"We naturally, in consideration of the petitioner's many amiable
qualities, have promised to take the request into our serious
consideration. For decorum's sake, you know, one must deliberate a
couple of days or so."

"Are you in jest or earnest, Arthurine?"

"Quite in earnest, Howard."

"Farewell, then!"

"'Fare-thee-well! and if for ever Still for ever fare-thee-well!'"

said Arthurine, in a half-laughing, half-sighing tone. The next
instant I had left the room.

On the stairs I met the beturbaned Mrs Bowsends, who led the way
mysteriously into the parlour.

"You have seen Arthurine?" said she. "What a dear, darling child!--is
she not? Oh! that girl is our joy and consolation. And Mr
Moreland--the charming Mr Moreland! Now that things are arranged so
delightfully, we can let Margaret have her own way a little."

"What I have heard is true, then?" said I.

"Yes; as an old friend I do not mind telling you--though it must
still remain a secret for a short time. Mr Moreland has made a formal
proposal to Arthurine."

I do not know what reply I made, before flinging myself out of the
room and house, and running down the street as if I had just escaped
from a lunatic asylum.

"Richards," cried I to my friend, "shall we start tomorrow?"

"Thank God!" exclaimed Richards. "So you are cured of the New York
fever? Start! Yes, by all means, before you get a relapse. You must
come with me to Virginia for a couple of months."

"I will so," was my answer.

As we were going down to the steam-boat on the following morning,
Staunton overtook us, breathless with speed and delight.

"Wish me joy!" cried he. "I am accepted!"

"And I jilted!" replied I with a laugh. "But I am not such a fool as
to make myself unhappy about a woman."

Light words enough, but my heart was heavy as I spoke them. Five
minutes later, we were on our way to Virginia.

* * * * *

HYDRO-BACCHUS.

Great Homer sings how once of old
The Thracian women met to hold
To "Bacchus, ever young and fair,"
Mysterious rites with solemn care.
For now the summer's glowing face
Had look'd upon the hills of Thrace;
And laden vines foretold the pride
Of foaming vats at Autumn tide.
There, while the gladsome Evoee shout
Through Nysa's knolls rang wildly out,
While cymbal clang, and blare of horn,
O'er the broad Hellespont were borne;
The sounds, careering far and near,
Struck sudd