CHAPTER XXIII.

THUS separated from his friends, Lefevre passed two days almost in solitude. Those who had been most associated with him in folly, seemed to forget his very existence. Wallis had been content to send a servant to inquire after his health; and his uncle satisfied himself, with procuring the best advice, and ordering the best nourishment for him. This was truly as much as might be expected from such a person. He was a merry fellow and a bon vivant; how could he bear to be confined with the sick? Besides, he had the same antipathy to a sick-chamber, as he had to all methodism; and very possibly it sprang from the same causes.

Lefevre's religious friends would still have supplied the deficiencies of his worldly connections; but their efforts were unavailing. Mrs. Russell had called, and was not asked to see him. Douglas had been,

but was assured he was asleep; and Lefevre remained without any knowledge of their kindness. His bodily health, however, was improving. A right application of medicine had brought rest to his exhausted frame; and rest was succeeded by a considerable diminution of fever. The consequences might have been most happy, had a judicious christian friend been at hand, to divert his attention from himself, and occasionally present to him "the hope of the gospel." As it was, his thoughts preyed upon themselves. He pronounced the name of Douglas-but it was when there was none to hear. From a wish to withhold his wretchedness from the cold curiosity of unsympathizing attendants, it accumulated upon him; and he was sinking sensibly, from the violent expression of it, into soul-consuming melancholy.

The afternoon of the third day, however, brought his mother to town as his comforter. She had received a hastily written letter, stating generally, that her son was dangerously ill, without any explanatory detail. Here was room for ima

gination to work; and Mrs. Lefevre's had wrought upon her to agony, before she reached the end of her journey. How did her maternal bosom swell as the hackney carriage, which bore her from the inn to her brother's, stopt at his door! Without dismissing it, she sprang into the bar-parlour, and exclaimed-" Is he alive?"-and then sank into a chair, trembling to hear the answer to a question she was so eager to propose.

"Don't be uneasy," said the brother, taking her hand, and supporting her, is alive!"

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rically.

more.

Oh! Thank God!" she cried, hyste

She could ask nor hear any Her feelings had all flowed some hours in one direction; they were now suddenly thrown back into an opposite one. The change was too violent-she fainted under it.

The application of the common means soon restored Mrs. Lefevre from her swoon. With her first thought returned the name of her son. "He is alive!"-How is he?". said she.

"O, yes," returned the brother, "he's alive and doing well. He's been doing well enough since I took him in hand. Poor fellow!-he was as mad as a March hare, when I found him tormented by those canting, psalm-singing methodistsNot half so bad, now-He'll soon be right again, I'll warrant."

"Thank God!" exclaimed the grateful mother, springing from her seat. me see him?”

"Let

"Follow me," said the straight-forward brother, and immediately he led the way to the staircase.

It had been well if, in Lefevre's weak state, they had thought of apprizing him of his mother's arrival, prior to the interview; but the uncle, in the eagerness to show off his recovering nephew, and the mother, in her impatience to embrace her beloved son, forgot what was due to his tender system. It did not matter. With high, but with varying emotions, they entered the roomLefevre was not there!

Mr. Perry stood like a statue one minute; the next he exclaimed, "Bless

me!" in a tone of confusion and astonishment.

"Mr. Perry! what do you mean?" cried Mrs. Lefevre, coloring with anger. She knew he loved a trick, and the thought shot through her mind, that he was now resolved to have sport, when he ought to exercise compassion.

This challenge to an explanation confounded him still more. "What do I mean?" said he "What do I mean? Rabbet me! if I know what I mean-It's 'mazing odd!" looking round the room as he spoke.

"Mr. Perry," she resumed, "you know where Charles is! Where is he? I must not be trifled with!"

"This is strange enough!" he cried. "Where is he? that's what I want to know. Upon my honor I don't know where he is."

Mrs. Lefevre's eye dwelt on his face as he uttered this. She felt he spoke seriously. In her turn, she stood motionless, under the arrest of new and uncertain apprehension; and then ran from the chamber to other parts of the house,