him again, and, after a
severe struggle with herself, she decided upon complying with the
desire of her parents and her friends. A few months after the expiring
of the year of grace, she was the affianced bride of a highly
respectable, well-to-do, middle-aged gentleman. John Lindsey, her
intended husband, could not boast of his good looks; he was little,
rather stout, was deeply pitted in the face with the small-pox, and
had a very red nose, but he was considered by the ladies of Bristol as
a very good match for all that."

"Oh, Cecilia, how ridiculous!" exclaimed Sophia.

"Better, at all events, than turning nun," said Jack.

"The family this season had gone to pass the summer at the sea-coast;
and one day that Cecilia and her intended were taking their accustomed
walk along the shore--"

"Holloa!" cried Jack, "the truant is going to appear, after all."

"John Lindsey, observing a ring of some value upon Cecilia's finger,
politely asked her if she had any objections to tell him its history.
She replied that she had none, and told him it was a gift of young
Philipson's. 'I am well acquainted with your story,' said Lindsey,
'and do not blame the constancy with which you have treasured the
memory of that young man; on the contrary, I respect you for it--in
fact, it was the knowledge of your self-sacrifice to this affection
and all its attendant circumstances, that led me to solicit the honor
of your hand; for, said I to myself, one who has evinced so much
devotion for a mere sentiment, is never likely to prove unfaithful to
sacred vows pledged at the altar,' 'Come what may, you may at least
rely upon that, sir,' she answered. 'Then,' continued Lindsey, 'as an
eternal barrier is about to be placed between yourself and your past
affections, perhaps you will pardon my desire to separate you, as much
as possible, from everything that is likely to recal them to your
mind.' Saying that, he gently drew the ring from her finger, and threw
it into the sea."

It was strongly suspected that Mary shed a tear at this point of the
recital.

"It is all over with you now, Herbert," cried Fritz.

"You had better make a bonfire of your ships, like Fernando Cortez in
Mexico; or, if you are on your way home, better pray for a hurricane
to swallow you up, than have all your bright hopes dashed to atoms,
when you arrive in port."

"I am only a little girl," said Sophia; "but I know what I should have
said, if the gentleman had done