table of her father. The younger son of a respectable family, he had been educated for one of the learned professions, and by his amiable manners and brilliant talents had rendered himself a general favourite. Upon his enthusiastic and poetical temperament the beauty and virtues of Clara were calculated to make a powerful impression, which every hour passed in her company tended to deepen. Ardent, however, as were his feelings, they were under the control of a well-regulated mind. He was awakened from the Elysian dream which Clara had inspired by the reflection that, situated as he was, straitened in circumstances, and dependent entirely on his success in his profession, the object of his passion could not honourably be pursued. With a self-denial rarely evinced upon similar occasions, he withdrew himself from the magic circle ere its enchantment became too strong for him, and suddenly, at the hazard of much misinterpretation, ceased to be a guest at Mr. Stanley's. The subject of this sketch was not fitted for the heroine of a romance, and the early years of her life passed away unmarked by any occurrence worthy of note. At the age of eighteen, however, she was deprived of both her parents, who died within a few months of each other. Mr. Stanley had never been a provident man, and his affairs were found at his decease in such a state that it required the sacrifice of all he had left, even to the furniture of his house, to satisfy the demands of his creditors. The morning appointed for the sale arrived, and Clara retired to an apartment remote from the bustle of preparation. Sorrow for the loss of an affectionate parent was weighing heavily upon her heart, nor was the reflection that she must, in a few hours, quit the home of her childhood, to wander forth she knew not whither, calculated to lighten her grief. Of the many who were wont, with smiling faces and flattering tongues, to flock to the splendid entertainments which her mother delighted to give, there was not one to offer a word of comfort. Her prospect was, indeed, a desolate one: there appeared not a blossom to gladden her path, nor a tree to shelter her from the coming storm. But her view was not confined to earth; she turned upwards, with the eye of faith, to that beneficent God whom she had served in her prosperity, and who she felt would not desert her in the day of her trouble. ances they were once deemed friends-of Mr. Stanley. Some were attracted by the amiable desire of witnessing the wreck of a prosperity they had envied; others by the hope of securing at a cheap rate some article of furniture, bijouterie, or art, which they had admired in the lifetime of its late proprietor. A few of the relatives of Mr. Stanley were gathered in a circle in one of the rooms, who, after clubbing their pity for the forlorn and destitute situation of his daughter, proceeded to speculate upon the manner in which she could dispose of herself. One recommended that she should enter some family as governess; another suggested the more eligible situation of companion to an elderly lady; while a third, who had heard of Clara having been once detected in making up some article of her own dress, alluded to her qualifications as an attendant on some young ladies, in the enviable capacity of half milliner and half maid. During this discussion the attention of the group was attracted by the entrance of an elderly per sonage, in exceedingly plain but respectable attire. He contrived to insinuate himself into the midst of the conclave, and was an attentive listener to their conversation. Having heard the various propositions for the future provision of the orphan, he somewhat abruptly exclaimed, "But while the grass grows, the steed starves: surely there must be some of poor Mr. Stanley's friends who are both able and willing to afford his daughter the protection of their roof, until she can be in some measure provided for." His remark was evidently not much to the taste of his auditors, who, however, expressed the great pleasure they would have had in offering her an asylum; but, unfortunately, not one of them was at that particular juncture in a position to do so: the residence of one was under repair; the spare bed-room of another was occupied by a friend from the country, while a third had the scarlet fever in the house, and would never forgive himself if the "desr girl" should catch the disease. A smile of peculiar significance played on the lip of the elderly stranger as he listened to their various evasions, and perceiving that they eyed him with a look of inquiry, he drew from his pocket a silver snuff-box of extraordinary dimensions, and tapping the side of it for some seconds before he opened it, afforded them an oppor tunity of observing the device upon the lid. representing a cabbage supported by a pair of extended shears.1 In the meantime, the preliminary arrangements for the sale were in progress: the rooms were thronged with company, of which no inconsiderable portion consisted of the acquaint-prietor. This is no fiction; the author has frequently seen the snuff-box in the possession of its respectable pro The reader will have no difficulty in guessing that the stranger was our friend Tomkins, the tailor, who, among other peculiarities, had adopted this method of showing that he was not ashamed of his calling. Some years had passed over his head since the affair of the nosegay, and they had been marked by progressive prosperity, the reward of honest and unflagging industry. Mr. Tomkins, with an obsequious bow to the group, quitted the room; and having inquired of a servant if Miss Stanley was in the house, sent his respects, and requested permission to wait upon her. request was granted, and he was at once introduced to the apartment to which Clara had retreated. She was habited in deep mourning; yet notwithstanding the lapse of time, and the change which sorrow produces upon the countenance, he recognized in the faint smile with which she requested him to be seated, the expression that had so won upon him on the only occasion on which he had seen her when a child. His Now Mr. Tomkins, although not a man of polished deportment, possessed delicacy of feeling, which is not the necessary concomitant of refinement of manners. He came to condole with the fair orphan on her bereavement, and to offer his assistance; but he was embarrassed in his endeavours to do so without wounding her feelings. He mentioned that he had heard the sale had been somewhat unnecessarily precipitated, and much he feared to her temporary inconvenience; that supposing, therefore, she might not yet have fixed upon a residence, he had taken the liberty of calling to say that he had rooms in his house which were entirely at her service, until she could provide herself with more suitable apartments. He concluded by saying that he trusted his gray hairs, his character, and, he might add, his relationship, were sufficient warrants for the propriety of his invitation. With the warmth which belonged to her character, Clara expressed her gratitude for the generous offer, and the delicacy with which it was made; and, in frankly accepting it, she confessed that she did not know where else to find a shelter for the coming night. While she was packing the few things which her father's creditors had permitted her to retain, Mr. Tomkins proceeded to procure a coach, to which, after he had whispered a few words in the ear of the auctioneer, he conducted Clara, and they drove off. Having probably anticipated that their journey would terminate in some obscure and gloomy part of the metropolis, she was agreeably surprised on alighting at being introduced to a spacious house in the Adelphi, to which Mr. Tomkins welcomed her with unaffected cordiality. She was shown to her chamber by an elderly female, who acted in the joint capacity of housekeeper and cook, and who, having intimated to her that she would find her breakfast prepared in the adjoining apartment on the following morning, withdrew, leaving Clara to reflect on the occurrences of the last few hours, and to return thanks to the Almighty Being who had thus unexpectedly raised her up a friend in her distress. Next morning she rose early, as was her wont, and passed into the room which had been pointed out by her attendant. It was spacious, and commanded a view of the Thames. Conceive the measure of her surprise when, on looking around, she found that her own harp and bookcase, with its contents, had, through the generosity of her benefactor, been added to the furniture. Clara had too much activity and independence of mind to sit calmly down and eat the bread of idleness. Her first object, therefore, was to turn her talents to account by obtaining some private pupils, whom she could attend at their own houses; and to this end she determined to apply to a gentleman who had been a frequent guest of her father, and whose acquaintance, from his connection with the public press, was extensive. He was a native of the Green Isle, and possessed talents of no common order united to a caustic humour that, sparing neither friend nor foe, detracted very much from the value of his society, which, when he could resist his propensity to satire, was amusing and instructive in the highest degree. Under much, however, that was rude and even stern in his manner, there were concealed a kindness and generosity which Clara had on more than one occasion discovered, and this emboldened her to solicit his aid. In his reception of her the Irishman completely overcame the cynic. He informed her that he had called at her late father's residence on the preceding day, and was much disappointed on finding that she had quitted it a few hours before. He entered with such interest into her scheme, and followed it up by such strenuous exertions among his friends, that in a very few weeks Clara had no reason to complain of a dearth of pupils or occupation. The interim of leisure she devoted to drawing, in which she excelled, and, when she had finished half-a-dozen subjects, she took them to the shop of a celebrated dealer in works of art, to offer them for sale. She requested an interview with the principal, and was shown | frained from intruding on her society. He into a little room, apart from the shop, in which she found him seated. He was an elderly, tall, and somewhat hard-featured man, and received her with a coldness of manner which chilled her to the very heart. With diffidence she produced her drawings, which Mr. examined, for some minutes, with great attention. When he had finished his scrutiny, he turned abruptly to the fair artist, and said, "Well, miss, and what do you ask for these things?" Clara, after expressing a reluctance to put a value upon her own productions, ventured to name a guinea. A guinea!" exclaimed the other in a tone of surprise, and, after a pause, added, “No young woman, I will not give you a guinea for them; but I tell you what I will do, I will give you two."1 He, accordingly, put the amount into her hands, and, on dismissing her, said that, when she had any more drawings to dispose of, he should be happy to see her again. Three months passed away, at the end of which Clara, after deducting from the amount of her earnings a few shillings for pocketmoney, presented the remainder to Mr. Tomkins, with the expression of her regret that it was not in her power to offer him a more adequate remuneration for the kindness and accommodation she was experiencing under his roof. Mr. Tomkins regarded her, for some moments, with an expression of peculiar benevolence, and, appreciating the noble independence which prompted the offer, took the money: for he knew that his refusal would not only cause her pain, but render her continuance under his roof irksome to her, and he had no wish to part with his lodger, as he jocularly termed her. Tomkins, as I have already intimated, had been successful in trade, and now contented himself with the general superintendence of his establishment. Much of his leisure was occupied in those offices of benevolence which draw upon the time, as well as upon the pocket. His deportment towards Clara was a singular compound of kindness and respect: the former being exemplified by the great attention which he paid to her domestic comforts, and the deference which he exacted towards her from his servants; while the latter feeling exhibited itself in the scrupulosity with which he re 1 This anecdote was related to me by a gentleman who stands deservedly high among the artists of the day. was, in fact, too generous to take advantage of the relation of benefactor, in which, he could not but feel, he stood towards her, to overstep the barrier which, he imagined, education and their respective habits had placed between them. Clara, on her part, appreciated to the full the motives of delicacy by which he was governed, and neglected no occasion of proving to him that she was utterly free from that pride which renders little minds impatient of an obligation to one who has occupied an inferior situation to themselves. In one of her occasional interviews with him, she had heard him speak with admiration and regret of the scenery of his native place. It happened that she had once visited the spot, and had made some sketches of the surrounding country. These she took an opportunity of finishing, and, one day when he recurred to the subject, she presented him with the set. In Matters remained, for some months, upon this footing of almost parental kindness on the one part, and grateful attachment on the other: during which Clara pursued the plan of tuition she had adopted, with unremitting perseverance and the most unqualified success. about a year, however, the health of Mr. Tomkins began to fail: he was no longer able to take his accustomed walks, and at length became a prisoner to his room. The nature of his complaint was not such as to confine him to his bed, and, consequently, afforded Clara an opportunity of paying him many of those attentions which, though trifling in themselves, are so efficacious in soothing the sufferings and raising the spirits of the drooping valetudinarian. Relinquishing the amusements to which she had been accustomed to devote her leisure, she passed most of her evenings in Mr. Tomkins' apartment, and, by adroitly discovering, and sedulously humouring his tastes, she succeeded in imparting a cheerfulness to his hours of confinement. She read to him, played his favourite airs on her harp, and, with the anxious solicitude of an affectionate daughter, prepared the little delicacies to which his diet was restricted. Month after month passed away, and each found him worse than the preceding one; for his disease arose from that decay of nature which time, instead of alleviating, must necessarily promote. The old man had formed an accurate judgment of his malady and its tendency, and, as he had lived in a state of constant preparation for death, the awful summons did not appal him, for he had "set his house to endure them with her characteristic meekin order." In the latter stages of his suffering I was called upon to attend him, and thus became acquainted with his lovely protégée and her history. And it was a holy sight-that fair creature kneeling by his bed, and pouring, from the fulness of her heart, a prayer to the "Father of mercies, and the God of all comfort," for the continued supply of His allsufficient grace, in the last hour of Nature's struggle. Nor was that prayer breathed in vain. The sustaining consolations of the blessed Spirit were vouchsafed to him, and he looked back upon his past life calmly. Like the apostle, he had "fought a good fight," he had kept the faith," and, thenceforward, there was laid up for him, in heaven, a crown of glory which fadeth not away. What a lesson, worth all the eloquence of the preacher and all the learning of the commentator, does the death-scene of the Christian afford! Good cause, indeed, had Clara to weep over his remains, for he was her only friend, and the world was again before her. The day following that of the funeral was appointed for reading the will of the deceased. His relations were accordingly summoned, and Clara was also requested to be present. This was a trial which she would gladly have avoided, for she was conscious that the fact of her having been so constantly about the person of the testator during his last illness, and the affection which he was known to entertain for her, had excited the jealousy of many of his relatives. And, truly, it was with no complacent eyes that her presence was regarded by the majority of the company. The calm subdued expression with which she prepared to listen to the perusal of the will, was deemed only a mask to conceal the triumph which the consciousness of being well provided for was calculated to inspire. The document, on being read, was found to direct a most equitable distribution of his property among his relatives; but, to the great delight of many, and the astonishment of all but Clara, her name was not even mentioned in it. The solicitor, in the course of the perusal, occasionally glanced from the parchment to the countenance of the orphan, and was surprised to perceive that it was as free from any indications of anxiety as it was of disappointment when his task was finished. Some coarse remarks were made in the hearing of Clara by one or two of the party, but the consciousness of the injustice of the insinuations they were intended to convey, enabled her ness. When the company had dispersed, Clara found herself alone with the solicitor, a most respectable member of the profession, though an original in his way. He was a tall and somewhat bulky personage of about fifty, with a countenance expressive of shrewdness and good nature. "Well, Miss Stanley," said he, after a pause, "it seems to have been generally expected that my old friend Tomkins would have taken care of you in his will, and I must confess myself somewhat surprised that he has not done so." "I am neither surprised nor disappointed, sir," was Clara's reply; "and, as far as I can judge, he has made such a distribution of his property as might have been expected from his justice." 66 But," rejoined the lawyer, "one would think he might have left you a trifle, at least, as a token by which to remember him." "His kindness to me, sir, was such that I shall carry a grateful remembrance of it to the grave; so that a legacy, on that score, was quite unnecessary.' "You are an odd girl," exclaimed the man of law, "and exhibit so much indifference towards the dross for which one half the world are at loggerheads with the other, that I am almost minded to fling into the fire a little packet with which I meant to surprise you; but as the law, to say nothing of conscience (which is a legal fiction), might be troublesome if I did so, I suppose I may as well hand it over." Clara received the packet from the hands of Mr. Elphinstone, but found its contents utterly unintelligible, and accordingly requested an explanation. "Well then," said the lawyer, "the larger paper, with the picture at the top, is a policy of assurance, of long standing, for five thousand pounds, payable, with accumulations, amounting, as I guess, to about as much more, on the death of our late friend Mr. Tomkins. The smaller paper, with the red seal, is a deed, dated about six months back, by which, 'in consideration of his love and affection for his dear cousin, Clara Stanley,' he assigns to her, and her heirs, all right, title, and interest in the said policy of assurance for five thousand pounds, an act, which, if I had mentioned it in the hearing of the worthies who have just left us, would have accounted to them, though not very satisfactorily, for the omission of your name in the will." Clara, more affected by this proof of the af fection of her deceased relative than by being suddenly raised to a state of independence, dropped the documents upon the floor, and burst into tears. Mr. Elphinstone took a prodigious pinch of snuff, which operated so powerfully upon his visual organs as to require the instant application of his handkerchief, while he muttered, "The confounded draughts in this old house have given me a cold in the head:-extremely silly-preposterously unprofessional!" At last, recovering himself, he continued, "The money for the policy will not be receivable for some weeks, and therefore, if you like to trust me with it (and it will probably be safer in my strong room than in your workbox or reticule), I will take charge of it until it is wanted. As for yourself, I dare say the executor will not object to your remaining here, in your old quarters, until the house is given up: yet, no; on second thoughts, as you will now have no further occasion to go out teaching, you shall come and stay with my girls for a week or two;-nay, I will not be denied, so be pleased to get your paraphernalia together, and I will send my carriage for you at four o'clock: your heavy baggage may remain here for the present." slightest objection to unite her fate with one who had half of a fine practice in enjoyment, and the remainder in reversion, and that her ten thousand pounds were not altogether a matter of indifference to the gentleman. Clara had been a guest of Mr. Elphinstone for some weeks, when it was remarked, on two or three successive days, that he was unusually thoughtful and reserved at meals, although his deportment towards Clara was distinguished by his accustomed kindness. One afternoon, when the cloth had been removed, and the servants had retired, he informed her, that he had had an application from the residuary legatee and executor of Mr. Tomkins, calling upon him to surrender the policy of assurance, of the existence of which the party had been made acquainted by some old receipts, for the yearly payments, found among the testator's papers; and, on inquiry being instituted at the insurance office, the answer given was that notice of the assignment of the policy to Miss Stanley had been given by Mr. Elphinstone in the lifetime of Mr. Tomkins. The grounds on which the policy was claimed, as a part of the residuary estate, were the alleged imbecility of Mr. Tomkins at the time of executing the instrument by which it was conveyed, and the use of undue influence on the part of Miss Stanley or her friends. Mr. Elphinstone added, that he had, of course, refused to give up the policy, and that the claimant had, in consequence, served him with notice of action. It cannot be imagined that Clara received this intelligence without considerable uneasi apprehension of being engaged in a lawsuit, as by the idea of losing the fortune which her generous benefactor had designed for her. She asked Mr. Elphinstone what should be done. "Why, defend the action, to be sure!" was the reply. The family of Mr. Elphinstone consisted of his wife, a mild unaffected woman, some years his junior, three sprightly girls, and a son whom his father had educated for his own profession, and had recently taken into partnership. The latter was a lively, good-humoured young man, of rather prepossessing appearance, frank gentlemanly manners, and gifted withness, which was occasioned as much by the talents considerably above the average. From the whole of this amiable family Clara received a cordial welcome, and experienced every attention and kindness. By Harry Elphinstone, in particular, she was treated, I was about to write, as a sister; but a brother does not always rise an hour earlier than his wont, to drive his sister round the Regent's Park before breakfast; neither does he think it necessary to afford her his personal protection whenever she has occasion to walk the length of the street in which she lives; nor does he, on her account, levy the album-tax upon every artist and author within range of his acquaintance. Yet all this, and more, did Harry Elphinstone perform for Clara Stanley; while, on the other hand, it was surprising to witness the perfect complacency with which she received his attentions. From such premises but one conclusion could be drawn by those who dive into the motives of their neighbours. It was quite an understood thing that the young lady had not the "Surely," exclaimed Mrs. Elphinstone, "there is not a court in England which would not pronounce in Miss Stanley's favour." "That is a somewhat rash remark for a lawyer's wife," said her husband; "the law, it is true, always aims at justice, but she sometimes misses her mark; and this is just one of those cases which involve much that is matter of law, but more that is matter of opinion, and therefore matter of doubt. As to the assignment, I drew it myself, and I know it will hold water; but with regard to the competency of Mr. Tomkins at the time of executing it, although I am as convinced of it as of my own existence, it may not be quite so easy to make it apparent in a court of law. The plaintiff I |