From Frasier's Magazine. THE WOUNDED SPIRIT.

 

 CHAPTER XII. "Hc came not to her fathers halls With hundred squires in train, But all he brought wassa true heart And a name without stain ,,
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 But all he brought Wassa true heart

 And name without stain."

 MARY HowtTr.

 AFTER the loss of my beloved sister, Ire turned once more to my rural retirement, near Dorlling, with a silent determination to estrange myself from the hustle of life, and live like d recIuse. The deepest-lormed schemes of man, however, often fail, from circumstances over which he is, apparanlly, incapable of exefting contoi. At first had my hours entirely to myself,-i read and walked, and meditated; day was the counter part of day; and month succeeded month i'll a sort of sssimilitude n dissimiitude. .7o- fhanks, however, to the generostYoi human nature, and the kiHdnessaof my neigh6ors, the solitude of the recluse began to be bro- ken in upon by friendly offices, and calls. The only family that succeeded in really forcing me by their kindness to the nonrsh- ment of reciprocal! sentiment, was that of the Austens. of Austen Park, family of the first rank in consideration, both with regard to ehafa fer and fortune.

 In the delightful society of this family, was again restored to susceptibility to the pleasures of life. Around 1t there was the all=soothine calm of aAeclionaie interest, a reciprocity of fe.lBg among its members which knit them 10 each otheg From this mutualty of feeling l WAS netexcuded, and ofien did my heart silently overflow with gratitude to those, who seemed to have taken spontaneous regald for one, whom Providence had left out of the pale of do- nestle endcarmenta.

 In this family resided cousin of tho Aus tens, Mir. Bonnet, who was waiting fer an Indian cadetshlp. Having, like myself, but liale business on hand, CUT evenings were almost alternately shared with each other, and a particular intimacy was the conse- quence. He was a warnl-heaFted fine fellow, and never think Of him, even yet, although many years have elapsed since l have lea3n ed any tdings of his fate, without glow of ai!eetionae interest Alr. Curtis, the pro- pfefor of the adjoining estate. was also on terms of mostiamliaT footnea al Austen Park. He was a tall handsome, and good-looking fellow, who had about a year before return cd from Oxford to his family possessions. His university education had not spoiled his love of rural sports; and with the polish of the gentleman was sometimes ming led the roughness Of the county squire.

 Mir Curlis's father and old AIr. Austen had been school associates, and the former dying while his son was yet boy, his cid friend was appointed the family guardian. l had heard il said that Miss Austen was destined for his future wife, but frommF own obsefHa- tions 1 was led to regard this as mere hear say. Indeed, had my opinion of the matter been asked, l should haveat once said, that, dd any partlality exist, il was lorher cousin Bonnet, who was much more miIdin his man. ners, and without being regarded as cynical, I may add much mofeercHmspect Ill hls conversation and conduct With old Mr. Austen, however, Curtis wasan especial iayourite Ia his youth he hadbeen deyo- tedly fond of the same amUsemehts, and he listened to the exploits of the yonhg follower of Nimrod, with peculiar satlsiac- ton, nor from fears of losinga future son-in- law did he ever enter any caveat against hls attempting a fiye-bar gate. In his eye the bluntness of Curtis was honesty; he regas- ded him as one who was really better than he cared to be taken for, and, like the almond, as hiding a sweet kernel within a rough she'll

 One morning Bonnet walked over to iH- form me that his cadeship had at length ar rived; but from the gravity of his manner l saw that he had something more to inform me of than that l told him to 'sont With It, and found, as suspected, that he was pas sionateIy attached to his fair cousin. With the opennass aud honor which character ized all his proceedings, he at the same time confessed to me that he was but soldier ot fortune, and that his future success ln lie must depend solely on his own ezeftlons. ..J have some reason to thnk,' he added, sthat am at least not disagreeabie to my cousin, but years must elapse before can be in condition in which might reasonably make proposals to her family, and as to any engagement in my present circumstances, l cannot hoaorably think of such thlng.o

 After commenting tine purity ot his lnten- tions, hinted to him my suspicious o some attachment on the part of Curtis to Miss Austen, thing which, strange to say, had never once struck him A new light seemed instantly to dawn in upon him, and While observed cloud come over his countenanee, 1 saw and felt from his manner that the hap piness of the woman he loved, was the para mount object of importance in his regard. He was to leave Austen Park during the follow ing week, and before we parted, he had la- ken the resolution of coming to an eXPiana- ton with Curtis himself on this important and delicate subject

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