as she flew to the window

she again sunk upon her seat.

"Thank God!" as

The Major it certainly was in propria persona, slowly and laboriously plodding his weary way, close buttoned to the chin, though evidently ready to drop with heat and fatigue. He carried a handkerchief in his hand, which he ever and anon applied to his face, which shone forth like a piece of polished yew. To add to his pcrturbation, Miss Pratt, throwing open a window, screeched out to him

"Come away, Major, make haste;-here's your good lady in hysterics almost about you."

The poor Major, uttering an ejaculation of despair, did his utmost to mend his pace, and again the drooping capes, arms, sails, and tails of his cloak were all in commotion, as the inward man struggled and plunged amidst the toils of broadcloth and timmen, till at length the whole mass came floundering into the room.

"O, Major!" exclaimed his lady faintly, as she rose to meet him.

66

My sweet girl, what is all this?” cried the Major, as he cast back part of his folds, and extended his arms like claws towards her.

"I have been so frightened about you, Major. You must have met with something; you are so heated, and-do tell me what has happened; I see you have met with something."

My dearest girl, I do assure you I have met with nothing. I have been rather on a wildgoose chace to be sure, trying to overtake my charge, the Countess there; but," turning to Colonel Delmour and her, "I could not make you hear me at all, though I had you in sight almost all the way." At this remark there was a smile on Colonel Delmour's lip, and a slight blush on Lady Rossville's cheek, which Miss Pratt did not like, and a sort of vague tremor ran through her frame.

"That was very odd," said Mrs Major recovering" I never doubted you were all together. I shall take care another time how I trust you to walk without me.-O! you have got yourself heated to such a degree, I am sure you will catch your death of cold.-Pray, Miss Pratt, shut down that window ;-now, Major, do sit away from the door, and, I beseech you, don't think of taking off your cloak till you are cooler."

"My dear Bell," gasped the almost suffocat

ing Major.

"Now, Major, I entreat of you”

"But-'pon my soul, this is a thousand degrees hotter than ever I felt it in Bengal."

"Well-but, Major, you know very well how ill you were in consequence of throwing off your cloak suddenly one sunny day, when you had got yourself over-heated, and you promised me, that you never would do so again."

"But, my dear Bell, this is absolutely like a day in June."

"Now, Major, I can only say

But happily for all concerned, the lady's sayings were here stopped by the sound of the dressing-bell, and half-distracted betwixt her desire to superintend the cooling of the Major, by keeping him in a hot room enveloped in his cloak, and her anxiety to dedicate the full three-quarters of an hour to the duties of her toilette, and the display of her Oriental finery, she felt much at a loss which to choose-at length, the woman prevailed over the wife, and the Major was allowed to betake himself to his dressing-room, while the lady repaired to hers.

CHAPTER III.

Ah! sure as Hindu legends tell,
When Music's tones the bosom swell,
The scenes of former life return,
Ere sunk beneath the morning star,
We leftour parent climes afar,
Immured in mortal forms to mourn.

Or if, as ancient sages ween,
Departed spirits half unseen,

Can mingle with the mortal throng,
'Tis when from heart to heart we roll

The deep-toned music of the soul
That warbles in our Scottish song.

LEYDEN.

Ar dinner, Mrs Major reappeared in a dress which might have done honour to Cinderella's godmother; but which, even with the aid of Hyder Ally's carbuncle, had no effect in subduing uncle Adam's flinty heart towards her. He, however, received her salutations with tolerable composure; and, moreover, permitted her to touch his hands, but as for shaking them, that

was an effort little short of tearing the limpet from its native rock. As for the Major, he was too much exhausted by the toils of the day to be able even to offend, being reduced to a state of perfect passiveness.

"What a pretty woman your niece, Mrs Waddell, is," whispered Miss Pratt, as uncle Adam and she stotted along, as usual, to dinner. "Pretty!—what makes her pretty ?—wi' a face like a sooket carvy!"

"Ah, to be sure, she's not like Lady Rossville; but where will you see the like of her? such a distinguished-looking creature as she is; for you see, although she has but that bit myrtle in her hair, that she brought in in her hand from the green-house before dinner, how much better her head looks than Mrs Waddell's, with that fine pearl-sprig, that must have cost her many a gold rupee;—as Anthony Whyte would say, she's really very classical."

"I wish you wud nae compare them," interrupted Mr Ramsay, impatiently; as his temper was still farther irritated at seeing the haughty, but graceful, air with which Colonel Delmour