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joke, be so awfully reckless, as to place himself thus in a position to be torn from the bosom of his family—to be branded as a felon—a common felon—and compelled to work in ignominious chains."

"However improbable it may appear," said Sylvester, "that any one besides myself wrote that letter, I repeat—most firmly and most solemnly repeat—that it never was written by me. You remember the note that was found at the cottage—the note addressed to Rosalie—the hand in which that was written resembled mine as strongly as this does, and I have not the slightest doubt that the person who wrote the one wrote the other."

"Well; it's very mysterious," said the reverend gentleman. "Of course, I am bound to believe you on your honour; still I must say it's very mysterious."

"It is," returned Sylvester, "very mysterious. But I assure you, my dear aunt—I do assure you both—that I would not be guilty of so great an act of folly."

"I am sure that you would not my dear," said Aunt Eleanor. "I'm perfectly satisfied now, but I thought—I did think—that you might perhaps have done it by way of a jest. I am now, however, firmly convinced you did not, and you must therefore forgive me for supposing that I was justified by that letter in believing that you did."

The reverend gentleman scarcely even then knew what to make of it: nor did he much care about saying another syllable on the subject; he saw more clearly than he had ever seen before that Aunt Eleanor was an amiable affectionate creature, who was anxious to take the most charitable view of everything that could be said to involve a doubt, and was therefore most anxious for Sylvester to leave; but before he was able to give an intimation of this anxiety, they were joined by the doctor and Mrs. Delolme, whose presence prevented an interesting scene which the reverend gentleman had in contemplation.

The forms in which proposals of marriage are made, are as various as the views, thoughts, and passions of those who make them. It may at first sight appear strange that there should be so many ways of doing one and the same thing; and yet, perhaps, of the myriads of millions who have proposed, no two men ever—either in ancient or modern times—managed this matter precisely alike. Nor is it at all probable that any two men ever will; for, independently of the infinitely varied characters of lovers, the minds, forms, features, and feelings of those whom they love are so diversified, that every proposal, whether romantic