the same spot we had left her, a statue of misery and despair,--"like
Niobe all tears."

Astonishment occupied the minds of all our friends on our return to
college. The change which took place on our feelings and conduct was
indeed amazing; our mornings were devoted to gazing on a lock of
our--she was rather unfortunate in a name--our Grizel's hair, and to
lonely hours of musing in the meadow on all the adventures of our
sojourn in Devonshire. No longer we stood listlessly in the quadrangle,
joining the knots of idlers, of whom we used to be one of the chief;
no longer had even Castles' Havannahs any charms for our lips; and our
whole heart was wrapt up in the expectation of a letter. This we were
not to receive for three long weeks; and by that time she was to have
returned home, consulted her father on the subject of our attachment,
and return us a definitive reply. We wrote in the meantime--such a
letter! We are assured it must have been written on a sheet of asbestos,
or it must infallibly have taken fire. It began, "Lovely and most
beautiful Grizel!" and ended, "Your adorer." At last the letter that was
to conclude all our hopes was put into our hands. We had some men that
morning to breakfast; we received it just as they were beginning the
third pie. How heartily we prayed they would he off and leave us
alone! But no--on they kept swallowing pigeon after pigeon, and seemed
to consider themselves as completely fixtures as the grate or the
chimney-piece. We wished devoutly to see a bone sticking in the throat
of our most intimate friend, and, by way of getting quit of them, had
thoughts of setting fire to the room. At last, however, they departed.
Immediately as the skirt of the last one's coat disappeared, we
carefully locked and bolted our door, and, with hands trembling with
joy, we took out the letter. Not very clean was its appearance, and not
over correct or well-spelt was its address; and, above all, a yellow,