heard her story. It is a sad thing
to be thwarted in love at any time, but particularly so at this tender
season of the year, when every living thing, even to the very butterfly,
is sporting with its mate; and the green fields and the budding groves,
and the singing of the birds, and the sweet smell of the flowers, are
enough to turn the head of a love-sick girl. I am told that the coolness
of Young Ready-Money lies heavy at poor Phoebe's heart. Instead of
singing about the house as formerly, she goes about, pale and sighing,
and is apt to break into tears when her companions are full of
merriment.

Mrs. Hannah, the vestal gentlewoman of my Lady Lillycraft, has had long
talks and walks with Phoebe, up and down the avenue, of an evening; and
has endeavoured to squeeze some of her own verjuice into the other's
milky nature. She speaks with contempt and abhorrence of the whole sex,
and advises Phoebe to despise all the men as heartily as she does. But
Phoebe's loving temper is not to be curdled; she has no such thing as
hatred or contempt for mankind in her whole composition. She has all the
simple fondness of heart of poor, weak, loving woman; and her only
thoughts at present are, how to conciliate and reclaim her wayward
swain.

The spells and love-charms, which are matters of sport to the other
domestics, are serious concerns with this love-stricken damsel. She is
continually trying her fortune in a variety of ways. I am told that she
has absolutely fasted for six Wednesdays and three Fridays successively,
having understood that it was a sovereign charm to ensure being married
to one's liking within the year. She carries about, also, a lock of her
sweetheart's hair, and a riband he once gave her, being a mode of
producing constancy in her lover. She even went so far as to try her
fortune by the moon, which has always had much to do with lovers'
dreams and fancies. For this purpose she went out in the night of the
full moon, knelt on a stone in the meadow, and repeated the old
traditional rhyme:

"All hail to thee, moon, all hail to thee:
I pray thee, good moon, now show to me
The youth who my future husband shall be."

[Illustration: The Love-Spell]

When she came back to the house, she was faint and pale, and went
immediately to bed. The next morning she told the porter's wife that
she had seen some one close by the hedge in the meadow, which she was
sure was young Tibbets; at any rate, she had dream