griefs, and alleviate the sufferings of their kind— to rear in that atmosphere of love, young fair creatures that shall succeed in that worthy enterprize-to grow grey in cordial undiminished affection, and to lay their heads in one common grave, -such was the prospect this young gay creature had imagined to herself in a union with the excellent Henry; to this hope this rosy, laughing fairy sacrificed all those brilliant seductions of rank, fashion, elegance, and beauty, so dangerous to imaginations of eighteen. And why? Because she had an excellent heart and an excellent understanding,—the result of lively parts, ingenuous innocence, and, above all, of a wise unsophisticated education.

But the sound of the distant music, and of the many twinkling feet, penetrates into this apartment; and Henry is the first to remember their singular situation on this evening of gaiety and magnificence.

"My sweet one," said he, with his own gentle smile, "we have brought ourselves into an awkward situation enough; how are we to get back into the ball-room?"

"Caroline will help us," said she; "you go away first. Send Caroline to me, and I will come in again upon her arm."

"I suppose that will be best," rising most slowly and unwillingly; and he dragged himself, rather than walked, into the splendid dancing

room.

Selwyn had been anxiously watching for his return, or some signal from Flavia; but when Henry entered the room, he could scarcely believe he was the same man who had quitted it-his countenance seemed beautified-that expression can only give you an idea of the glow of happiness that shone with a brightness and serenity almost divine, over every feature-care, anxiety, those dark troubled lines which marred his likeness, had vanished-the clouds had rolled awaythe blue serene of heaven had settled there. What were all the cruel surmises and suspicions of Estcourt to him now? Lord George whispered in the ear of Flavia no longer-the future was as one eternal sunshine-yet, with that strange avarice of happiness which belongs to melancholy and disappointed characters, it seemed as if Henry

VOL. II.

F

delayed imparting his felicity even to his best friend. Those who are rarely very happy-and that is perhaps the case with all characters of great sensibility-seem to have a dread of marring such exquisite moments by the addition of the simplest new circumstance; so Henry evaded Selwyn through a sort of fancy of this kind; and not observing the questioning, astonished eyes of his friend, merely went up to Caroline and said, "Go directly into the boudoir, my dear; you are wanted;" and then he walked quietly among the company, and performed the part of son of the house, with an ease quite new to him—a sense of internal dignity and self-respect, which, though he well deserved to feel, he never before had felt, raising him at once to the place he so eminently deserved to occupy.

Selwyn looked at him with pleasure and surprise; he had always lamented a certain want of ease and dignity in the manners of his friend, and this metamorphosis was as agreeable as unaccountable.

Henry was soon engaged in dancing, whilst Estcourt looked on and marvelled. Was this the

anxious, low-spirited Henry, whom the communications he had this night made were calculated to fill with the most distracting anxieties? Was it possible that this young man possessed, after all, so much courage and spirit, as to resist and triumph, at this important moment, over the dark influences of his threatening fortune? to maintain so calm an exterior-such cheerfulness in his countenance, and a manner equally removed from depression of spirits-or from the exaggerated gaiety which is sometimes, assumed to cover depression of spirits.

Estcourt was compelled to honour, in the sensitive Henry, a victory, which his own sinewy cast of temper could scarcely have achieved.

Meantime, Lord George was roaming about searching for his little favourite, his little love, as he called her to himself, in fond appropriation; for, in spite of all Flavia did, or could say, he persisted in believing her to be his own. At last she appeared, leaning on the arm of Caroline, and how changed also! There was an ineffable softness, an eye downcast, a bending head, a slow stealing step, an air of diffidence, yet of

content, which had succeeded to the gay vivacity of an hour ago. But neither did she seek Selwyn; she went to a distant corner of the room, and there sat down behind a knot of people, evidently wishing to escape observation.

A pang shot through the bosom of Lord George, -he felt that she was lost to him for ever.-The instinct of love rarely deceives.-He, however, pushed his way to her, and said, in a hurried voice,―

"I am going away, good night."

She lifted up her eyes, and saw his changed and fallen countenance.

"Going away so soon?"

"Is it not time? I see it all, Flavia. Forgive my vain hopes, my mad persecutions. I do not pretend to blame you; you have been in the same story throughout.-God bless you!"