seat, thrust the letters under a ledger, and prepared to receive his visitor with composure.

"I'm afraid I'm late, Simpson, and have kept you waiting," said a tall good-looking man, in a great coat and comforter round his neck, who entered the room with the familiarity of easy acquaintance; "but I came up by that d—d coach, for Bess had taken a mash when I received your summons, and I couldn't bring her out."

"I'm afraid you are wet," replied Mr. Simpson, stirring the fire, and drawing forward the other arm chair, whilst the visitor took off his great coat and comforter, and hung them on pegs appropriated to such uses.

"But what's the matter?" said he, "there's nothing wrong, is there?"

"How's Miss Wentworth, Sir?" inquired Mr. Simpson.

"Quite well," returned Mr Gaveston, for it was he; "you know we're to be married in a few days, and she desired me to say that she hoped you would come down and be present at the ceremony."

"I fear that will not be in my power," replied Mr. Simpson, with a sigh, and casting his eye on a handsome mourning ring that he wore on his little finger.