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"My boldness; my forwardness."

"How can I forgive that of which I am unconscious?"

"You are kind!" she replied. "But tell me: have you been well?—and happy?"

"I have: and sorry indeed am I, to find that you have not."

"I have not been; but I am happy now, and hope to be soon again well. But you will not despise me? I cannot conceal from you that which I know that I ought to conceal. But, oh! how I have longed to see you! Do you remember that happy evening?—the evening on which you gave me these?"

Sylvester, who then, for the first time, noticed the bracelets, replied that he did.

"You were smiling then," she continued; "why do you not now smile?"

Sylvester burst into tears.

"Do you weep for me?" she faintly inquired. "God bless you! Do you not think then that I shall recover?"

"Well," said Mr. Scholefield, coming forward, "we must now for the present leave you: but, remember, you must be quite calm!"

"I will be calm—quite calm," replied Julia, who still held Sylvester's hand in hers; and when Mr. Scholefield was leaving the room, Sylvester said "I will see you this evening."

"You will!" she exclaimed, with an expression of ecstacy.

"I will."

She kissed his hand, and he left her happy.

On leaving the house, Sylvester explained to Mr. Scholefield the circumstances under which he had previously known her, and having related the history of the bracelets, and all that had been said of her by Tom, he earnestly inquired if her recovery were hopeless.

Mr. Scholefield replied that it was—quite hopeless. "She may," he added, "live four or five days longer; but your interview with her has, in all probability, exhausted nearly the whole of her remaining strength. Poor girl! I am, indeed, very sorry for her. She has been, it appears, the sole support of her mother: her death will break the old lady's heart."

"Do you think," inquired Sylvester, cautiously, "do you think that they are in poverty now?"

"I should say, not in absolute poverty: that is to say, not in a state of actual destitution; but that they are poor, very poor, I've no doubt."

Sylvester was silent and thoughtful. He had in his desk a ten-pound note, and as he felt quite sure of being able to borrow another of Tom, he resolved on sending them twenty pounds, anonymously, in the course of the morning.

In pursuance of this resolution he, on leaving Mr. Scholefield, called upon Tom, who was at that period preparing to pass the college.

"Tom," said he, "I want ten pounds. I wish you'd let me have it, till I can hear from my aunt?"

"Ted what!" cried Tom.

"Ten pounds."