ke his
flute from the ground his profile was necessarily turned towards the inner
part of the grove. Delia started and trembled. Damon stood confessed. But
she scarcely recollected his features before he rushed away swifter than
the winged hawk, and was immediately out of sight.

Delia was too full of a thousand reflections upon this unexpected
rencounter to be able to utter a word. But Miss Fletcher immediately
began. "God bless us," cried she, "did you ever see the like? Why it is my
belief it is a ghost or a wizard. I never heard any thing so pretty--I
vow, I am terribly frightened."

Delia now caught hold of her arm. "For heaven's sake, let us quit the
grove. I do not know what is the matter--but I feel myself quite sick."
"Good God! good heavens! Well, I do not wonder you are all in a
tremble--But suppose now it should be nothing but Mr. Prattle--He is
always somewhere or other--And then he plays _God save the king_, and
_Darby and Joan_, like any thing." "Oh," said the lovely, trembling
nymph, "they were the sweetest notes!" "Ah," said her companion, "he is a
fine man. And then he is so modest--He will play at one and thirty, and
ride upon a stick with little Tommy all day long. But sure it could not be
Mr. Prattle--He always wears his hair in a queue you know--but the ghost
had a bag and solitaire." "Well," cried Delia, "let us think no more of
it. But did we hear anything?"--"Law, child, why he played the nicest
glee--and then he made such a speech, for all the world like Mr. Button,
that I like so to see in Hamlet." "True," said Delia,--"but what he said
was more like the soft complainings of my dear Castalio. Did not he
complain of a false mistress?" "Why he did say something of that kind.--If
it be neither a ghost nor Mr. Prattle. I hope in God he is going to appear
upon the Southampton stage. I do so love to see a fine young man come on
for the first time with

_May this alspishus day be ever sacred!_
Or,
_I am thy father's spirit._"

CHAPTER IV.

_A Love Scene._

In such conversation the moments passed till they reached the habitation
of Mr. Hartley. Miss Fletcher now took her leave. And after a supper as
dull, and much more tedious to Delia, than the dinner, she retired to her
chamber.

She retired indeed, but not to rest. Her brain was filled with a croud of
uneasy thoughts. "Alas," said she, "how short has been the illusion!--But
yesterday, I was flushed with all the