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par d'affreux sillons l'implacable viellesse,
A sur un front hideux imprimé la tristesse,
Que dans un corps courbé sous un amas de jours
Le sang, comme à regret seinble achever son cours ;
Lorsqu'en des yeux couverts d'un lugubre nuage
Il n'entre, des objets qu'une infidelle unage.

L'ame mourante alors, Aambeau savs nouriture,
Jette par intervalle un lueur obscure. Louis RACINE.

The Philosopher.

We must once more return to lady Mary Burton, in order that her history may keep pace with that of the rest of our characters; and as it is essential that a historian be correct in dates, we will say that it was about one month previous to the period at which our last chapter concludes, that she set out from London, with a view

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of proceeding to Paris with her aunt, lady Anne Milsome, in their way to Italy. Now though this calculation has been made from the most accurate sources of information at present extant, it is nevertheless very probable that there may be a mistake of a day or two, and therefore we will quote the words of doctor Moore's Almanack, saying—" The day before or the day after,” which will make no. great difference.

Lady Anne Milsome was neither of an age nor of a disposition to hurry herself in travelling, nor would she have done so on Mary's account, whose health was infinitely improved, and continued in a state of progressive amelioration every day of their journey; so much so, indeed, that she proposed to her aunt that they should spend a short time in Paris, and then return to England. But lady Anne was resolved to go on, and seemed to entertain as much dread of disobeying the physician's commands in the slightest particular,


as if he was some dreadful sorcerer, who
would visit her with a severe punishment

“ Well,” said lady Anne, as the car-
riage passed the barrier,“ so I am once more
in Paris. It is nearly fifty years, Mary,
since I was here before, and that was with
my poor deceased husband, Mr. Milsome,
who was one of the finest, best-bred young
men of his day; but every thing is altered
now, and the manners that were then the
most excellent, are as unfashionable as the
part of the town we lived in, the Place
Royale; while new ideas have sprung up
like the houses in the part of the town
where your brother resides, for I do not
think then the rue Mont Blanc was
thought of at all. Whereabouts is it,
love? You and all the Evelyns were
there for some time.”

Mary endeavoured to explain to her aunt where the rue Mont Blanc was situated; but before she could do so satisfactorily, the postilion demonstrated it in D 3


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the most practical manner, by driving up to the large porte cochère of lord Burton's hotel. The gates were thrown open, the carriage drove in, the door was opened, and in a moment Mary was in the arms of her brother.

Lord Burton almost carried her into the dining-room; and shading his eyes with his hand, gazed with a look of painful anxiety on the countenance of the sister he loved so much; then pressing her to his bosom, he kissed her repeatedly.“ A little pale, my Mary,” he said at length ; " but not looking ill either."

“ Well, Frederic,” said lady Anne, who had followed, " you do not take any notice of me.”

“ Pardon me, my dear aunt,” replied he, holding out a hand to her, while he still clasped Mary with the otber: “

you must pardon me. This is my only tie to life, and I had nearly lost her, without knowing it. Judge what it is to meet my dear Mary after such an illness.”


Mary was almost as much affected as her brother." But you do not look well yourself, Frederic,” said she at length;

you look more as if you had been travelling all day than we do.”

Lord Burton smiled“I have much that

presses on my mind just at present,” he answered; " but I will not speak of that to-day. We will think of nothing that can cast a shade over our meeting. You see, as Jane Evelyn desired and commanded, I have had poor little Cupid taken down, that she used to say stood there with his foot sticking out like a French dancing-master.”

Yes, indeed,” replied Mary; "and I think you have changed for the worse, for that frowning Roman emperor you have put up in his place, is enough to frighten every one out of the house."

Well, what do you say, lady Anne," asked lord Burton, “ Cupid or a Roman emperor ?" Oh, the emperor, by all means !" reD4


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