I 4* . • VMISS ELLIS’S SECRETI.As I made my bow tor the hrst tiros, I thought of Solicitor Heavitree’e prediction, and smiled inwardly. So this was Circe. The old lawyer must have been doting to think that I, tor all my twenty-five years experience, should be ao wiser than a sehool-boy who loves his country cousinjust for something to love.Imprimis—she was not pretty—scarcer^beautiful. Her look was despondent and demure; her mouth compressed; her hair was pale, as everything about her, and lay on her temples without wave or wrinkle. She was dressed in gray ; and the quaint antique cut of her costume was in keeping with the painful precocity of her gravity. A glunce took in these particulars. The miser was watching me attentively,