ges of time. The rooms in the house were mostly empty
and decaying: the main building was firm and strong, as was also the
extended wall which enclosed the whole. She found that although her
aunt, when they first arrived, had led her through several upper rooms
to the chamber they inhabited, yet there was from thence a direct
passage to the hall.

The prospect was not disagreeable. West, all was wilderness, from which
a brook wound along a little distance from the garden wall. North, were
the uneven grounds she had crossed when she came there, bounded by
distant groves and hills. East, beautiful meadows and fields, arrayed in
flowery green, sloped to salt marshes or sandy banks of the Sound, or
ended in the long white beaches which extended far into the sea. South,
was the Sound of Long Island.

Melissa passed much of her time in tracing the ruins of this antiquated
place, in viewing the white sails as they passed up and down the Sound,
and in listening to the songs of the thousand various birds which
frequented the garden and the forest. She could have been contented here
to have buried her afflictions, and for ever to retire from the world,
could Alonzo but have resided within those walls. "What will he think
has become of me," she would say, while the disconsolate tear glittered
in her eye. Her aunt had frequently urged her to yield to her father's
injunctions, regain her liberty, and marry Beauman; and she every day
became more solicitous and impertinent. A subject so hateful to Melissa
sometimes provoked her to tears; at other her keen resentment. She
therefore, when the weather was fair, passed much of her time in the
garden and adjoining walks, wishing to be as much out of her aunt's
company as possible.

One day John came there early in the morning, and Melissa's aunt went
home with him. The day passed away, but she did not return. Melissa sat
up until a late hour of the night, expecting her; she went to the gate,
and found it was fast locked, returned, locked and bolted the doors of
the house, went to bed and slept as soundly as she had done since her
residence in the old mansion. "I have at least, she said, escaped the
disgusting curtain-lecture about marrying Beauman."

The next day her aunt returned. "I was quite concerned about you, child,
said she; how did you sleep?" "Never better, she answered, since I have
been here." "I had forgotten, said her aunt, that my rents become due
this week. I was detaine