"Do not judge too hastily," said Julia; "after you have fully examined the beauty of this elegant mausoleum. I will relate to you the history of the fair girl who is here buried."

Eugene stood for half an hour in silent contemplation of the tomb of Charlotte Canda. He could not cease to admire the beauty of the structure, the tasteful ornaments surrounding it, the marble flowerpots in which were planted rare flowers, the two angels, large as life, placed in either side of the tomb, as if guarding it from every intruder, and the tasteful manner in which flowers were placed around the inner side of a neat iron railing surrounding the monu

ment.

In the meantime, Julia had seated herself on a bench beneath the shade of a large oak tree, and Eugene having finished his survey, came and took a seat beside her.

"Charlotte Canda," began the fair girl, "was the only daughter of a rich French gentleman, who was the superintendant of a large and successful Seminary in New-York. This young lady was mistress of every accomplishment, and the idolized of her parents. Beautiful and wealthy, she was surrounded by suitors, and no ball or party among her acquaintances was considered complete without her presence.

"It was on her birth-night, when she had attained her seventeenth year, that she spent the evening from home, accompanied by her father, in her rich ball dress; she never looked more beautiful, and her

friends remarked that she never was so happy and joyous.

"It was late when they set out to return home, and as they stopped on the way to leave a lady, Mr. Canda having gone to wait on her to the door, the coachman negligently dropped the lines, and the horses started off on a run. As they turned the corner, Miss Canda fell through the open door upon the side walk, and was so injured that she never spoke after.

"It was said that the monument was designed by herself for a beloved aunt, who lies with her in the same spot. The grief of her parents none but parents can imagine; and her death cast a gloom upon the whole circle of her acquaintance.'

"A melancholy story, indeed," sighed Eugene, as they rose and walked on. The sun was now declining, and they entered their carriage to return. It was nearly dark when they arrived at her father's dwelling, and on parting with Miss Tennyson, Buckingham pressed her hand while he observed, "I omitted to mention that I am obliged to leave for home tomorrow; as I have received a letter from my father insisting on my immediate return-(this was true,) and I hope when I again visit the city, you will permit me to call on you."

Julia was both surprised and embarrassed. She became quite pale, and stammered forth-"Is it possible? I-I am sorry-I mean-I regret that you go so soon."

Then Eugene, much agitated drew from his coat pocket his daguerreotype, saying, "In the meantime, will you condescend to accept this?"

Julia started, hesitated, and at last replied "Not now." Then after a moment, "but I shall be happy to see you when you return."

And thus they parted.

As Buckingham, after leaving his horse at the livery stable, walked slowly down Broadway to the Astor, he mused thus: "Not now!' that surely means that she will accept it sometime. She evidently regards me favorably-and in time she will consent to be mine. Mine! will that glorious presenti ment of my life be ever realized? Yet, she said, 'not now,' and these two short words shall be the talisman upon which my hopes are centred."

At this moment a hand was laid upon his shoulder, and a voice exclaimed, "I say, Buckingham, what are you thinking about? I have been walking beside you these ten minutes and you never saw me."

Eugene started from his reverie and colored deeply as Arlington Melville looked closely in his face. "I was thinking," he replied,

"Of course-but on what subject? So, it is a secret?"

Our hero to evade the question, replied, "I am going home to-morrow."

"Oh! To the South. That is a place I have often desired to visit, said the other, "I have heard a

great deal about planters and slaves, and should like to make my own observations. I think I will go sometime."

แ "Why not now?" quickly exclaimed Eugene. "Come with me, you have nothing to prevent you. I should be most happy to introduce you to my father and sister."

"Sister, have you a sister? Well, let me see. When do you go?"

"To-morrow."

The young man mused for a few moments. Then shaking Eugene by the hand, he exclaimed— "I will go-many thanks for your invitation. Good bye, till to-morrow!" And he ran into the Irving House, leaving his friend to continue his walk alone.

Arlington Melville was a cousin of Julia's; and had just arrived from England, where his parents still resided. Although Eugene had often met him at Dr. Tennyson's house, where he seemed perfectly at home, he boarded at the Irving. Buckingham liked him much, especially as he saw plainly that he was no rival in the affections of the beautiful Julia, with whom his friendship was only a cousinly regard. Young, handsome and gay, with an educated mind, and heir to a considerable property in England, he was calculated to win admiration and esteem from all his acquaintance. Therefore Eugene was much pleased at the idea of his company on his journey home.

CHAPTER IV.

"To die is to be banished from myself;

"And Julia is myself; banished from her,

“Is self from self, a deadly banishment.”—Shakspeare.

"And though the slave be fettered in the flesh,
"He doth not feel his chains."-Tupper.

Buckingham and his young friend arrived at the dwelling of the former on the last day of June. They received a warm welcome from the Colonel and the fair Cora, who made a deep impression upon the heart of Melville. Her soft languid eyes, and her gentleness of demeanor, quite fascinated him.

Eugene had much to tell regarding his adventures in the North, nor was he long silent concerning the lovely Julia. Saying little in regard to his love for her, he related to his father and sister the whole history of his romantic acquaintance with the accomplished Miss Tennyson. After hearing him out, the old gentleman declared that if he had any idea of marrying her, he would banish him both from home and affection. "She is a portionless girl," said he;