apable of feeling, it was
of that masculine cast, that I could not help shrinking from its
manifestations. Her embraces were so stringent, her kisses so loud and
resounding, I could not receive them without embarrassment, though no
one but Ernest might be near.

The evening before she left, she was in an unusually gentle mood. We
were alone in my chamber, and she actually sat still several moments
without speaking. This was something as ominous as the pause that
precedes the earth's spasmodic throes. I have not spoken of Margaret's
destructive propensities, but they were developed in a most
extraordinary manner. She had a habit of seizing hold of every thing she
looked at, and if it chanced to be of delicate materials, it often
shivered in her grasp. I do not wonder poor Mrs. Harlowe trembled for
her glass and china, for scarcely a day passed that her path was not
strewed with ruins, whose exquisite fragments betrayed the costly fabric
she had destroyed. Now it was a beautiful porcelain vase, which she
would have in her hands to examine and admire, then an alabaster
statuette or frail crystal ornament. If I dropped a kid glove, she
invariably attempted to put it on, and her hand being much larger than
mine, she as invariably tore it in shreds. She would laugh, roll up her
eyes, and exclaim, "shocking! why this could not be worth anything! I
will let it alone next time."

I cannot say but that these daily proofs of carelessness and
destructiveness were trials of the temper and constant gratings on the
nerves. It was difficult to smile with a frowning heart, for such wanton
disregard for the property and feelings of others must pain that nice
moral sense which is connected with the great law of self-preservation.

This evening, she seized a beautiful perfume bottle that stood on my
toilet, and opening it, spilled it half on her handkerchief, though one
drop would fill the whole apartment with richest odor.

"Do not break that bottle, Margaret; it is very beautiful, and Ernest
gave it me this very morning."

"Oh! nonsense, I am the most careful creature in the world. Once in a
while, to be sure,--but then accidents will happen, you know. O
Gabriella I have something to tell you. Mr. Harland wants me to marry
him,--ha, ha, ha!"

"Well, you seemed pleased, Margaret. He is an accomplished gentleman,
and an agreeable one. Do you like him?"

"No! I liked him very well, till he wanted me to like him better, and
now I de