Name it, papa, name it," said she, still smiling.

"Suffer Charles to go, my darling--and do not--oh! do not take his
departure so much to heart."

"Charles, you must go," said she. "It is the wish of your own father and
of mine--but above all, it is the wish of your own--you cannot, you must
not gainsay him. What we can prosper which is founded on disobedience
or deceit? You know the words you once loved so well to repeat--I will
repeat them now--you must, you will not surely refuse the request of
_your own Jane Sinclair_."

The boy seemed for some time irresolute but at length he clasped her in
his arms, and, again, said, in a vehement burst of tenderness:

"No, father, my heart is resolved, I will never leave her. It will kill
me, it will lay me in an early grave, and you will have no son to look
upon."

"But you will see the heroic example that Jane will set you," said Mr.
Sinclair, "she will shame you into firmness, for she will now take leave
of you at once; and see then if you love her as you say you do, whether
you will not respect her so far as to follow her example. Jane, bid
Charles farewell