Alonzo determined to go to the
theatre, and at the hour appointed he repaired thither.

As he was proceeding to take his seat, he passed the box where sat the
young officer, whose manners had so prepossessed him the preceding
evening at the inn. He immediately arose: they exchanged salutations,
and Alonzo walked on and took his seat. The evening was warm, and the
house exceedingly crowded. After the tragedy was through, and before the
after-piece commenced, the young officer came to Alonzo's box, and made
some remarks on the merit of the actors. While they were discoursing, a
bustle took place in one part of the house, and several people gathered
around a box, at a little distance from them. The officer turned, left
Alonzo, and hastened to the place. To the general enquiry, "_what's the
matter?_" it was answered, that "a lady had fainted." She was led out,
and the tumult subsided.

As soon as the after-piece was closed, Alonzo returned to the inn. As he
passed along he cast his eyes toward the church-yard, where lay the
"wither'd blessings of his richest joys." Affection, passion,
inclination, urged him to go and breathe a farewell sigh, to drop a
final tear over the grave of Melissa. Discretion, reason, wisdom forbade
it--forbade that he re-pierce the ten thousand wounds of his bosom, by
the acute revival of unavailing sorrows. He hurried to his chamber.

As he prepared to retire to rest, he saw a book lying on the table near
his bed. On taking it up he found it to be _Young's Night Thoughts_, a
book which, in happier days, had been the solace of many a gloomy, many
a lucid hour. He took it up and the first lines he cast his eyes upon
were the following:

"Song, beauty, youth, love, virtue, joy: this group
Of bright ideas--flowers of Paradise,
As yet unforfeit! in one blaze we bind.
Kneel, and present it to the skies; as all
We guess of Heaven! And _these_ were all her own
And she was mine, and I was--was most blest--
Like blossom'd trees o'erturn'd by vernal storm,
Lovely in death the beauteous ruin lay--
Ye that e'er lost an angel, pity me."

His tears fell fast upon the book! He replaced it and flung himself into
bed. Sleep was far from him; he closed not his eyes till the portals of
light were unbarred in the east, when he fell into interrupted slumbers.

When he awoke, the morning was considerably advanced. He arose. One
consolation was yet left--to see his parents happy. He went down to