yours in some particulars, but does not resemble it more than it resembles many other hands. The presumption from this alone would be very slight. From whom did you receive that paper, Miss Newlove?"

"It was brought to me by a person, who required my promise never to mention from whom it came. ""

"Indeed! and was not this a sufficiently suspicious circumstance to put you on your guard against a share ?"

"I had, in truth, some doubt, sir; but there did not seem any very great risk, and I knew how much pain you must suffer, so long as you continued bound to our fortunes."

"Pain-suffering!" interrupted Somers, suddenly; "who told you I was in such terrible distress ?"

"We knew nothing more, sir," replied Emma, in a timid tone, "than your own words and manner declared."

"Ah, that's it is it? So I appeared all the while very cold and remiss and inattentive to your interests; and on your part, consequently, you were anxious to get rid of me."

"Mr. Somers, you know that we were not. So far from entertaining any sentiment of this kind, it cost us a most severe effort to adopt the measures we did. How far from our minds was the thought that that letter could possibly prove a cause of offence. Believe me, Mr. Somers, it would have been a great relief to us to have felt absolved from the duty of writing it."

"I thought as much. But tell me, did this mysterious visitor allude to Mallefax by name, and recommend your application to him in preference to any one else?"

"No; I do not think he did."

"As to Mallefax himself, then-when the paper was communicated to him, did he scrutinize it suspiciously, or did it meet his ready approval ?"

"He at once appeared convinced of its genuineness."

"Now, let me know who the man was." "That question, Mr. Somers, I may not

answer."

"The name may not be mentioned to others, if you think proper," replied the lawyer, "but to me it must be told. A pretty thing it would be if any secrets were to be kept from an advocate. The whole affair depends on my having correct and definite information."

"Do you suspect, Mr. Somers, that I do not tell you because I am myself the author of the paper? Does my innocence stand in such need of confirmation ?"

Emma's words were uttered low and plaintively. In quite a different key, Somers rejoined" Pshaw! pshaw!-My opinion is nothing to the purpose. The thing really to be considered is, how to make you stand fair in the sight of others. So give me an answer to my question." "I cannot, sir."

"I am willing to promise, on my honor, to reveal what you tell me to no one else."

"I have every confidence in your honor, Mr. Somers; and if it were my secret I would trust it to you without hesitation. But I have engaged to keep the name locked within my own breast."

genuine ?"

"He said "

"He!-it was a man then? A South

erner ?"

"Yet the fellow who gave it to you has

"It is possible he has," said Emma. "In that case, then, you surely are not bound to keep faith to him. Between the requirements of self-defence on the one

What was it he said, then?"

"I cannot repeat the words; but he spoke in a way to induce me to infer that the paper was genuine. He added, however, that it would be well to take advice on this point, and to act accordingly." "And did you consult any body?" 66 Yes, sir-Mr. Mallefax "

"Still, sir, I do not feel at liberty to tell you who gave me the survey."

"Liberty!" repeated Somers; "there's no liberty about it.-It is a case of neces sity. Don't you see that no jury in the world will decide for a cause, in support of which they believe forgery to have been

resorted to? And is a blasted reputation not to be considered? Is your father's peace of mind nothing? Good heavens! Miss Newlove, think of it. The loss of your property here is the smallest part of the matter. To be a subject all your life for gossiping scandal-mongers--to meet open scorn wherever you go, for rely upon it, the stigma will be recognized though you should seek obscurity in the uttermost State of the Union!-to be taunted by the vile-to be loathed and shunned by the righteous to have the ordinary incidents of your life ingeniously distorted and blackened, and printed in scurvy pamphlets to be hawked over the country, under the title of 'Adventures of the Great Female Forger!'-Miss Newlove, death itself were not worse than such a life as this !"

"No, no," answered Emma; "it were far better to die than to endure the fate you describe."

"Give me, then, the information that will enable me to save you from it."

Emma shook her head sorrowfully. "Whatever you may think of me, sir, in consequence of my silence, I cannot tell you that."

Somers, disappointed, turned his head away abruptly. Emma, mistaking the meaning of the gesture, was unable to restrain her tears, and said: 66 So you will forsake me, then ?"

"Never!" exclaimed the lawyer, with fervor.

As much surprised as gratified by his tone, she looked up quickly. "And notwithstanding appearances, you believe me innocent?"

"Assuredly-how is it possible for me to doubt it ?"

"Still you talk of the universal contumely which I am to expect henceforward. I thought from that

"What did you think?" said Somers, relaxing his countenance from the stern expression which had so much affected his client.

"I thought," replied Emma, hesitating, "that is, it seemed natural to suppose that you could not speak with such severity, unless you at least suspected me of having done something very wicked."

Somers laughed gaily at the answer. "You must learn," he said, "that a lawyer does not carry his mind on the end

of his tongue. Why, I would talk to you in that strain from morning till night-I would proceed with increasing vehemence to scold and upbraid and taunt-I would scowl more savagely than ever wolf did upon lamb, if I thought there was any possibility of frightening you into a communicative disposition. But as I have failed, distress yourself no longer with reflecting upon the world's opinion; we will yet make it recant its judgment. Yes, though you refuse to give me the means of convicting the real forger, I shall still manage to show how absurd and unjust it is to suspect you of the crime There now; you pardon me for the agitation I have causeddo you not?"

"Yet," returned Emma, with grave and earnest simplicity, "if it be true that a lawyer does not speak from the heart, how can I know that you are not practising upon my credulity now? However confidently you speak, perhaps doubts, after all, possess your mind."

ers.

"I will answer you frankly," said Som"Your conjecture is not altogether wrong. It is true that I was not perfectly sincere in the cheering manner which I used just now. you injustice. If you wish it, I will not in future disguise a single doubt which I entertain.

But I think I have done

Somers paused and scrutinized her steadily. He saw how her whole slight frame trembled, and how deadly pale her cheek had become; but he read undaunted firmness in her tightly compressed lips and in her bright, dilated eye.

The words which came from her were such as he expected: "I can bear anything but deceit."

"Hear then," said Somers, "all my doubts. I am not certain that you may not lose this land to which you have an equitable and a legal title ;-I am not certain that you will ever escape from the reproach which powerful enemies are endea voring to fasten on you;-I am not certain that an excited populace will refrain from visiting you with open and violent indignity."

Somers stopped. Emma replied in a low voice, "Have you finished? I am prepared to endure all this.”

No. I have something more to say. I have told you my apprehensions, I must

tell you now of what I am certain. I am certain that you have the support of pure, unspotted, conscious innocencé. I am certain, also, that you have one friend who is equally bound by admiration of your character, and by gratitude, to devote to your service all the poor faculties that God has given him."

Emma was almost overcome. The strong emotion which at that moment swelled her bosom, revealed to her what she had never before suspected, that Somers was something more to her than an intelligent friend and upright advocate. Fortunately, she was alone in the discovery. Somers was no coxcomb, and did not imagine that every fair client whose interest he had succeeded in awakening was ready to throw her heart into his hand.

"I will tell you what I have done within the last few days," said Somers. "There was a scheme a-foot to have you indicted by the Grand-jury; I went to work and represented the glaring injustice of proceeding upon remote surmises, in such terms that the half-formed purpose was abandoned."

"But ought I to fear a trial?" replied Emma, "I am not guilty."

"I know it, and so does Astiville probably know it, and he could have no expectation that the prosecution would be terminated by conviction; but a true bill found by a Grand-jury would confirm existing prejudices, and give opportunity for effecting his other plans. Then you yourself would be annoyed by the publicity and the numberless other vexatious circumstances of a trial, whilst the acquittal when at length it came, would not remove the reproachful suspicions which make your present state so painful."

"I understand the case now," returned Emma, "and am able to appreciate the service you have rendered me. May I ask your opinion respecting the measure which this deed you have brought is designed to effect? Do I well to buy out Schrowder?"

"Well;" answered Somers, "very

well. I am not sure that I should have ventured to suggest the move, as the consequence of it is to put in jeopardy nine thousand dollars more; but since you have determined on it of your own accord, I am at liberty to say that you have done just what I should feel like doing, if I were in your place; and I do not believe that spirited conduct is always injudicious conduct. In this case, we will get rid of Schrowder, the most tormenting encumbrance that ever suit was oppressed with. As soon as the matter is concluded, I will give the fellow a hint that his safety will be best consulted by an immediate departure from the county, and as his cowardice at least equals his selfishness, there is little danger of his remaining. After that, if we can only secure a few months of quiet, the present commotion will die a natural death, and we may hope for a fair trial and a prosperous issue."

"Ah, but," said Emma, "I must not allow you to sacrifice yourself a second time in our cause. Your friends have become reconciled, and Heaven forbid, that we should be instrumental in drawing upon you their renewed displeasure."

Somers replied immediately, "Though my friends should forget reason, I must not forget duty. No-let any consequences come that may-I will give up friendship and the Everlyns-yes, I will give up every one of them, sooner than leave you a prey to the shameful conspiracy which has been formed against you!"

"Yet indeed, sir," urged Emma, "I do not wish to take advantage of your generosity."

"It is useless to talk of it," exclaimed Somers, "I am not at all generous; so spare any self-reproach. How could I ever enjoy a moment's peace hereafter, if I carried with me the consciousness of having broken the most sacred duty of my profession? A lawyer is not exactly a knighterrant, yet is he a recreant knave if he refuse to strengthen the weak and succor the oppressed.

SOMERS had good reason to apprehend unpleasant consequences from his re-engagement with the New Yorkers. Mr. Everlyn, frank, open, direct, never had patience to view an object from more than one side. His notion of friendship agreed with the character of his mind. By the term he understood a complete identity of taste as far as possible-of sentiment, with no reservation at all. A common friend to two enemies seemed to him as absurd a figment of imagination as a quantity equal respectively to two quantities unequal to each other. Yet was he not dogmatic and self-important. He did not require the whole sacrifice to be made by his friend; but, in order to secure the proper sympathetic conformity, would often relinquish his own strong prepossessions. The circumstances of the case were to decide from which party the compliance should proceed. In the present instance, he was under a necessity to oppose the Newloves. It might be that Somers felt himself under a similar necessity to support them. Everlyn would not quarrel with him for the choice, but only came to the conclusion that the intimacy was sundered. What had given rise to the incompatibility-whether irresistible fate or fickleness on Somers' part-made no difference whatever.

Sidney thought still more hardly of her lover. That he should go and league himself with the adversary at a time when, as he himself had owned, he was fettered by no obligation, was conduct so strange that she was compelled to attribute it to some secret and very powerful motive, What that motive was, she was not long in conjecturing. Had not Somers himself betrayed the warm and peculiar interest he felt in Emma Newlove? Yet if he were indeed thus deeply attached to that young lady, why did he seem to struggle against the circumstances which at once justified and favored his new suit? Why did he still profess undiminished affection for her

self? Suspicion and jealousy, however, are seldom at fault. Mr. Everlyn now enjoyed a moderate fortune; should Everstone be lost, he would be reduced to poverty, and his daughter would become portionless. Miss Newlove was rich; Lawyers are all mercenary; it was difficult for Sidney to contemplate the inference which appeared a legitimate deduction from these facts. The hypothesis admitted of a variation. Perhaps Somers had a sincere liking for the Yankee maiden, apart from the consideration of golden charms: perhaps, also, there remained in his breast something of the love she herself had excited: it might be that, hesitating between these opposite attractions, he had thought to decide the doubt by yielding up his whole heart to her to whom the fortune of Law should give the broad estate. This conjecture, which seemed the most probable, was likewise the most offensive. To think that Somers throughout the lawsuit should be complacently occupied in keeping warm the two hearts, each of which he desired to have in a suitable state for his acceptance when the day of final choice should come-how abominable and shocking! Like the epicure who is fattening two fowls of the anserine genus in separate coops for a birthday entertainment; he does not expect to eat them both, oh nonature is unequal to the consumption of two such luscious tid-bits at a single mealbut he is yet uncertain which will prove possessor of the largest liver, and his fastidious palate craves the best. And was Sidney Everlyn to be one of those geese? was her honest affection thus to be practiced upon? What was Richard Somers, that he should select her as a fit object for his selfish management? The offspring of obscurity and poverty, who ought to be grateful for the slightest notice received from those who could trace back their ancestry to the days of King Arthur.

Sidney's beauty, like all other human beauty, owed its radiance to pride-not