Ne'er may afford You a lost chance restored, Till both you and your shirt are grown old and pea-soup-colour'd! I would also desire You to guard your attire, Young Ladies, and never go too near the fire! Last of all, Gentle Reader, don't be too secure! How you hang your shirt over the back of your chair !— "Twixt the cup and the lip! Be this excellent proverb, then, well understood, And DON'T HALLOO BEFORE YOU'RE QUITE OUT OF THE WOOD!!! A SONG FOR THE END OF TERM. Lætum Hilaremque diem.-Juv. HURRAH! for the Vacation. Air-The Keel row. Who will not do the same! Your gloomy moralisers He'll floor them great and small! In loco" beats them all! He tells that Dan Apollo,* His bow would oft unstring; Or else they lose their spring! Now that the Term is o'er? "Collections," When past are our Are homeward turn'd once more? We live but in their smile! By absence for the while! To sigh when we can sing! We'll make the welkin ring! For we're all right good fellows, Of parting, of parting, * Neque semper arcum As Amelia had been led to expect Stanley at eleven, when the clock struck one she began to experience that species of painful anxiety, of which it is to be hoped men in general are ignorant, inasmuch as their ignorance of it alone can rescue them from the heavy charge of absolute cruelty. Stanley had never before forfeited his word. Whenever he had said distinctly that he would be at home at such an hour, at that hour he had invariably returned. Still, could she have seen him then, she would have been quite content; for she chided her impatience, and conceived for him numerous excuses, and contended with herself that she ought not to expect him to run away at a moment's notice, as if indeed he were her slave; which, of course, was very amiable, and for the time being had a good effect. Two o'clock came. She rose and went to the piano, with the view of learning a new song; but this was a task she was utterly unable to accomplish. Although her eyes followed the notes and the words with due precision, her thoughts were of Stanley, and him alone. The clock struck three. This is not quite kind, thought Amelia. But that thought was instantly checked; she would not cherish the idea of his unkindness for a moment; she conceived it to be unjust; and hence, in order to banish it effectually, she opened a new and popular novel, which, however, failed to interest her. Still she kept her eyes fixed upon its pages, and tried to enter into its spirit, until the clock struck four, when she burst into tears. For the first time she felt that she was neglected, and that feeling was fraught with a terrible pang. And clearly, had she been able to ward it off much longer, she must have been either more or less than mortal. No creature ever loved with more warmth and devotion, none could ever have been more gentle, more patient, more confiding; but let those who may be inclined to deem her suspicions of neglect either wholly unjustifiable or premature, compare her former position with that which she now occupied. But a few weeks before she was the centre of a circle of affectionate relatives and friends, the beloved of all by whom she was surrounded. All strove to anticipate her wishes, to contribute in every possible way to her happiness; and enjoying, as she did to the full extent their sweet society, she was happy, and buoyant, and gay. These friends, this society, this happiness, she had sacrificed for one in whom her heart of hearts had taught her to confide, but who neglected her, not, indeed, from any base desire to do so, but for want of resolution to avoid those temptations which he ought before their union to have taught himself to resist. She had now no society, no friends around her; she had given up all for him, and he was almost continually absent. Who, then, can marvel that she experienced painful feelings? Oh! how much misery and vice would be averted if they who possess every blessing which parental affection can impart, with every comfort which affluence can collaterally yield, were deliberately to weigh present happiness against the prospect of realising that which is based upon hope! "Surely," exclaimed Amelia, "something dreadful must have happened. He must have met with some very sad accident; he must have been maimed or robbed by heartless ruffians—perhaps murdered!" Something of a serious nature she felt sure had occurred, or he certainly would not have remained out so late. Yet what could she do? Should she send to the hotel? He surely could not, under the circumstances, be angry if she were to do so? She rang the bell at once, and, on being informed that Bob was in bed, desired William to get into the first cab he met, and to hasten to the Tavistock. "Do not," she added, on any account send in. Simply inquire if your master is there, and come back to me as quickly as possible." The servant started, and Amelia paced the room in a state of anxiety the most intense; for since she had conceived the probability of his having been injured, that belief was each succeeding moment more and more confirmed. She opened the window, and went out on the balcony, and listened to every footstep and every vehicle that approached; but as this was a source of continual disappointment, she paced the room again, resolved to wait until the servant returned with all the patience she could summon. At length a cab stopped at the door, when she rang the bell violently, and flew to the stairs. It was a single knock, and her heart sank within her. The door was opened, and William entered to convey the intelligence that the hotel was closed; that not a light was to be seen; and that he had rung the bell again and again without obtaining an answer. What was to be done? A thousand new fears were conceived in an instant. She rang the bell for her maid; she could no longer bear to be alone; her mind was on the rack, and every fresh apprehension teemed with others of a character more and more appalling. "Good Heavens! Smith, what am I to do!" she exclaimed, as her maid entered. "What is to be done!" And again she burst into tears, which for a time overwhelmed her. 66 My dear, dear lady, cheer up. Don't distress yourself, pray don't. He can't be long now; he is sure to return soon." " "Oh! Smith, I fear not. I fear that some frightful accident has happened. Sit down and stay with me. If he don't soon return I shall go mad!" Smith did as she was desired; but she had not been seated long before she began to nod and breathe very hard. Amelia started up to pace the room again, but Smith was unable to keep her eyes open even for an instant; and as in a very short time her hard breathing amounted to a most unpleasing snore, her mistress dismissed her to bed. The clock struck five, and Amelia was again quite alone. Her state of mind was now frightful. Every horrible accident that could be conceived she imagined by turns had befallen Stanley. She again went to the window, and after looking out upon the darkness for some time, so excited and so nervous that the motion of a mouse would have alarmed her, she was about to return to the fire, when she was startled by the sound of a harsh cracked voice upon the stairs. Her blood chilled, and she became motionless; she listened, and trembled violently as she listened; it was some man singing! The tune changed, and the tones became nearer and more harsh, and she distinctly heard the words, Oh, the roses is red, and the wiolets is blue, But then neither doves, roses, nor wiolets won't do For to match with the gal wot I love. Who was it? Whom on earth could it be? Some burglar, perhaps, whom drink had made reckless? She was about to dart from the window to the bell, with the view of summoning assistance; but as at the moment she heard the handle of the door turn, she flew behind the curtain in a state of mind the most dreadful that can possibly be conceived. The door opened, and she heard some one enter and walk across the room. She was half dead with fright; she did not dare to touch the curtain ; but as she at length summoned courage sufficient to look through an opening, she saw the back of a man without his coat standing thoughtfully before the fire. She felt as if she could have sunk into the earth. Her agitation was excessive. The next moment, however, the man turned his head, and she beheld - Bob in a fit of somnambulism, with a pair of Stanley's boots in his hand! She had heard of his being a somnambulist, but had never before seen him in that character; and, although her apprehensions having reference to the crime of burglary vanished, she would neither make her appearance, nor allow herself with any degree of freedom to breathe. Bob stood before the fire for a considerable time, and when he felt himself thoroughly comfortable and warm, he began again to sing the refrain touching the character of the girl whom he loved. He then placed the boots upon the rug, and his candle upon the table near the tray which had been set out for chocolate, and upon which were two peculiarly-shaped bottles, one containing maraschino, and the other curaçoa, of which Stanley after chocolate was especially fond. Bob looked at these bottles for a minute or two, as if some very powerful inclination had been struggling with his conscience; but it appeared that his conscience submitted to a defeat, for he poured out a glass of maraschino and drank it. He then looked steadily at the bottle beside it, and at length helped himself to a glass of curaçoa; not, indeed, because he appeared to dislike the maraschino-by no means: it was manifest that his object was simply to taste both, that he might know which was fairly entitled to his preference. This point, however, he appeared to be even then unable to decide with any degree of satisfaction to himself. He rolled his tongue over and over, and nodded, and winked, and smacked his lips with due gusto in honour of each; and as he evidently fancied that both were particularly pleasant, he naturally felt that he should like to ascertain precisely how they relished together. Actuated by this highly laudable impulse, he poured out about half a glass of maraschino, and then filled it up to the brim with curaçoa, and having placed the two bottles exactly where he found them, he drank the delicious mixture, and, by smacking his lips louder than before, really appeared to approve of it highly. His attention was then directed to the appearance of the glass, which, by dint of zealous rubbing and breathing, for he found the task exceedingly difficult of accomplishment, in consequence of the glutinous character of the liqueurs, he eventually polished with the blue cotton kerchief he wore round his neck; when, having tied that little article on again with care, he re-established the glass upside down in the proper spot, took up his light, and walked from the room with all the deliberate dignity in his nature. Amelia now quitted her place of concealment, and sank into a chair in a state of exhaustion. It was six o'clock. Her thoughts reverted to Stanley, and as her mind came again quite fresh upon the subject, she conceived a variety of fresh fears. That which took the firmest hold was, that Stanley and her father had met the previous evening; that of course they had quarrelled; that a challenge had passed between them; and that they had both kept from home, with the view of meeting each other at daybreak in the field. She knew the high resolute spirit of her father; she knew also the fiery disposition of Stanley, and felt that, under the existing circumstances, a duel would be the inevitable result of their meeting. She then dwelt upon the probability of either her father being killed by Stanley, or Stanley being killed by her father, with an effect so terrible, that she became almost frantic. Seven, eight, nine o'clock came; still Stanley did not return. She rang again for the servants. She knew several of the friends with whom he had dined the previous evening, and to them she sent at once to ascertain what they knew about Stanley. The answer in each case was, that he had left the party early in the evening alone, which had the same effect upon her as if her worst fears had been absolutely realised. She was distracted; she knew not what to do; nor had she a single soul near her with whom to advise. At length she sent for a coach, and, attended by one of the servants, proceeded to the house of the widow, whom she found just sitting down to breakfast, and who became so excessively alarmed on perceiving Amelia's agitation, that she almost fainted. "Good gracious!" she exclaimed, "what on earth is the matter? What has happened to Stanley? My dear girl, what is it?" "I cannot tell what," replied Amelia, in tears; "but I am sure that something dreadful has occurred. He has not been home all night!" "Ho!" exclaimed the widow, between a whisper and a groan, as if the announcement had really to some extent relieved her, when, kissing Amelia affectionately, she added, "My child, we must hope for the best. Let us hope that he is at home even now. I'll go with you at once. Depend upon it, my love, you will find him when you return." They therefore immediately started, and on the way it was evident that the widow had something in her more experienced head, of which Amelia had happily no conception. She was not, however, without her apprehensions, although they were neither so lively nor so terrible as those of Amelia, until she was informed of the assumed probability of Stanley and Captain Joliffe having met, quarrelled, and fought, when her alarm became, if possible, more frightfully intense than even that of Amelia herself. "Gracious!" she cried, raising her hands, and assuming an expression of horror. "And is your father bloodthirsty, my love?" “Oh, dear me, no! quite the reverse!” "But has he been accustomed to shooting, my dear?” "He is a soldier," returned Amelia. "I see it all! I see it all! My Stanley is no soldier; he never had, to my knowledge, a pistol in his hand. He is sacrificed!-cruelly sacrificed! My love, send to Richmond this moment - send instantly, to ascertain whether Stanley has been heard of, and whether the captain, your father, be at home. Send Robert; he will make the most haste." Bob was accordingly summoned, and desired to mount his swiftest |