lost. Oh would to heaven I had died but yesterday."

A violent gush of grief in some measure relieved him, and, after several
vain attempts, he at length assumed sufficient composure to read the
note.

"And how shall I return to my children?" said he: "how approach that
mansion, so late the habitation of peace? Alas! my dear Lucy, how will
you support these heart-rending tidings? or how shall I be enabled to
console you, who need so much consolation myself?"

The old man returned to the chaise, but the light step and cheerful
countenance were no more; sorrow filled his heart, and guided his
motions; he seated himself in the chaise, his venerable head reclined
upon his bosom, his hands were folded, his eye fixed on vacancy, and
the large drops of sorrow rolled silently down his cheeks. There was a
mixture of anguish and resignation depicted in his countenance, as if he
would say, henceforth who shall dare to boast his happiness, or even
in idea contemplate his treasure, lest, in the very moment his heart is
exulting in its own felicity, the object which constitutes that felicity
should be torn from him.

CHAPTER XIV.

MATERNAL SORROW.

SLOW and heavy passed the time while the carriage was conveying Mr.
Eldridge home; and yet when he came in sight of the house, he wished a
longer reprieve from the dreadful task of informing Mr. and Mrs. Temple
of their daughter's elopement.

It is easy to judge the anxiety of these affectionate parents, when they
found the return of their father delayed so much beyond the expected
time. They were now met in the dining parlour, and several of the young
people who had been invited were already arrived. Each different part of
the company was employed in the same manner, looking out at the windows
which faced the road. At length the long-expected chaise appeared. Mrs.
Temple ran out to receive and welcome her darling: her young companions
flocked round the door, each one eager to give her joy on the return
of her birth-day. The door of the chaise was opened: Charlotte was not
there. "Where is my child?" cried Mrs. Temple, in breathless agitation.

Mr. Eldridge could not answer: he took hold of his daughter's hand and
led her into the house; and sinking on the first chair he came to, burst
into tears, and sobbed aloud.

"She is dead," cried Mrs. Temple. "Oh my dear Charlotte!" and clasping
her hands in an agony of distress, fell into strong hysterics.

Mr. Temple, who had sto