Among these ditties was one, the last of the concert, and to the

following effect: Ah! bleak and barren was the moor, Ah! loud and piercing was the storm,

The cottage roof was shelter'd sure, The cottage hearth was bright and

warm--An orphan boy the lattice pass'd, And, as he mark'd its cheerful

glow, Felt doubly keen the midnight blast, And doubly cold the fallen

snow.

They mark'd him as he onward prest, With fainting heart and weary limb;

Kind voices bade him turn and rest, And gentle faces welcomed him. The

dawn is up--the guest is gone, The cottage hearth is blazing still;

Heaven pity all poor wanderers lone! Hark to the wind upon the hill!

It was the sentiment of the before-mentioned words, "When I'm gone,"

over again. As she came to the last words, Miss Sharp's "deep-toned

voice faltered." Everybody felt the allusion to her departure, and to

her hapless orphan state. Joseph Sedley, who was fond of music, and

soft-hearted, was in a state of ravishment during the performance of

the song, and profoundly touched at its conclusion. If he had had the

courage; if George and Miss Sedley had remained, according to the

former's proposal, in the farther room, Joseph Sedley's bachelorhood

would have been at an end, and this work would never have been written.

But at the close of the ditty, Rebecca quitted the piano, and giving

her hand to Amelia, walked away into the front drawing-room twilight;

and, at this moment, Mr. Sambo made his appearance with a tray,

containing sandwiches, jellies, and some glittering glasses and

decanters, on which Joseph Sedley's attention was immediately fixed.

When the parents of the house of Sedley returned from their

dinner-party, they found the young people so busy in talking, that they

had not heard the arrival of the carriage, and Mr. Joseph was in the

act of saying, "My dear Miss Sharp, one little teaspoonful of jelly to

recruit you after your immense--your--your delightful exertions."

"Bravo, Jos!" said Mr. Sedley; on hearing the bantering of which

well-known voice, Jos instantly relapsed into an alarmed silence, and

quickly took his departure. He did not lie awake all night thinking

whether or not he was in love with Miss Sharp; the passion of love

never interfered with the appetite or the slumber of Mr. Joseph Sedley;

but he thought to himself how delightful it would be to hear such songs

as those after Cutcherry--what a distinguee girl she was--how she could

speak French better than the Governor-General's lady herself--and what

a sensation she would make at the Calcutta balls. "It's evident the

poor devil's in love with me," thought he. "She is just as rich as

most of the girls who come out to India. I might go farther, and fare

worse, egad!" And in these meditations he fell asleep.




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