up, which at another time she would have despatched in twenty minutes, seemed to have no more tendency to a termination than such labours usually have in dreams. In the midst of her perplexities one of the children entered and said Mr. Lloyd wished to speak to her. She was on the point of sending him an excuse, for she felt an involuntary disinclination to meet his penetrating eye at this moment, when recollecting how much she owed to his constant, tender friendship, she subdued her reluctance, and obeyed his summons. When she entered the room, "I am come," said he, "Jane, to ask thee to walk with me. I am an idler and have nothing to do, and thou art so industrious thou hast time to do every thing. Come, get thy hat. It is 'treason against nature' sullenly to refuse to enjoy so beautiful a day as this." Jane made no reply. He saw she was agitated, and leading her gently to a chair, said, "I fear thou art not well, or, what is much worse, not happy."
Jane would have replied, "I am not;" but she checked the words, for she felt as if the sentiment they expressed, was a breach of fidelity to Erskine; and instead of them she said, hesitatingly, "I ought not to be perfectly happy till my best (I should say one of my best) friends knows and approves what I have done this morning."
"What hast thou done, Jane?" exclaimed Mr. Lloyd, anticipating from her extraordinary embarrassment and awkwardness the communication she
