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hope and, trust their intimacy will continue, for to say they are much alike in disposition, is paying a bad compliment to neither of them. Beg Jane not to lose sight of her, and for my sake, to watch over the situations in which she may be placed.” “Oh, that I will certainly do,” answered lady Jane. “But, Mr. Malden, there was a part of the letter you skipped; does Burton say any thing more about me?” “He does indeed,” replied the clergyman; “but I do not know whether your ladyship might like to hear it.” Lady Jane paused for a moment, as if irresolute, then said gaily—“Oh yes, let me hear; a woman's curiosity must be gratified.” “He says then,” answered Mr. Malden, “ that he is very uneasy about your ladyship, and asks me if I have met with a captain Malcolm in London.” “That is enough, that is enough,” said * - lady lady Jane, colouring deeply; “Burton's memory is very tenacious.” “In regard to those he loves, I believe it is,” answered Mr. Malden. “You are right, Mr. Malden,” answered the young lady, with a sigh; “I believe he does love me—we have always been like brother and sister. But now I must go really,” she added, looking at her watch. Mr. Malden handed her to the carriage. —“To Gray's,” cried the footman. The coachman drove on, and in a few minutes the gay vehicle that bore her drove up to the jeweller's door in Bond-street. There was a gentleman just going in. He turned round, and offered her his hand to assist her in alighting, and— “How extraordinary that we should meet here !” exclaimed at once lady Jane and captain Malcolm. But if they had considered a moment, they would not have thought it extraordinary at all, when lady Jane remembered that that the night before, at the Spanish ambassador's ball, she had told captain Malcolm, by the merest accident in the world, that she was going at three the next day to Gray's, to buy some pearls; and when captain Malcolm remembered that it was that very circumstance which put him in mind that he wanted a seal of a new fashion; and therefore there was nothing in the world more simple, and less extraordinary, than that they should meet at that very place at that very time.

- CHAPCHAPTER VIII.

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Whose was the hand that turned away
The perils of th’ infuriate fray,
And snatched her, breathless, from beneath
This wilderment of wreck and death,
She knew not; for a faintness came
Chill o'er her, and her sinking frame,
Amid the ruins of that hour,
Lay like a pale and scorched flower. Lalla Rookh.

The Apennines.

CHARLEs Melville, as we have before seen, left his companion, Mr. Wilmot, at a little town on the Bolognese frontier, at which place he purposed to rejoin him in about five days. To avoid the trouble of a carriage for so short a distance, Charles hired a horse and guide, to carry and conduct him across the mountains, or rather, the wild and hilly track which separates Bo

logna logna from the ancient territories of the grand duke. It was early in the morning when he set out; and though his horse was perhaps only to be equalled in the scale of depreciation by that on which was mounted his English servant, who accompanied him, the journey nevertheless promised to be a very pleasant one; the day was as lovely as Italy could boast, and the scene should have had some more skilful pen to describe it justly. Fertility was all around, and barren mountains stretched far across the sky before him, while on their summits some very heavy clouds were gathered, which he conceived to portend a storm; but his guide assured him that they almost constantly remained upon the ridge, and sometimes came much

lower down. After travelling about four miles, they passed a little brook, which Charles was informed separated the estates of the church from Tuscany, and almost immediately got into a very mountainous country.

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