These observations were scarcely concluded when Jane entered the room, and as usual, cast a calm but searching glance around her.  She saw that they had been in tears, and that they tried in vain to force their faces I into a hurried composure, that seemed strangely at variance with what they felt.

After a slight pause she sat down, and putting her hand to her temple, mused for some minutes.  They observed that a sorrow more deep and settled than usual, was expressed on her countenance.  Her eyes were filled, although tears did not come, and the muscles of her lips quivered excessively; yet she did not speak; and such was the solemnity of the moment to them, who knew all, that none of them could find voice sufficiently firm to address her.

“Papa,” said she, at length, “this has been a day of busy thought with me.  I think I see, and I am sure I feel my own situation.  The only danger is, that I may feel it too much.  I fear I have felt it—­(she put her hand to her forehead as she spoke)—­I fear I have felt it too deeply already.  Pauses—­lapses, or perhaps want of memory for a certain space, occasioned by--by------” she hesitated.  “Bear with me, papa, and mamma; bear with me; for this is a great effort; let me recollect myself, and do not question me or--speak to me until I------.  It is, it is woeful to see me reduced to this; but nothing is seriously wrong with me yet—­nothing.  Let me see; yes, yes, papa, here it is.  Let us not be reduced to the miserable necessity of watching each other, as we have been.  Let me know the worst.  You have nearly broken me down by suspense.  Let me know the purport of the letter you received to-day.”

“To-day, love!” exclaimed her mother.  “Yes, mamma, to-day.  I made John show it me on his way from the post-office.  The superscription was Mr. Osborne’s hand.  Let me, O let me,” she exclaimed, dropping down upon her knees, “as you value my happiness here and hereafter, let me at once know the worst—­the very worst.  Am I not the daughter of a pious minister of the Gospel, and do you think I shall or can forget the instructions I received from his lips?  Treat me as a rational being, if you wish me to remain rational.  But O, as you love my happiness here, and my soul’s salvation, do not, papa, do not, mamma, do not, Maria, do not, Agnes, William,—­do not one or all of you keep your unhappy sister hanging in the agony of suspense!  It will kill me!—­it will kill me!”

Suppressed sobs there were, which no firmness could restrain.  But in a few moments those precepts of the Christian pastor, which we have before mentioned, came forth among this sorrowing family, in the same elevated spirit which dictated them.  When Jane had concluded this appeal to her father, there was a dead, silence in the room, and every eye glanced from, him to her, full of uncertainty as to what course of conduct he would pursue.  He turned his eyes upwards for a few moments, and said: