opinion. However, if you are determined to cut each others' throats,
perhaps one pretext is as good as another, and a dozen better than only
one."

In the quiet recess of a window, shadowed by the crimson curtains, sat a
fair young girl, and a man, young and handsome, but upon whose
countenance the traces of dissipation and of passion were deeply marked.
Miranda Ayleff was a Virginian, the cousin and quondam playmate of
Oriana Weems, like her an orphan, and a ward of Beverly. Her companion
was Philip Searle. She had known him in Richmond, and had become much
attached to him, but his habits and character were such, that her
friends, and Beverly chiefly, had earnestly discouraged their intimacy.
Philip left for the North, and Miranda, who at the date of our story was
the guest of Mrs. Pursely, her relative, met him in New York, after a
separation of two years. Philip, who, in spite of his evil ways, was
singularly handsome and agreeable in manners, found little difficulty in
fanning the old flame, and, upon the plea of old acquaintance, became a
frequent visitor upon Miranda at Mr. Pursely's mansion, where we now
find them, earnestly conversing, but in low tones, in the little
solitude of the great bay window.

"You reproach me with vices which your unkindness has helped to stain me
with. Driven from your presence, whom alone I cared to live for, what
marvel if I sought oblivion in the wine-cup and the dice-box? Give me
one chance, Miranda, to redeem myself. Let me call you wife, and you
will become my guardian angel, and save me from myself."

"You know that I love you, Philip," she replied, "and willingly would I
share your destiny, hoping to win you from evil. Go with me to Richmond.
We will speak with Beverly, who is kind and truly loves me. We will