had to keep, and the awfulness of the midnight
hour, their hearts failed them when they had put the cake in the pan, so
that, on the striking of the great house-clock in the servants' hall,
they were seized with a sudden panic, and ran out of the room, to which
they did not return until morning, when they found the mystic cake burnt
to a cinder.

The most persevering at these spells, however, is Phoebe Wilkins, the
housekeeper's niece. As she is a kind of privileged personage, and
rather idle, she has more time to occupy herself with these matters. She
has always had her head full of love and matrimony, she knows the
dreaming book by heart, and is quite an oracle among the little girls of
the family, who always come to her to interpret their dreams in the
mornings.

During the present gaiety of the house, however, the poor girl has worn
a face full of trouble; and, to use the housekeeper's words, "has fallen
into a sad hystericky way lately." It seems that she was born and
brought up in the village, where her father was parish-clerk, and she
was an early playmate and sweetheart of young Jack Tibbets. Since she
has come to live at the Hall, however, her head has been a little
turned. Being very pretty, and naturally genteel, she has been much
noticed and indulged: and being the housekeeper's niece, she has held an
equivocal station between a servant and a companion. She has learnt
something of fashions and notions among the young ladies, which have
effected quite a metamorphosis; insomuch that her finery at church on
Sundays has given mortal offence to her former intimates in the village.
This has occasioned the misrepresentations which have awakened the
implacable family pride of Dame Tibbets. But what is worse, Phoebe,
having a spice of coquetry in her disposition, showed it on one or two
occasions to her lover, which produced a downright quarrel; and Jack,
being very proud and fiery, has absolutely turned his back upon her for
several successive Sundays.

[Illustration: Jack Jilts Phoebe]

The poor girl is full of sorrow and repentance, and would fain make up
with her lover; but he feels his security, and stands aloof. In this he
is doubtless encouraged by his mother, who is continually reminding him
of what he owes to his family; for this same family pride seems doomed
to be the eternal bane of lovers.

As I hate to see a pretty face in trouble, I have felt quite concerned
for the luckless Phoebe, ever since I