with some one else in the absence of his bride elect.

That evening Captain Elliot dined with the Brownes, and was informed of Dr. Codliver's verdict.

"What, not waltz all the winter?-not go to any parties?" exclaimed Ella's intended husband; "what a howid baw!" And when the young lady proceeded to tell him about the leather bodice, he could scarcely have looked more distressed had a strait waistcoat been prescribed for her. However, Ella's father was peremptory in having these orders obeyed, and for some weeks all went well. But unluckily, early in December Major Browne was obliged to go to London to superintend some law business, and the morning after his departure, the post brought a note from Captain Elliot's mother and sisters, containing a pressing invitation for Ella to spend a few days. with them. Their place was only ten miles from Torquay, the weather was still mild and almost spring-like,—and, crowning temptation of all! there was to be a dance there the following week in honour of the coming of age of one of the family, at which of course Captain Elliot was to be present.

"I really think you had better not go, Ella,"

said her mother; "you know you must not dance anything but quadrilles, and you will look very odd and dowdy in a high dress amongst those stylish-looking Elliot girls."

"I suppose I look quite old-maidish in them, Mamma, do I not?" replied Ella; "high bodices are not in the least the fashion this winter, not even for demi-toilette,-what shall I do ?"

'Well, my dear, I don't know about looking old-maidish," replied the elder lady, “but you look very unfashionable; and it is the greater pity because you have such a fair skin and such pretty shoulders."

This speech went far in rousing poor Ella's half-slumbering vanity. She declared “the high dresses were all her father and the doctor's fidgety nonsense, and she should wear a low body and short sleeves, like other girls. There would be no night air for her to encounter, as the ball was at the Elliots' own house; and as to Papa," added the young lady, "he need know nothing about it, for he will be still in London."

Mrs. Browne laughed, and said Ella was a naughty darling; and so the discussion ended.

A lovely ball-dress of white tulle and scarlet blossoms was ordered for my heroine that afternoon; and when, on the much anticipated evening, Captain Elliot saw her arrayed in it, he said, and truly, that she was "passing fair."

It was a very brilliant assembly, and Ella soon became aware of the admiration she excited, and which an occasional glance in some mirror fully confirmed. The fashionable dress had indeed won her a ball-room triumph. And one transgression having so far succeeded, of course the next thing was to join in every dance, and forget all the Doctor's injunctions in the delights of waltz and polka.

My tale is nearly ended. Ella caught a severe cold which immediately settled upon her lungs, and ten days after the Elliots' ball, Dr. Codliver pronounced his young patient's case to be hopeless. There was the mourning, lamentation, and woe, usual when such decrees go forth; and then there was a hurried flight to a warmer climate. But Ella's days were numbered.

A magnificent monument of white marble, surmounted by a broken column, often attracts the admiration of visitors to the English burialground at Pau. They sigh and say "How sad!"

when they read the mournful tablet,-little dreaming that it covers only one of Fashion's slaves, and records a life wilfully sacrificed to the same exacting goddess.

223

CHAPTER XVIII.

PERSONAL RELIGION.

"Sunbeam of summer! oh, what is like thee,

Hope of the wilderness, joy of the sea?

One thing is like thee to mortals given—

The faith touching all things with hues of heaven."

Mrs. Hemans.

IN devoting one chapter of this work exclusively to the subject of personal religion, my readers must not imagine that I have any new or startling theory to bring under their notice. Neither need they fear that I am about to palm off upon them a species of sermon, by the novelty of commencing it with a few lines of secular poetry instead of a text from Scripture. There are so many works of a purely religious character for the young, from far abler pens than mine, that I have somewhat hesitated whether I would counsel you