HESTER ENTERS A NEW FIELD OF EMPLOYMENT.-THE AVOWAL

OF LOVE.

HESTER was alone in her room, pondering on past events. During the time she had been painting, nearly all the money previously saved by her had been expended. Ill success as an artist, and her late terrible misfortune, caused her inexpressible grief, and for the time crushed her spirit. Moreover, she began to doubt her ability to produce pictures sufficiently meritorious to command a sale, so as to be a source of remuneration. Fame she did not covet; the possession of the sum of money necessary to effect the liberation of her father being all her heart desired. Her brushes and her palette, then, were thrown aside; she would paint no more. In a word, Hester abandoned the idea of prosecuting an art which, circumstanced as she was, held out no hope.

A tap at her door disturbed the train of her thoughts, and the blind woman, Mrs. Flemming, crept into the room.

"I have heard of the great wickedness of some persons unknown," she began, "who have destroyed your painting; but I am not come to speak of that; I bring a message from my son.

"From Mr. Flemming?" said Hester, in a tone of surprise.

"If you would let him have the honour of stepping up for five minutes, he thinks he could inform you of something, or advise something, which might be to your advantage."

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him."

Certainly he may come, Mrs. Flemming. You will accompany

When the hunchback entered the room, with his slender spindle legs, long arms, and stooping head, the hunch being seen like a small hill behind it, the object he presented might be pitiable; yet, unlike some misshapen unfortunates or monsters, his appearance did not excite disgust or fear. Gazing only at his countenance, you were interested by its highly intellectual expression, while the quiet melancholy which softened every feature touched the heart. His thin face now glowed, and his eyes were lit up, but his limbs trembled; and, as he looked at Hester, the agitation he betrayed every moment increased.

The blind woman stood by the side of her son, proud of her offspring -the child of deformity, but of genius. Hester had only one chair; she drew it to Mrs. Flemming, and the latter seated herself.

Now, Mark, tell the lady what you think about the music."

The hunchback, being thus brought face to face with her he secretly adored, suffered some moments to elapse before he could summon courage to address her. At length he spoke:

"I am not ignorant, Miss Somerset, of the great design you cherish with respect to your father. Would we were able to assist you; but I can only offer my poor advice. I am told you play the piano, and that

you understand music well. Why, then, devote your time to the thankless, unprofitable employment of drawing?-an employment by which one gains a living and twenty starve."

"But I have no piano now; mine was sold with my father's furniture, and I have not sufficient money to buy another."

"No matter; obtain the few necessary music-books, and you can give lessons to young ladies in families supplied with instruments.”

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Yes," said the blind woman; "there is nothing easier or more common than for teachers to attend at the parents' houses. Much money may be made that way, depend on it."

Hester was thoughtful, but she did not long hesitate in expressing her opinion. Gifted with an ardent and hopeful spirit, she was one easily to be filled with bright dreams. In truth, Flemming's scheme seemed to her a very happy one, and she thanked him for his suggestions, and would immediately use her best endeavours to profit by his advice.

The next day an advertisement appeared in one of the morning papers, setting forth Hester's intention of teaching the rudiments of music in private families, her terms being unusually moderate. This appeal was not attended with much success. Two pupils, however, were gained; and the beauty of Hester, her gentle manners, and her fine natural talents, were soon appreciated. The parents of the two children she taught recommended her to others, and thus she progressed, the circle of her labours gradually enlarging, and her gains consequently increasing.

We see her, then, after her usual call at the Fleet Prison-for never yet had she passed one day without visiting her father-hurrying forth to the different houses where she gave music lessons. Her step was light, and her heart was happy. She pleased, for with her the art of pleasing was a natural, and not an acquired talent. Her pupils might be dull, but her patience triumphed over their stolidity; some of the mothers might be coarse and overbearing, but Hester's humility, and unvarying good-humour, disarmed and conciliated even them.

Three months from the commencement of this career, Hester, for the first time, proceeded to a certain old and substantial-looking house in the Strand-it was a savings bank. The indefatigable daughter of the imprisoned man deposited there, towards her great design, the sum of thirty pounds!

peace

of

But we must now relate an incident which much affected her mind, and subsequently led to a scene that well might terrify a young girl, alone and unprotected in the great world of London. Mark Flemming, the hunchback, heard of Hester's success, and rejoiced at it. The unfortunate and apparently hopeless passion which he had conceived for her, had by no means lessened in its intensity. Still his love was of the most timid and reserved description. His actions might have betrayed his secret, but his lips were mute. The hour, however, was coming which must decide his fate, for he felt it impossible to maintain silence much longer. He struggled day after day to imprison the whirlwind in his heart, until that heart was bursting.

Nature! with all thy cunning skill, and harmonious adaptation of part to part through creation's range, dost thou not sometimes commit melancholy errors? How else should we find a spirit like Flemming's imprisoned in such a body? His deformity was not the result of an accident, for so he had come into the world. Listless had Flemming

grown in prosecuting his musical studies; his violin, once so worshipped, his second self, was cast aside, or only played on when necessity compelled; his new passion usurped the place of all other affections of the

mind and heart.

The hunchback was standing in his room, being too restless and feverish to sit, for he had come to a resolution that day of addressing Hester. She was absent, giving one of her music lessons, but he expected her every minute. His mother was asleep in her accustomed corner, a circumstance which favoured his design. Flemming, anxious not to disturb her, crept to and fro on tiptoe. The poor young man had dressed himself for the occasion with great attention and care; his long locks had been combed, his linen changed, and his threadbare coat scrupulously brushed. What mad fancy entered his soul? what mocking demon whispered in his ear, that woman could love, could accept a being like him?

Flemming gazed from his window into the squalid street, but Hester was not to be seen. Oh! that she would hasten and relieve his suspense! for, having now formed his resolve, the torture of that uncertainty was terrible to endure. A quarter of an hour passed-a few minutes morestill his eyes were riveted on the pavement below. His restlessness and agitation increased. Suddenly he stepped back from the window; he perceived her at last. Hester was come.

She was sitting in her chair; her hat lay on the floor, and her shawl had fallen behind her; except this, her dress was not disarranged; but her hair, having escaped from its comb, fell in wavelike and glittering masses, rather than ringlets, down her shoulders. She looked inexpressibly beautiful, yet neither blushing timidity nor anger was apparent in her face; it bore only the stamp of sorrow. Her cheek was pale, and the long fringe of the lids, as her eyes were cast on the floor, sustained tears, which, one by one, fell into her lap. She did not move or speak, for the thoughts which oppressed her heart admitted not of utterance.

Flemming remained at a short distance: his attitude half stooping, half kneeling, betokened supplication. His thin hands were clasped before him; the colour on his usually ashy cheek fluctuated every moment; and his breathing was hard and hurried. His secret, then, had been revealed; he had declared his love for Hester-the passion which half paralysed his faculties, and daily and hourly consumed him. He felt by no means confident of success, yet, in spite of all he knew, in spite of the consciousness of the blight and curse fallen on his miserable body, the poor hunchback was not entirely without hope.

"You are alarmed-you shrink from me," said Flemming, stealing an ardent glance at Hester. "I am aware that to an ordinary woman I must be an object of contempt, perhaps of loathing; but the belief that you possess a high soul, endowed with genius, has emboldened me to address you. Oh! regard me not as I appear! Let our love be of the immortal spirit! let our union be an union of souls!"

Alas! Hester was still flesh and blood, and had not conquered the instincts of humanity. She had not become an idealist, capable of living out of matter, or soaring above it. Her hopes, her fears, her joys, were still associated with things of earth, and her whole nature was tremblingly alive to the beautiful.

"You do not speak?" pursued Flemming. "Perhaps you consider my station in life below your own; and it is, I am conscious of it, notwithstanding all the circumstances of distress which now surround you."

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No," answered Hester, softly. "What have I to do with pride? my father and myself cannot be reduced more low."

Flemming's eyes brightened, for he felt encouraged, and drawing a step nearer, he spoke rapidly, and with vehemence,

"If to watch around you, to obey your slightest command, to love you respectfully but ardently, to be a protector while a submissive slave, to join my efforts with your own in raising that money which shall set your father at liberty, to appreciate your high mental gifts as well as your beauty, to centre all my hopes, my joys, my life, in your own welfare and happiness, and to consider even fame and the world's applause second to your love,—if all this may entitle me to your attention, your regard, hear me! I beseech you, hear me!"

The arms of Flemming were raised imploringly, and, as he knelt on the floor, his head was thrown backward; his features at the moment looked strikingly fine, but behind was the disfiguring hump on the summit of his crooked back. Could the young fair flower, the bright-eyed Peri, the Psyche without her butterfly wings, be linked to a being like this? Our human feelings recoil at such an union. We overlook the soul which animates the formless clod. We cannot help our sensations; we obey but the laws of our nature.

Hester, who had long struggled to repress what she felt, spoke at length, but with mildness, carefully abstaining from every allusion that might pain the unfortunate man.

"I am very young, Mr. Flemming, very unprotected, and possess little experience of the world. Situated as I am, and labouring for my father, I cannot accept-it is utterly impossible for me to accept-that is, I mean I cannot listen to your proposals."

"Well, I may hope-some future time You do not decidedly reject me."

"It would be wrong in me to lead you astray. I feel it my duty to speak plainly. I admire your genius, your noble mind, and your filial affection in supporting your blind mother. I will esteem you as a friendas a brother

While she spoke these words, Flemming's agitation was pitiable to witness: his projecting breast heaved with rapid convulsions, his muscles worked, and over the swollen veins of his forehead spread a moisture which gradually gathered into beads.

"A friend-a brother!" he gasped.

"Go on!"

"But never can I regard you in any other light."

"Then I hear my fate! Heaven support me! the dream is over!" He moved back a few steps, and leaned on the table. As he stooped his head on his long arms his face was unseen. That attitude, although it gave more grotesqueness to his misshapen frame, indicated the last degree of suffering and prostration of soul.

Hester could not see him thus miserable and broken down without being sensibly affected. Her young heart bled, and the very fact of his hideous deformity operated as an appeal to her commiseration. Drawing her chair towards him, she placed him gently into it, for he yielded passively to her guidance.

"Mr Flemming," said Hester, in her low, silvery accents, "be calm. I am utterly unworthy of this regard-this grief. You must not be angry with me; I have said only what duty compels, and the respect I have for you renders necessary."

"Duty, respect!" said Flemming, bitterly; "these are words I would not have you utter; yet why should I find fault with them? Love, hopeless or happy, you have never known, and if it must bring torture like mine, may you ever be a stranger to it!"

Hester was silently meditating. Her absent manner betokened that her thoughts wandered away from the unhappy man before her, and the room in which she stood. Flemming observed her averted countenance and her thoughtfully-fixed eyes. He addressed her by her name, and she turned abruptly.

"You said I had never loved," whispered Hester, her voice quivering with emotion.

"Because one so young as you, so beautiful and pure as you, would never have met with a fitting object.' The hunchback suddenly raised his hands: "Dotard! presumptuous wretch that I am! and did Ï, in my madness, dream that I was a fitting' object? I, on whom rest the curse of Nature and the ban of God. Could a seraph of light like thee love a demon? a foul hideous thing whom a veil should enwrap, whom the earth should cover?"

A peal of laughter, the spirit's bitter mockery, rang through the room. Hester shuddered.

"But I will be calm, dear Miss Somerset; I will not distress you. I will bow to my destiny. I will endure my lot. But tell me, have you indeed met with one whom you can regard with those feelings you can never entertain for me?"

"Yes," said Hester, frankly; "and this, beyond any other circumstance, should explain why I cannot listen to the addresses of another; your upright mind must allow that falsehood is a black crime." "It is," observed Flemming, mournfully.

"From childhood I have been pledged to one who is now

"Do not hesitate. Think not in my misery I shall utter maledictions. will be, 'Heaven bless you and bless him!"

My prayer

"One who is now in a distant country—the East Indies.”

"A great officer, perhaps?"

"No; he is a poor lad, a peasant's son, self-taught-without money and without friends."

Flemming was eagerly attentive, but evidently surprised.

"As you cherish an intense love for music, so did he conceive a passion for military life."

"You hear from him frequently?"

"No; he is ignorant of the calamity that has befallen my father, and if he writes, his letters do not reach us now."

"Then he may have died of one of the diseases of the climate-he may have been killed in battle."

"God grant otherwise!" exclaimed Hester, her quiet, sorrowful face growing more pale.

"Or," suggested Flemming, "he may have altogether forsaken you." "That is probable, very probable," answered Hester, her eyes filling

with tears.