Cora made no reply, but Arlington observed, "I think he deserves a little correction; Miss Buckingham's flowers are rare."

Susanna looked around as if surprised. "O, did he hurt the flowers? That was wrong. Here Diana," continued she, addressing her attendant slave, "take him and shut him up in the house, he deserves punishment, but I prefer to correct him myself," with an angry look at Cora, who, however, took no notice of it, but walked on, leaning on the arm of her lover, with her usual languid air.

This little incident, trifling as it was, indicated a trait in the character of Miss Jones that caused Eugene to dislike her more than ever. "What a wife she would make," he thought, "with her domineering passionate disposition."

At two in the afternoon dinner was announced. During the meal Eugene was silent and abstracted, while the rest were conversing with much vivacity. Miss Jones, who, by his father's management, was placed beside him, chattered in his ear like a magpie, although he scarcely gave her a word in return, notwithstanding he met the Colonel's angry eye upon him every time he glanced in that direction.

After dinner they repaired to the parlor, and Colonel Buckingham approaching his son and Susan

na, who were looking over a portfolio of Cora's drawings, observed, "Did my daughter tell you, Miss Jones, of her engagement ?"

"No, she did not," answered that lady with some surprise.

"There is the gentleman;" pointing to Melville, who was seated with Cora at one of the windows. "And I think," he continued in a jesting tone, “that we ought to have another engagement soon. What say you Eugene ?"

Susanna put her fan before her face, and tried very hard to raise a blush, but she only looked tickled, while the young man, starting as if from a reverie, exclaimed, "Sir !”

His father gave him a glance that plainly said, "I am not to be trifled with," but Eugene cared not, he only waited to hear him speak.

"My respectable friend, Mr. Jones, has agreed with me that it would be a meet and advantageous thing for all parties, that the persons and fortunes of our children should be united. Therefore, as Miss Jones is not averse and Eugene can not be, I propose that the wedding come off by the latter end of next month."

"And I second that proposal," said Jones, advancing.

This scene would have made an excellent picture.

There stood the Colonel, tall and commanding, his arms folded, and his eyes bent sternly on his son-near him was Jones, a small, dark man, of insignificant appearance, looking on with a smirking countenance-his daughter Susanna close to our hero, her head turned aside and her handkerchief before her face, trying to look modest-in the back-ground Cora and Arlington looking up with much surprise on their countenances, and Eugene himself, his tall form drawn up to its full height, his dark eyes flashing, and every lineament of his countenance expressing anger and disdain.

Full two minutes passed before another word was spoken. Then Eugene, in a voice trembling with subdued passion, ejaculated—“ Am I a slave? I will not submit to such tyranny! I will not be forced to marry against my will!" And as he spoke, he broke abruptly from their presence and was seen no more that day.

Jones sneaked into a corner, looking disappointed and foolish, while the elder Buckingham walked the floor with hasty strides, endeavoring to subdue the rising anger within him; and Susanna, after standing silent awhile, concluded to go into hysterics, and succeeded very well in frightening Cora and the young slaves. Melville, bursting with laughter, ran incon

tinently out of the house; and after indulging in merriment awhile, commenced singing as a finale to the performance,

"Oh, Susanna, don't you cry for me !"

CHAPTER VII.

"The wanderer was alone as heretofore:
"The beings which surrounded him were gone,
"Or were at war with him; he was a mark
'For blight and desolation."

After what had passed, Eugene was resolved again to quit his home, and in two days time found himself on his way to New-York, accompanied by Melville, whose private affairs obliged him to absent himself from his betrothed. Cora was very unhappy at the idea of his leaving her. "Perhaps," she sighed, "You will never return."

"Cruel girl!" was his reply, to harbor such a doubt.

Yet, their parting was one of love and regret; and when her brother in his turn, bade her adieu, there was a tear in his eye, which brought a shower to those of Cora. Eugene took no leave of his father, for the Colonel kept purposely aloof: and when the