There was a smart rap at the door, and in came in full spirits Frank Ridgley. Esther, who was surprised and sincerely glad to see him, showed it in her benevolent countenance. His manner was a little embarrassed ; for he had not forgotten that he had once been in love, though now cured of it ; and remembering Esther's prophecy, he coloured and looked a little ashamed to think that she should see him alive and well again. Paul felt something like uneasiness at the expres- sion of Esther's face, and an impatient doubt passed through his mind as he observed Frank's embarrassed manner. It was that old distrust of himself, and of his power to interest another deeply, making him question the possibility of a sincere and enduring passion for him, and not a proneness to think lightly of others' virtue, which haunted him. Frank was a man much below Paul in force of character, and feeling, and intellectual power; yet he was his very opposite in mind and person ; and this left Paul room to harass himself with surmises, and torture himself with the agony with which hum- bling thoughts afflict proud men. „ Mr. Felton," said Esther, a little agitated at introducing Paul, " this is an old acquaintance of mine, Mr. Ridgley." His eye fastened on Esther, as if he was reading her very soul. He saw her agitation, but mistook the cause. He rose slowly from his chair, out of the dark corner in which he was sitting, and giving his hand deliberately to Frank, and looking downward, said gravely, " Sir, I am happy to see you."— As the light struck upon his figure, and he took Frank's hand, Frank shrunk back a little, as if not altogether safe. The deep, and scarcely audible voice in which he spoke, his dark countenance, his low, muscular form on which Frank looked down, all seemed possessed of some strange power. Frank involuntarily turned towards Esther, as if in wonder that any thing belonging to such a being could be so gentle, and fair, and cheerful. Esther trembled as she observed Paul, though she hardly knew why ; and seeing Frank look- ing at her, blushed deeply, for she knew what was passing in his mind. Paul glanced his eye swiftly on both of them, and bowing low, drew back into his seat. The room was lighted, and Frank, who was of too cheerful a disposition to be made long uneasy by unpleasant thoughts, began in full spirits to talk about old times and all he had seen since leaving home. His gayety was not of that sort which we sit and look at with a good natured acquiescence, and are pleased to see so well played off; but it was communicative, driving away our troubles, and making us feel for the time as if we ourselves were of too happy a temperament ever to be melancholy. He was a man of. good sense, too, and of right honest and kind feelings, and there- fore much better fitted for the true purposes of travel than those who go equipped with every thing that can be thought of except straight heads and good hearts. His gayety and humour were mingled with just observations, and softened down by the propriety and delicacy natural to his character; and these, with a graceful and elegant person and handsome countenance, and a certain deference of manner, made him a favourite wherever he went, particularly amongst the women. Notwithstanding the effect Paul's appear- ance had on him, he knew Esther too well to think that any attention he might pay her would reconcile her to a neglect of her husband. This might be one of her singularities ; but it was not to be disregarded. Besides, however reserved and silent Paul might be, no one could sit near him and forget who was by his side. Though Paul was distant and cold at first, the ease and propriety of Frank's remarks were not unobserved by him, and he was gradually led to be a part in the conversation ; and when he did, Frank no longer wondered at his power over her ; though at the same time, (he knew not why ) he was conscious of something like unea- siness and distrust on her account. On the whole, the evening passed off very well, and Esther´s heart was lightened to think it had ended so much better than it began. When Frank withdrew, Paul became silent.— „It is not yet quite two years since she first saw him" said he to himself; "and who can tell how many times since she was a child, to that hour, she has sighed as she thought on some other man ?" — He stirred in his chair. Esther looked at him, but he seemed buried in thought. — " And was it mere chance that has fixed her love at last on me ? And have the same hopes and same desires which rest on me, been breathed forth in hence for another when I was unknown ? And had she never seen me, might she not have looked as fondly on some other man, and hung on him as she will on me now ?"— It was hate- ful to him to think on it. There is no man of sentiment who would not gladly be rid of such thoughts if he could ; he practises upon himself to believe it was otherwise; and though half conscious of the self-deception, gathers some relief even from that. But Paul was made for self-torture ; beside, he had so long lived a lonely man, that what he felt, was not so to be shuffled off. He considered with himself, and considered truly, that there is not one woman in a thousand, who has not, at some time or other, imagined herself in love with another man than him she at last marries.. It made him writhe with impa- tience. At last Esther said aloud, but without raising her eyes from a print on which she was looking, " he is certainly very amiable." "Do you mean that swine-feeder?" asked Paul sarcastically, as he looked up. " I was not then thinking of him or his pigs," she replied, smiling. " You should be more definite then, my dear. You forget that every one's thoughts do not take the same road with yours. Yes, he is one of the handsomest men I've met with, and of a very winning address.' " Handsome, did I say?" asked Esther. " I know not that you did ; yet you think him so, surely, do you not ?" „ Certainly I do ; but I was speaking of his heart." „ O, of his heart. Of that you know more than I do." " And well I may, Paul, for I have known Frank Ridgley from a boy." "Very like," said Paul — then spoke of the weather, and soon left the room. He at this time believed Esther of a mind as open as the day ; yet because his own person and bearing had nothing graceful or attractive in it, he made these properties of too much importance, forget- ting how much less women regard such things in us than wo do in them. He remembered Frank's appearance, and the idea took possession of him, that there must have been a time when he had place in her youthful imagination. This was a poisonous thought to take root in a mind like Paul's. The next day, as Paul was returning home from a morning's walk, he saw at a distance, Frank leaving the house.-—" I thought as much, —a lady's man, who plays his glove, and shows a white hand. We value ourselves and are valued on the turn of a finger nail ; and what is worse, our sober, retired thoughts are put out o'doors, and our minds fitted up for shows and gala-days." Frank soon came along, looking fresh as the morning, and wished Paul, gayly, a pleasant day, as he passed by. Paul bowed his head slowly, and walked on homeward. "And what have you there?" asked Esther, going towards him as he entered the room. „ Constancy, Esther, constancy." " Give it me then," said she, catching it out of his hand. " Yet I'll not take it all. There, it shall be between us. Stay, let me have it again, and I'll plant it under this window that it may grow all together. And I'll water it daily." "Look well to it, lest a blight take it," " It is not so tender that it need watching so, surely." " Yes, but it is, Esther — it is often blasted." „ I read not so of it." ' " Then your books are a lie; do not trust them." " I will not, nor myself neither. 'Tis yours again, and you shall tend it. I am too heedless and gay for such continual care. Come, lay by that sombre countenance, and fit you with a more cheerful look, for we are to have a splendid ball at the village. Frank has been here and spoiled my morning, with talk of figures and dresses. And I know not but that you would have found me in full practice, had I not pro- tested against dancing at high noon.— Now, take me not in earnest, Paul." " Would that I could tell when I might, Esther. My heart is ill at ease, and I cannot trifle now." " And is it I, who have broken its peace ?" asked she, as she leaned fondly on him. „It was my hope, and all which made me happy, that I should be its place of rest and joy. I seem to you too much a trifler for your graver nature. I, too, was graver than now before I knew you, Paul. It is the overjoy that you have filled my heart with, which makes me so prattling and wild, like a child. 'Tis that I feel almost too much, and not too little. Yet sometimes it makes me thoughtful, nearly to melancholy, instead of gay. I wish it always did, for then I should be like you, and content you better. And you would never then cast on me that look of sorrow and reproof which you did just now, would you, Paul ?" she asked, looking up at him, with a smile, as she rested on him, the tears starting to her eyes. "Be like me, Esther! You little know what you're wishing for. Be like yourself," said he, laying his hand on her open brow, "be good and be happy. Misery is but another name for sin, — for imperfect virtue. Could we cast off our frailties, man might walk through the afflictions, the losses, and wrongs of life with the calm of heaven within him, and its glory round about him. I've had visions of it, and they have changed this vile thing you lean on, to the bright soul and shape of angels." She gazed on him without breathing. His face was turned upward, and he seemed as if seeing into the world above him. His look was fixed and calm as the sky. He stood for a time as if rapt in holy converse. By and by a cloud passed, his countenance became dark as night, and his head sunk on his bosom. Esther could look no longer. Paul seemed sinking beneath her weight. She raised herself, and he turned, and walked slowly out of the room. She would have followed him, but she could not move.
