on to be entrusted with the care of such a girl
as Charlotte Temple, or to be suffered to take her from under your
immediate protection."

"You wrong me, Mr. Eldridge," replied she, "if you suppose I have ever
permitted your grand-daughter to go out unless with the other ladies.
I would to heaven I could form any probable conjecture concerning her
absence this morning, but it is a mystery which her return can alone
unravel." Servants were now dispatched to every place where there was
the least hope of hearing any tidings of the fugitives, but in vain.
Dreadful were the hours of horrid suspense which Mr. Eldridge passed
till twelve o'clock, when that suspense was reduced to a shocking
certainty, and every spark of hope which till then they had indulged,
was in a moment extinguished.

Mr. Eldridge was preparing, with a heavy heart, to return to his
anxiously-expecting children, when Madame Du Pont received the following
note without either name or date.

"Miss Temple is well, and wishes to relieve the anxiety of her
parents, by letting them know she has voluntarily put herself under
the protection of a man whose future study shall be to make her happy.
Pursuit is needless; the measures taken to avoid discovery are too
effectual to be eluded. When she thinks her friends are reconciled to
this precipitate step, they may perhaps be informed of her place of
residence. Mademoiselle is with her."

As Madame Du Pont read these cruel lines, she turned pale as ashes, her
limbs trembled, and she was forced to call for a glass of water. She
loved Charlotte truly; and when she reflected on the innocence and
gentleness of her disposition, she concluded that it must have been
the advice and machinations of La Rue, which led her to this imprudent
action; she recollected her agitation at the receipt of her mother's
letter, and saw in it the conflict of her mind.

"Does that letter relate to Charlotte?" said Mr. Eldridge, having waited
some time in expectation of Madame Du Pont's speaking.

"It does," said she. "Charlotte is well, but cannot return today."

"Not return, Madam? where is she? who will detain her from her fond,
expecting parents?"

"You distract me with these questions, Mr. Eldridge. Indeed I know not
where she is, or who has seduced her from her duty."

The whole truth now rushed at once upon Mr. Eldridge's mind. "She has
eloped then," said he. "My child is betrayed; the darling, the comfort
of my aged heart, is