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“Only a few old and much esteemed friends, that we invited to meet a gentleman who was passing through the city, whose father and Mr. Allender are old acquaintances.”

“The Hon. Mr. Erskine, you mean,” said Mrs. Minturn, whose vanity led her to betray herself still more.

Yes. Have you met him?”

“Oh, yes,” was replied with animation. “We were very intimate at Washington. He showed Emeline very particular attentions.”

“Ah! I was not aware that you knew him.”

“Intimately. He called to see us yesterday, on the eve of his departure for New York.”

“Oh, mother!” exclaimed Emeline, as soon as they had stepped beyond the street-door, on leaving the house of Mrs. Allender, “why did you say any thing at all about Mr. Erskine, and especially after blundering so in the matter of apology? She’ll see through it all, as clear as daylight. And won’t we look beautiful in her eyes? I’m mortified to death!”

“I don’t know what came over me,” returned the mother, with evident chagrin. “To think that I should have been so beside myself!”

So much mortified were both the mother and daughter, on reflection, that they could not venture to call again upon Mrs. Allender and Clara, who did not return the last visit. And the intimacy from that time was broken off.

The next winter came round, and the Minturns repaired again to Washington. Emeline had hoped to receive a letter from Mr. Erskine, whom she half believed to be in love with her; but no such desired communication came. But she would meet him at the Capitol; and to that time of meeting she looked forward with feelings of the liveliest interest. On arriving in Washington, at the opening of the session, she repaired, on the first day, to the Capitol. But much to her disappointment, a certain member from New York was not in his place.

“Where is Mr. Erskine,” she asked of his colleague, whom she met in the evening.

“Has not arrived yet,” was replied. “Will probably be along to-morrow. or next day. He stopped in your city as he came along; and I shrewdly suspect that he had in contemplation a very desperate act.”

“Indeed! What was that?” returned Emeline, endeavouring to appear unconcerned.

“Taking to himself a wife.”

“You surprise me,” said the young lady. “Who is the bride?”

“I don’t know. He said nothing to me on that subject. Others, who appear to be in the secret, aver that his detention is occasioned by the cause I have alleged.”

It required a strong effort on the part of Miss Minturn to keep from betraying the painful shock her feelings had sustained. She changed the subject as quickly as possible.

On the next day, it was whispered about that Mr. Erskine had arrived in company with his newly-made bride.

“Who is she?” asked both Mrs. Minturn and her daughter; but no one to whom they applied happened to know. Those who had seen her pronounced her very beautiful. Two days passed, and then a bridal party was given, to which Mrs. Minturn and Emeline were invited. They had been sitting in the midst of a large company for about ten minutes, their hearts in a flutter of anticipation, when there was a slight movement at the door, and then Mr. Erskine entered with his bride upon his arm. One glance sufficed for Mrs. Minturn and her daughter–it was Clara! While others were pressing forward to greet the lovely bride, they, overcome with disappointment, and oppressed by mortification, retired from the room, and, ordering their carriage, left the house unobserved.

Up to this day, they have never sought to renew the acquaintance.