r and Charles's honor, he also experienced all the
anxiety natural to an affectionate father, ignorant of the situation
in which he might find an only son, who up to that period had been, and
justly too, inexpressibly dear to him.

His absence, however, was soon discovered by Jane, who now began to give
many proofs of that address with which unsettled persons can manage to
gain a point or extract a secret, when either in their own opinion is
considered essential to their gratification. Every member of her own
family now became subjected to her vigilance; every word they spoke was
heard with suspicion, and received as if it possessed a double meaning.
On more than one occasion she was caught in the attitude of a listener,
and frequently placed herself in such a position when sitting with her
relations at home, as enabled her to watch their motions in the glass,
when they supposed her engaged in some melancholy abstraction.

Yet bitter, bitter as all this must have been to their hearts, it was
singular to mark, that as the light of her reason receded, a new and
solemn feeling of reverence was added to all of love, and sorrow, and
pity, that they had hitherto experienced towards her. Now, too, was
her sway over them more commanding, though exercised only in the woeful
meekness of a broken heart; for, indeed, there is in the darkness of
unmerited affliction, a spirit which elevates its object, and makes
unsuffering nature humble in its presence. Who is there that has a
heart, and few, alas, have, that does not feel himself constrained to
bend his head with reverence before those who move in the majesty of
undeserved sorrow?

Mr. Osborne had not been many days gone, when Jane, one morning after
breakfast, desired the family not to separate for about an hour, or
if they did, to certainly reassemble within that period. "And in the
meantime," she said, addressing Agnes, "I want you, my dear Agnes, to
assist me at my toilette, as they say. I am about to dress in my very
best, and it cannot, you know, be from vanity, for I have no one now to
gratify but yourselves--come."

Mr. Sinclair beckoned with his hand to Agnes to attend her, and they
accordingly left the room together.

"What is the reason, Agnes," she said, "that there is so much mystery in
this family? I do not like these nods, and beckonings, and gestures, all
so full of meaning. It grieves me to see my papa, who is the very soul
of truth and candor, have recourse