દ "In that case, I should not have allowed you a choice between my wardrobes," replied George. "How so?" asked Fred. "The appropriation of what did not belong to you, would have given you a clear title to an interest in the wardrobe I have used during the past two years, said George, his face wearing a faint smile, the first since he had learned of his pardon. "Good! Capital! George, I have a hope for you yet. One or two sallies like that will bring back George Melville I used to know. You dare not wear that solemn face when you meet Bell. She shall consign you to a hermitage, if you do; at all events, it shall not be wasted on her.” But Frederick soon saw that the iron had entered Melville's soul too deeply to be withdrawn suddenly. George essayed another smile, but its glimmering was short-lived, vanishing into the shade of intense thought, which Frederick did not again venture to interrupt until they had reached the room appropriated for Melville's use. Here Frederick succeeded better in his attempts to rally his friend's spirits. When George had again assumed the outward semblance of the gentleman, and began to appreciate better the value of the service performed in his behalf, by such devoted friends, a change of feeling was soon apparent to Frederick, who quickly read the real motive which produced it. He had found the key which assisted him in unlocking the source of Melville's unhappiness, thereby admitting light upon the dark shadows of his heart. "George," said Frederick. "What, Frederick?" replied Melville. "Do you know, I would not blot out the events of the past three years, even to bring back your old smiles?" "Why not?" said Melville, looking up with surprise. "Simply because I have something in here," said Frederick, striking his hand upon his breast, "which tells me that without the opportunity, you never would have learned to appreciate what true friendship can suffer." "You have suffered, Frederick-all of your family have suffered, and I” "Can now repay your friends," interrupted Frederick, "by acting out George Melville as he used to be, whether you feel like it or not." "That is true, my friend, but ". "No buts can be allowed, Mr. Melville," said Frederick, again interrupting, "for three good and sufficient reasons. Firstly, I have no time to hear them; secondly, I do not wish to hear them; and thirdly, and finally, and conclusively, and emphatically, I won't hear them. You can take your choice. Go back to prison upon a charge of ingratitude, or arouse yourself to an appreciation of plain common sense. I should have thought your barbers might have taken a little more hair from your head. Never mind, there is some comfort in the reflection, that this world is built on the self-sustaining and selfrenovating principle." "It is short!" said Melville, looking in the glass. "What is short?" said Frederick, as if he did not understand what Melville referred to. "Why, my hair," replied Melville. "Of course it's short. Same length of your gratitude." "Come, come, Fred; you have said enough on that tack. I shall not give you cause to complain any longer," said Melville, smiling now in real earnest. "No! won't you though? Let me see!" And Frederick, grasping Melville by the shoulders, and holding him at arm's length, examined his new ap parel from head to foot, with all the earnestness and importance of a brigade inspector on duty. “Well, sir, will it do?" said Mellville, amused at the inspection. "Yes, sir, better than if you had been measured. Now we will make an attack upon the drawingroom." And, without giving Melville an opportunity for thought, Frederick, taking his arm, opened the door, passed across a spacious hall, and entered a room at his right, just at the head of a short flight of stairs, on the second floor of the hotel. Melville's mother, sister, and cousin, Florence Melwood, Mrs. Mortimer, Bell Mortimer, Mrs. Edgemonte, Clara Griswold and Bess, formed the female portion of the company within. The gentlemen consisted of Mr. Melville, Mr. Mortimer, Mr. Edgemonte, Mr. Griswold, Chief M-1, Thomas Griswold, and William Hastings. "I must get out of this, Mr. Mortimer," said Chief M-1, a moment before Frederick Mortimer opened the door. "My orders, sir, are strict," replied Mr. Mortimer. "The door cannot be opened for egress." 'I shall appeal to the ladies, then," said the chief. "And I, sir, have thirty days in which to answer the appeal," said Mr. Mortimer. "The ladies are not in the capacity of a court of dernier resort, Mr. Mortimer. I appeal to them as the popular sovereigns of this company," said the chief. "The appeal, then, will not be allowed," said Mrs. Edgemonte. "You perceive, my good friend, I have the right on my side, for judgment has come in advance of a hearing. The case is so clear that argument is superfluous," said Mr. Mortimer. At this instant the door opened, and George Melville, accompanied by Frederick Mortimer, entered the room. His face had not lost the smile which Frederick Mortimer so skillfully excited. It produced a corresponding reflection from every one present. Such a reflex, acting upon the sentiment with which Frederick Mortimer had inspired him, brought back the real George Melville. It would have been difficult to analyze the happiness in that room, or institute a just comparison as to its degree of intensity. There was the mother's joy; the father's wounded pride restored, to mingle again with his love; the sister's petitions at the throne of heaven answered; the rewarded sympathy of active, energetic friendship; the modest consciousness of success in unravelling the villain's coil; the welcome trust of friendship, basking in the smile of gratitude; the joyous confidence of ripened affection-and now, these phases of the soul were sharpened to their keenest edge. The work had been laid out upon a mind tempered by the promptings of refinement and edu |