"Then she looks so lovable."

"That is true; she has a look as if one might love her. I wonder if she is writing a book! I mean to ask her."

"Do you think," asked Selmar, "that would be an agreeable question to her?"

"O, la! she must be hardened to all such things by this time. Come, Mr. Bowman, now is a good time for us to be introduced to her; but we must take care of what we say, or we shall get into her next book."

"Yes," said the gentleman, "whenever you associate with an authoress, your great object must be to keep out of her books." This sapient couple then tripped away, laughing at their own stale jests. Mr. Selmar looked up at Amy with a doleful expression of face, as much as to say, Can this be endured any longer? when Mr. Weston joined them.

"I saw you, father," said Amy, "talking with Miss Belmont, and I thought you looked pleased."

"Yes, I was rather pleased; all the world calls her agreeable. It is a pity that she thinks she knows any thing of politics. I cannot bear to hear a woman talk politics."

"Is it not of equal importance to a woman as

to a man, what the government is under which she lives? and, if so, is it not natural that she should have some opinion?"

"The wisest and best have agreed that women are not equal to deciding upon the great questions relating to government.'

"The wisest and best are always mcn, are they not, father?"

"All the sensible women of my acquaintance," said Mr. Weston, who did not choose to answer Amy's question, "agree with the great majority of men, in thinking that the female mind is not equal to politics."

Amy was always silent when her father talked about the female mind: she was so heterodox as to believe that mind was of no sex; but she knew she could not change her father's opinion.

Amy," said Fanny, as she bade her good night, "remember that you have not yet resigned your office of monitor."

"Yes I have," replied Amy, "to Mr. Roberts, as his sole right."

"No! no! I do not consent. I am more used to being good with you; and, besides, Mr. Roberts is too indulgent; he lets me be as naughty as I please."

"I trust that he will be a truer friend than that," said Amy, and they parted.

And now all the company, one after another, took their leave. It seemed as if the lights gradually faded away, and the flowers drooped, as each belle with her attendant beau departed.

CHAPTER VI.

Possessions vanish, and opinions change,
And passions hold a fluctuating seat;

But, by the storms of circumstance unshaken,
And subject neither to eclipse nor wane,
Duty exists."

WORDSWORTH.

"I HAVE been out of tune this evening," said Edward, as soon as he and Amy were alone together.

"So I have observed; and I was sorry for it." "Perhaps you have blamed me for it."

"I regretted, Edward, that you were not more disposed to enjoy yourself, particularly as it was Fanny's wedding."

"You do not sympathize with my state of feeling, Amy."

"I think I understand and can excuse your feelings, though I do not sympathize with them." "But I should be better pleased if you did."

"What! if you did not feel rightly, Edward?"

SKETCHES OF MARRIED LIFE.

63

"It may be a great fault in me, but I fear I do."

"You do yourself injustice, Edward. We have agreed that we will be faithful friends to each other, not flatterers."

“True, Amy; but you forget the peculiar trials of my case to have lost my property just at this moment, when I am sure of your love. But for my misfortunes, we might be married, as well as Fanny and Roberts. O, Amy, I have not felt like a Christian this evening; I have been envious of the happiness of my friend."

"Have faith-have patience; all will yet be well."

"It must be so long before I can possess such a property as will satisfy your father's ambition; perhaps never."

"Should not this uncertainty about the future teach us to make the most of the present?"

"I cannot be so very reasonable as you are, Amy."

"Do not mistake me, Edward; do not think me cold, because, when I am with you, I am too happy to think of the future. Our love is a present, enduring reality, into which the spirit of fear cannot enter; is it not, Edward?"

"You are right, Amy, and I have been wrong. Yours is the true, the heavenly love all hoping,