had retired, he betook himself to bed, with comparatively none of those heart-smitings which had kept him sleepless the night before. The men with whom he had been playing were evidently no professional gamblers, and he felt himself safe in their hands.

and Hillier to the establishment in

To the opera, pursuant to promise, he went, and to Apsley's. At the former he recognized several of his college acquaintance; and at the latter's house he spent a delightful evening, never having said better things, and never being more flatteringly attended to; and the night's social enjoyment was wound up with a friendly rubber for stakes laughably small. This was Sir Edward's scheme, for he was not, it will be recollected, to "frighten the bird." The doomed Beauchamp retired to rest, better satisfied with himself and his friends than ever; for he had transacted a little real business during the day; written two letters to the country, and dispatched them, with a pair of magnificent bracelets, to Ellen; played the whole evening at unpretending whist, and won two guineas, instead of accompanying Lord Street, where he might have lost hundreds. A worthy old English bishop says, "The devil then maketh sure of us, when we do make sure of ourselves." A wise maxim! Poor Beauchamp now began to feel confidence in his own strength of purpose. He thought he had been weighed in the balance, and not found wanting. He was as deeply convinced as ever of the pernicious effects of an inordinate love of play; but had he that passion? No! He recollected the healthful thrill of horror and disgust with which he listened to Lord's entreaties to accompany him to the gaming-house, and was satisfied. He took an early opportunity of writing home, to apprize his mother and cousin that he intended to continue in town a month or six weeks, and assigned satisfactory reasons for his protracted stay. He wrote in the warmest terms to both of them, and said he should be counting the days till he threw himself into their arms. "'Tis this tiresome Twister, our attorney, that must answer for my long stay. There is no quickening his phlegmatic disposition! When I would hurry and press him, he shrugs his shoulders, and says there's no doing law by steam. He says he fears the Chancery affairs will prove very tedious and they are in such a state just now, that, were

I to return into the country, I should be summoned up to town again in a twinkling. Now, I am here, I will get all this business fairly off my hands. So, by this day six weeks, dearest coz, expect to see at your feet, yours eternally-H. B."

But, alas! that day saw Beauchamp in a new and startling character-that of an infatuated gamester!-During that fatal six weeks, he had lost several thousand pounds, and had utterly neglected the business which brought him up to town-for his whole heart was with French Hazard and Rouge et Noir ! Even his outward appearance had undergone a strange alteration. His cheeks and forehead wore the sallow hue of dissipation —his eyes were weak and bloodshot-his hands trembled—and every movement indicated the highest degree of nervous irritability. He had become vexed and out of temper with all about him, but especially with himself, and never could "bring himself up to par" till seven or eight o'clock in the evening, at dinner, when he was warming with wine. The first thing in the mornings, also, he felt it necessary to fortify himself against the agitations of the day, by a smart draught of brandy or liqueur! If the mere love of temporary excitement had been sufficient, in the first instance, to allure him on to play, the desire for retrieving his losses now supplied a stronger motive for persevering in his dangerous and destructive career. Ten thousand pounds, the lowest amount of his losses, was a sum he could not afford to lose, without very serious inconvenience. Gracious God !-what would his aged mother-what would Ellen say, if they knew the mode and amount of his losses? The thought distracted him! He had drawn out of his banker's hands all the floating balance he had placed there on arriving in town; and, in short, he had been at last compelled to mortgage one of his favourite estates for £8000; and how to conceal the transaction from his mother, without making desperate and successful efforts to recover himself at play, he did not know. He had now got inextricably involved with Sir Edward and his set, who never allowed him a moment's time to come to himself, but were ever ready with diversified sources of amusement. Under their damned tutelage, Beauchamp commenced the systematic life of “a man about

town," in all except the fouler and grosser vices, to which, I believe, he was never addicted.

His money flew about in all directions. He never went to the establishment in Street, but his overnight's I.O.U.'s stared him in the face the next morning like reproachful fiends!—and he was daily accumulating bills at the fashionable tradesmen's, to whom he gave higher prices, to ensure longer credit. While he was compelled to write down confidentially to old Pritchard, his agent, for money, almost every third or fourth post, his correspondence with his mother and cousin gradually slackened, and his letters, short as they were, indicated effort and constraint on the part of the writer. It was long, very long, before Mrs Beauchamp suspected that any thing was going wrong. She was completely cajoled by her son's accounts of the complicated and harassing affairs in Chancery, and considered that circumstance fully to account for the brevity and infrequency of his letters. The quicker eyes of Ellen, however, soon saw, in the chilling shortness and formality of his letters to her, that even if his regard for her, personally, were not diminishing, he had discovered such pleasurable objects in town, as enabled him to bear, with great fortitude, the pangs of absence!

Gaming exerts a deadening influence upon all the faculties of the soul that are not immediately occupied in its dreadful service. The heart it utterly withers; and it was not long, therefore, before Beauchamp was fully aware of the altered state of his feelings towards his cousin, and satisfied with them. Playplay-PLAY, was the name of his new and tyrannical mistress! Need I utter such commonplaces as to say, that the more Beauchamp played, the more he lost; that the more he lost, the deeper he played; and that the less chance there was, the more reckless he became? I cannot dwell on this dreary portion of my narrative. It is sufficient to inform the reader that, employed in the way I have mentioned, Beauchamp protracted his stay in London to five months. During this time he had actually gambled away THREE-FOURTHS of his whole fortune. He was now both ashamed and afraid of returning home. Letters from his poor mother and Ellen accumulated upon him, and often lay for weeks unanswered. Mrs Beauchamp had once remon

strated with him on his allowing any of his affairs to keep him so long in town, under the peculiar circumstances in which he was placed with respect to Ellen; but she received such a tart reply from her son, as effectually prevented her future interference. She began to grow very uneasy, and to suspect that something or other unfortunate had happened to her son. Her fears hurried her into a disregard of his menaces; and at length she wrote up privately to Mr Twister, to know what was the state of affairs, and what kept Mr Beauchamp so harassingly employed. The poor old lady received for answer, that the attorney knew of nothing that need have detained Mr Beauchamp in town beyond a week; and that he had not been to Mr Twister's office for several months!

Pritchard, Mr Beauchamp's agent, was a quiet and faithful fellow, and managed all his master's concerns with the utmost punctuality and secrecy. He had been elevated from the rank of a common servant in the family to his present office, which he had filled for thirty years with unspotted credit. He had been a great favourite with old Mr Beauchamp, who committed him to the kindness of Mrs Beauchamp, and requested her to continue him in his office till his son arrived at his majority. The good old man was therefore thoroughly identified with the family interests; and it was natural that he should feel both disquietude and alarm at the demands for money, unprecedented in respect of amount and frequency, made by Mr Beauchamp during his stay in town. He was kept in profound darkness as to the destination of the money, and confounded at having to forward up to London the title-deeds and papers relating to most of the property. "What can my young squire be driving at ?" said Pritchard to himself; and, as he could devise no satisfactory answer, he began to fume and fret, and to indulge in melancholy speculations. He surmised that "all was not going on right at London;" for he was too much a man of business to be cajoled by the flimsy reasons assigned by Mr Beauchamp for requiring the estate papers. He began to suspect that his young master was "taking to bad courses;" but being enjoined silence at his peril, he held his tongue, and, shrugging his shoulders, "hoped the best." He longed every day to make, or

find an opportunity for communicating with his old mistress; yet how could he break his master's confidence, and risk the threatened penalty! He received, however, a letter one morning which decided him. The fearful contents were as follows:

"Dear and faithful old Pritchard,-There are now only two ways in which you can show your regard for me-profound secrecy, and immediate attention to my directions. I have been engaged for some time in extensive speculations in London, and have been dreadfully unfortunate. I must have fifteen, or, at the very lowest, ten thousand pounds by this day week, or be ruined; and I purpose raising that sum by a mortgage on my property in -shire. I can see no other possible way of meeting my engagements, without compromising the character of our family—the honour of my name. Let me, therefore, have all the needful papers in time-in two days' time at the latest. Dear old man!-for the love of God, and the respect you bear my father's memory, keep all this to yourself, or consequences may follow which I tremble to think of!-I am, &c. &c.

64 Hotel, 4 o'clock, 4.M."

" HENRY BEAUCHAMP.

This letter was written with evident hurry and trepidation; but not with more than its perusal occasioned the affrighted steward. He dropped it from his hands, elevated them and his eyes towards heaven, and turned deadly pale. He trembled from head to foot; and the only words he uttered were, in a low moaning tone, "Oh, my poor old master! Wouldn't it raise your bones out of the grave?"-Could he any longer delay telling his mistress of the dreadful pass things were come to?

After an hour or two spent in terror and tears, he resolved, come what might, to set off for the Hall, seek an interview with Mrs Beauchamp, and disclose every thing. He had scarcely got halfway, when he was met by one of the Hall servants, who stopped him, saying "Oh, Mr Steward, I was coming down for you. Mistress is in a way this morning, and wants to see

you directly."

The old man hardly heard him out, and hurried on as fast as