The novels of Charles Brockden Brown, consisting of Wieland;or, The transformation. Arthur Mervyn; or, Memoirs of the year 1793. Edgar Huntly; or, Memoirs of a sleep-walker. Jane Talbot. Ormond; or, The secret witness. Clara Howard; or, The enthusiasm of love. With a memoir of the author.

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CLARA HOWARD; OR,

had been entirely satisfied, and that her motives for
leaving me had no connection with my deportment.
There was a necessity for going, though she could not
explain to me what it was. I ventured to ask where she
designed to go, but she avoided answering me for some
time; and, when I repeated the question, she said she
could not describe her new lodgings,-she knew not in
what spot she was destined to take up her rest,-and
* confessed that there were the most cogent reasons for her
silence on that head. I mentioned the coldness of the
weather, and her own ill health; but she answered that
no option had been left her, and that she must go, if it
were even necessary to carry her from her bed to the
carriage. All this, as you may well suppose, was strange;
and I renewed my questions and entreaties, but she gave
me no satisfaction, and persisted in her resolutions. Accordingly, on Thursday morning a chaise stopped at the
door, took her in, with a small trunk, and hastened away."
I was confounded and perplexed at this tale. No event
was less expected than this. No intimation had ever
been dropped by Mary, that created the least suspicion
of this design. She had left, as Mrs. Bordley proceeded
to inform me, all her furniture, without direction to whom
or in what manner to dispose of it, and yet had said that
she never designed to return. The gentleman with whom
she departed was unknown to Mrs. Bordley, and had
stopped so short a time as not to suffer her to obtain,
by remarks or interrogatories, any gratification of her
curiosity.
Having ineffectually put a score of questions to Mrs.
Bordley, I entered the deserted apartments. The keys
of closets and drawers nowhere appeared, though the
furniture was arranged as usual. Inquiring.of my
companion for these,"Ay,'" said she; "I had almost forgotten. The last
thing she said before the chaise left the door, holding out
a bunch of keys to me, was, 'Give these to-' There
her voice faltered, and I observed the tears flow. I received the keys, and, though she went away without ending
her sentence, I took for granted it was you she meant."
I eagerly seized the keys, and hoped, by their assist