Mrs. Dormer, in whom my passionate complaints had raised a most sensible concern, could not resolve to leave me in that affliction; and therefore entreated me to stay in her chamber that night. As I knew my excessive grief would not suffer me to take any rest, I declined this offer, fearing I should disturb her; but she declaring she would not leave me, I chose rather to go with her than suffer her to stay out of her own apartment. But I spent the night without being able to close my eyes; nor could I receive any consolation from the affecting arguments she used to assuage my grief. Mr. Campbel, who had never failed to visit me every day, and whose concern for my governess was near equal to mine, came early in the morning to my lodgings) and, understanding Mrs. Blandon was dead, had waited some time in expectation of seeing me. I stole out of bed from Mrs. Dormer, who was asleep; and, when I was drest, went down stairs, in order to indulge my grief in my own room. The sight of Mr. Campbel renewed all my affliction: I melted into tears, and we continued for some moments in a moving silence. "Oh, my adored Harriot, said he, (with a voice interrupted with sighs) how does the tears that fall from those lovely eyes give unutterable pangs to my heart! Could it be any consolation to my charming angel to tell her, that I feel her affliction with more force than my own, she should know the load of anguish which oppresses me this moment." "I shall always think myself obliged to you, sir, replied I, for the interest you take in what concerns me. One in such a distressful situation as I am, can never set a sufficient value on a friend, who----." "Yes, miss, interrupted he, (eagerly) I glory in the title of your friend. My affection for you, tender and passionate as it is, takes in all the calmer qualities of friendship; and while I view your lovely person with the raptured eyes of a lover, as a friend your honor, your interest, and happiness, are dear to me as my own."

I should have been at a loss to reply to these generous sentiments, as I was not capable of making all the return they merited; had not the tender Mrs. Dormer broke in upon our conversation, and spared me the confusion of appearing ungrateful. "I am glad, miss, said she, (seeing Mr. Campbel) to find you are not alone. I was coming to seek you, fearing you was indulging your melancholy reflections by yourself." Mr. Campbel, to whom these instances of her friendly concern for me were highly acceptable, expressed the extreme pleasure it gave him in very obliging terms to Mrs. Dormer. She insisted upon my lover's coming with me into her apartment, and gave orders to be denied to all company that day, resolving, as she said, to devote it entirely to me.

My dear governess had settled all her little affairs exactly before she died, and had bequeathed me a very genteel present for a ring. I went into mourning for her immediately ; and, as soon as her funeral was over, accepted an invitation from Mrs. Dormer to spend some days with her at her country-house in Richmond.

Colonel F----, who now visited Lady Cecilia constantly, acquainted her with the death of my governess, and made my excuses for not waiting on her ladyship before I went out of town. As soon as I returned, I did not fail to pay my respects to her, and was received with the greatest testimonies of friendship. As I frequently spent whole days at her house, she took a pleasure in introducing me to her acquaintance; by which means I came to be generally known, and could have had an opportunity of strengthening my interest, by the addition of very powerful friends: but Lady Cecilia, resolving no one should interpose in an affair she had taken the management of, prevented any solicitations for a provision from the government for me, by declaring, in all companies, she would procure me an establishment herself.

I had wrote to my mother an account of all that had happened to me, and was expecting her answer, and another order upon the agent, which I began to want, when Mr. Campbel told me, he fancied it would be some time before I could receive another order from my mother; and, since the agent had so much money in his hands, he would not scruple to advance it, without having a bill drawn upon him; and begged I would allow him to call upon him, and make the request. I could not help blushing a little at his mentioning this affair, and would have gone myself to the agent; but he entreated so tenderly, that he might be allowed to manage this little business for me, that I suffered him to go alone, not without some fears that the gentleman would refuse to advance the money, and lay me under the necessity of applying to Lady Cecilia: for I had forgot to tell you, my dear Amanda, that she had frequently pressed me upon this subject, telling me, that she insisted upon furnishing me with what money I wanted, in case my remittances from my mother were too slow. Mr. Campbel, however, had received thirty pounds from the agent, and brought it to me, praising the politeness of that gentleman in very warm terms. I was startled at his receiving so large a sum, telling him, that as I expected a letter from my mother, in two months at farthest, much less would have done. And I was so apprehensive that my mother would be disobliged, that I mentioned some intention of going to the agent; but my lover begged me to be satisfied, acknowledging, after he had entreated my pardon for doing it without asking my leave, that he had given his note to the agent as a security, till he heard from N----.

I was inexpressibly confused at the thoughts of receiving such an obligation from a lover; and, when I reflected still more upon it, began to imagine there was some mystery concealed under Mr. Campbel's officious services on this occasion. I was determined, however, to know the truth; and, when my lover went away, I ordered a chair to be called, and went directly to the agent. That gentleman, not knowing me, inquired if I had any commands for him; upon which I told him my name. "I believe, miss, said he, I paid a bill some months ago upon your mother's order, and am sorry I can't oblige you with any more till I hear again from her." I had now discovered Mr. Campbel's artifice, to make me accept of the money he had brought; but not caring to let the agent understand any thing of the matter, I concealed the real design of my visit, and took my leave, after expressing some little resentment at his extreme caution.

Though I could impute this conduct of Mr. Campbel's to nothing but his anxiety, lest I should be straitened for money till I heard from my mother; yet I was absolutely determined not to accept of this obligation, whatever difficulties I might bring upon myself; and waited, with some impatience, for his next visit, that I might return the money. Mr. L---- had been with Mrs. Dormer while I was abroad; and, as soon as I returned, she sent to let me know she had some particular business with me. I went to her directly, and she gave me a letter with a smile of pleasure, telling me, that Mr. L---- had wrote it before her. I made an apology for breaking it open while I continued in the room, being impatient to know the contents, and found it as follows.

MADAM,
My brother begs leave you will accept of the enclosed bill for your present expenses; and, when your mother comes to England, he will settle all matters, relating to her expectations from her sister, entirely to her satisfaction. I am, &c.

In this laconic epistle there was enclosed a bank-bill for a hundred pounds, which was a very seasonable present, considering the resolution I had taken. Mrs. Dormer congratulated me on the prospect there was of Sir Edward's doing justice to our family: and, when I saw Mr. Campbel, I did not fail to acquaint him with it, telling him at the same time, I would give him the trouble to go to the bank and receive payment for this bill. I did not mention any thing concerning the stratagem he had used, till he had executed this commission; and then I insisted upon his keeping back thirty pounds, acknowledging my sense of the favor he had designed me, and his genteel manner of doing it. My lover was a little disconcerted at first; but he was too polite to insist any longer upon my accepting a sum I had now no occasion for: but methought I read in his eyes a tender concern, that he had lost an opportunity of being necessary to me.

My mind was just beginning to resume the tranquillity, which the loss of my governess had interrupted, when I received letters from my mother and sister, which acquainted me with the death of my beloved brother. This news, which was more dreadful than the stroke of death could have been, occasioned me a fit of illness, that lasted near two months. The physicians absolutely despaired of my recovery: the poignancy of my grief added force to my distemper. But, alas! my afflictions were not yet to have a period! I lived to suffer still more misfortunes.

As soon as I was in a condition to be moved, Mrs. Dormer took me to her country-house; and as she was now convinced of the ardent passion Mr. Campbel had for me, by his behavior during my illness, which had almost bordered upon distraction, she allowed him to visit me sometimes there.

Notwithstanding the endeavors of this amiable lady to amuse me, and keep off the sad reflections which continually tortured my imagination, I indulged a gloomy melancholy, which rendered me insensible to all her obliging cares. My dearest brother was never one moment from my thoughts. I wept incessantly: I wished for death; and found no other consolation, but in the hope of shortly following him to the grave. That you may have some idea, my dear friend, of the melancholy state of my mind, I have inserted the following little pieces, which were wrote under too great a pressure of spirits to have any other merit, than that of giving a true picture of the anguish that consumed me.

                  To Death. An Irregular Ode.

                                      I.

      Oh Death! thou gentle end of human pain,
            Why is thy stroke so long delay'd;
   Why to a wretch, who breathes but to complain,
            Do'st thou refuse thy welcome aid?
       Still wilt thou fly the plaintive voice of woe,
      And where thou'rt dreaded only aim the blow?

                                      II.

	Oh leave, fantastic tyrant! leave
      The young, the gay, the happy, and the free; 
             On them bestow a short reprieve, 
               And bend thy fatal shafts at me: 
       The beauteous bride, or blooming heir, 
               Let thy resistless power spare; 
          And aim at this grief-wounded heart, 
  That springs half way to meet the welcome dart.

                                      III.

           Still must I view, with streaming eyes, 
              Another, and another morn, arise? 
       Are my days lengthen'd to prolong my pain? 
              Enough of life's distress I've seen; 
          A finish'd wretch in youth's first bloom, 
            By early sorrow ripen'd for the tomb!

An Evening Ode. I. How swift the shades of ev'ning rise, And intercept the wand'ring sight; While still, with ardent gaze, my eyes Pursue the last faint streaks of light! II. Ah me! the still, the silent gloom, Adds greater force to my despair; With new disquiets fills my soul, And wakens every terror there. III. 'Tis now deep contemplation's hour; The soul on reason's wings may rise, All nature's boundless vast explore, And, soaring, pierce beyond the skies. IV. Ah! by what heavy clogs confin'd, Thus sinks my grov'ling thoughts to earth! Why can't my free capacious mind Trace the great source that gave it birth? V. Alas! no ray of beaming light In my afflicted breast is found; 'Tis one continued endless night, Dark as the awful gloom around.

Ought I not to blush, my dear Amanda, to own, that it was in the power of love to moderate an affliction so just, so reasonable, as mine? Alas! my heart was still enslaved by this enchanting passion; and what all the efforts of the most perfect friendship had failed to do, a letter from the dear Dumont produced in an instant. It had been left at my lodgings by a private hand, and sent by the post to Richmond. A gleam of joy darted through my soul at the sight of those welcome characters: I opened it with a trembling impatience! But, ah! my friend, how shall I describe the ecstasy which in a moment took possession of my whole soul, when the first words that met my eyes informed me my beloved Dumont was now a protestant! I threw down the letter, in order to indulge the swelling transport, the soft excess of almost painful joy!

It was some time before my strong sensations would give me leave to read it through. He related with the utmost exactness the rise and progress of this change; and acknowledged, that his first design being to strengthen himself with arguments, in order to overthrow my principles, since he was fixed in his own; he applied himself to reading, with the greatest industry, the most famous books of controversy upon our two religions: but, to his great amazement and confusion, found, as he advanced, his faith begin to stagger. New and unthought of doubts disturbed his mind: his eagerness to inquire more deeply redoubled; a ray of truth, something like conviction, dawned upon his soul. He studied the New Testament with the utmost care; and the fine reasoning of the learned Chillingworth completed the conquest. "Let it not, my lovely angel, said he, (concluding his affecting account) make me appear unfashionably grave in your opinion, if I tell you that, while my faith was thus fluctuating and unsettled, I continually offered up my most ardent petitions to heaven, to direct my choice to that religion that was best. I have reason to believe my prayers were heard, and thoughlove was the first cause of my happy change, yet I am only a convert to reason and to truth." He added, that he was preparing to come to England with the next ships which sailed from N----; and ended his dear epistle with a thousand vows of everlasting passion.

When the first emotions of my joy were over, the remembrance of my beloved brother, rushing again upon my soul, seemed to reproach me for the transitory pleasure I had tasted. The two passions of grief and joy divided my heart between them; but my transports by degrees subsiding, my grief also grew less intense: and the violent despair, which for some time had wholly possessed me, was now (such was the force of successful love!) changed to a gentle melancholy, which did not hinder me from sometimes feeling a tender transport at the thoughts of being united for ever to my beloved Dumont.

At my return to town I waited on Lady Cecilia, whose obliging behavior drew several poetical compliments from me; amongst which I have transcribed the following ode for your entertainment.

                     To Flavia. 

                             I.

   If, Flavia, in thy faultless form 
      All that is heav'nly fair we find; 
   If ev'ry grace conspires to charm, 
      And speaks the beauties of thy mind:

                             II.

   Why shouldst thou wonder, lovely maid, 
     At the soft passions you inspire? 
   Why those to hopeless love betray'd, 
     Or these feel friendship's fire?

                             III.

   Heedless, thy charming eyes enslave, 
     Nor know the smiling deaths they dart; 
   Nought can the wretched gazer save, 
     Or rescue his devoted heart.

                             IV. 

   But, ah! to win the soul is more, 
     And friendship's noble fires impart, 
   The work of some diviner po'er, 
     While reason wings th' unerring dart.

                             V. 

   Let thy adorers justly praise
     The wond'rous beauties of thy face; 
   Extol thy charms a thousand ways, 
     And with thy name their numbers grace.

                             VI. 

   Friendship a nobler theme shall find, 
     And to the admiring world display 
   The graces that adorn thy mind, 
     A subject that will ne'er decay.

                             VII.

   When thy bright eyes shall cease to wound,
     And age thy fading charms embrace;
   When in thy looks no trace is found,
     Of what the lovely Flavia was:

                             VIII.

   The lasting beauties of thy mind
     The Muse in gentle strains shall sing;
   In thy fair soul new charms shall find,
     To raise her voice, and prune her wings.

Lady Cecilia was so pleased with the incense that my gratitude, for the friendship she honored me with, induced me to offer her, that she loaded me with caresses, and read my poems to all her acquaintance. But thoughshe herself had taken pains to force my little merit upon the observation of her friends, she began to grow uneasy at the flattering compliments that were paid me in her presence; and I could perceive an unusual coldness and constraint in her manner, which increased every visit I made her.

As she had for some time forbore to mention the settlement she had promised to procure for me at court, I began to think my expectations were but weakly grounded: but I was not capable of feeling much pain from this disappointment. The chief bar to my union with my dear Dumont being near removed, all my ambition was bounded within the single wish of becoming his. Lady Cecilia, however, had made so much noise about providing for me, that I could not imagine how she would excuse herself to the world. Alas! I was almost the only person in it, who was ignorant of this lady's peculiar talent, in procuring dependents, by her affected benevolence, whom she never designed to serve, and raising hopes she never intended to gratify. Had she been contented with only imposing upon my credulity, and added me to the number of those whom she had deceived, I should not have had much reason to complain: but she was capable of meditating the blackest designs against me, and of endeavoring to sacrifice my fame, to give a sanction to her base desertion. After some weeks of coldness and reserve, she, of a sudden, assumed an air of the tenderest friendship; and assured me one day, that she soon expected a vacancy of a very genteel place about one of the princesses, and that she had recommended me to it; adding, that though I was rather too young for such a public life, yet she was persuaded my merit would render me very conspicuous.

I have before observed to you, my dear Amanda, that I was apt to be carried away with appearances, and incapable of suspecting, or by consequence guarding against any attempts to deceive me. My suspicions of Lady Cecilia's sincerity vanished in a moment. She could, when she pleased, assume an air of so much sweetness and affability, as in one of her high rank carried a peculiar charm with it. "I am thinking, Miss Stuart, said she, (with inexpressible good humor) how to dispose of you agreeably for two or three months. My sister the countess of ---- is just come from her country-seat: one of her daughters is exactly of your own age, and her mamma would be infinitely pleased to have a companion for her of your exalted understanding. I have promised to propose it to you, as I think it will be an agreeable establishment, till you are better provided for." As this proposal appeared wholly calculated for my advantage, and I had naturally a fondness for living in the gaiety and hurry of the great world, I expressed my acknowledgments to Lady Cecilia for the favor she did me; and assured her I would, with great pleasure, accept of the offer she made me.

I was preparing to go some little time after this, when a servant came to inform Lady Cecilia that the countess was come. "I am extremely glad, said her ladyship to me, that my sister is here. I'll introduce you, miss, to her immediately." Saying this, she took me into the drawing-room, where the countess was; and, telling her I was that miss Stuart whom she heard her mention, this stately lady saluted me with more civility than I expected, from the harshness of her countenance and the extreme haughtiness of her air. I was surprised, however, in a few moments, to see her drop her supercilious behavior, and talk to me immediately in a style of the greatest familiarity and friendship. She repeated, in an obliging manner, the offers her sister had made me; and when I had assured her of my consent, was so impatient to have me come, that I could scarce prevail upon her to give me a few days to prepare myself. This time, however, was no more than necessary: I employed it in putting myself in a condition to make a very genteel appearance; and was at an expense upon that account, not at all proportioned to my present circumstances.

Mr. Campbel, to whom I had always preserved a distance in my behavior, which made him not dare to press me upon the subject of his passion, having indeed rightly conceived, that my sentiments for him did not exceed the bounds of friendship and esteem, no sooner heard of my design, than complaining, in very tender terms, to Mrs. Dormer, who interested herself greatly in his favor, he told her, he had now lost all hope of making any impression upon my heart; and frankly confessed, that he could not believe all the good-sense I was mistress of, could preserve me from being intoxicated with that life of grandeur and expense, into which I was going to be initiated.

Though a lover's fears might be pardonable upon this occasion, yet, when Mrs. Dormer related this conversation to me, I could not forbear expressing some little resentment. "However, miss, said she, you have other friends beside Mr. Campbel, who do not foresee any great advantages for you in this offer. Lady Cecilia's quality has not preserved her from very free reflections on her conduct. If one might believe the censorious world, she has had more than one intrigue. The countess does not escape; and, methinks, persons who lie under such unfavorable censures, are not very proper protectors for a young lady like you."

Though I was convinced Mrs. Dormer's friendship for me made her express herself thus freely, yet still I was inclined to believe her reflections were rather too severe. I will not pretend to say it was my good-nature alone, which dictated a contrary opinion of Lady Cecilia: we always find a great facility in believing what we wish; and it was at present so much my interest to think well of that lady, that I could not persuade myself to search for reasons to lessen my esteem.

Mrs. Dormer, when she saw me preparing to go into the chair, which I had ordered to be called to carry me to the countess's, gave me a very affectionate embrace, telling me at the same time, that she feared I should repent taking this step. I thanked her for her generous concern; but was no farther affected with it, than as it gave me a stronger idea of her friendship.

I just came to the countess's when Lady Cecilia was getting into her chair: as soon as she saw me, she cried out, with a sort of satisfaction in her looks and accent, "Oh, are you come, my dear! I am excessively glad I happened not to be gone: I'll introduce you to my niece myself." I followed her ladyship into the drawing-room, and was received by a young lady, who seemed to be about seventeen years of age. Her aspect had something so soft and agreeable in it, that I was immediately prepossessed in her favor. Lady Cecilia, having said all that was necessary to make us acquainted, hurried again into her chair; and the countess coming in a moment after, seemed excessively pleased to find me there.

I spent some weeks in a continual round of diversions, which could not fail of having charms for one of my gay temper. There being always deep play in the countess's drawing-room two or three times a week, Lady Louisa, her daughter, who had a taste that way, was always engaged in cards: and as I never had any inclination for this amusement, I usually spent the evenings, that were devoted to it, in the nursery; where there were two young ladies, within a year or two as old as myself, and a little enchanting creature of six years old, who was a miracle of wit and beauty. The young viscount of ----, the eldest son of this family, made one in our little parties above stairs; and I so insensibly accustomed myself to stay there, that, by degrees, I found myself totally forgotten, and looked upon as an inmate of the nursery. This surprising change in the behavior of the countess and Lady Cecilia, who, thoughshe visited there every day, had left off even inquiring after me, gave me so sensible a mortification, that I was resolved to come away immediately; and acquainted Mrs. Dormer with my reasons for taking such a resolution. "I told you, miss, said she, that you would repent your going to the countess's. I see plainly the scheme of Lady Cecilia and her sister: they want to give you some disgust, in order to force you to leave them abruptly. By this means Lady Cecilia will be freed from the obligation she has laid herself under to procure you a settlement at court, and have an opportunity of prejudicing you in the opinion of the world, who will be easily persuaded to think you have been very ungrateful to your benefactress. Let me advise you then, to stay the time you had at first intended, and disappoint the design they have certainly laid against you." I was the more inclined to take Mrs. Dormer's advice, as Lady Louisa and myself were in perfect good intelligence; and, besides, I had conceived so strong a resentment at Lady Cecilia's ungenerous behavior, that I fancied to myself an extraordinary pleasure in breaking her measures, and forcing her to act without disguise.

You must not imagine, my dear Amanda, though I had but few opportunities of extending my conquests, that my eyes were entirely idle. During my short stay at the countess's, I had numbered two adorers in my train, who, as inconsiderable as I thought them, were still capable of doing me a great deal of mischief. A young foreigner, with no other advantage than a very genteel figure, and a tolerable birth, had been received into the family in the quality of governor to the young viscount. I could never hear he had any other recommendation to her ladyship's favor, than those accidental advantages I have mentioned, but the additional one of having fled his country for a murder: a circumstance, which, far from inspiring horror, had produced in the countess a great opinion of his bravery; and, possibly, was the cause of the respect and deference with which he was treated. As improbable as this may appear, yet it was only one of those whims, for which this great lady was eminently distinguished; and much of a piece with that which made her raise one of the lowest of her female domestics to a place in the house, of great trust and consequence, immediately after her lying-in of a base-born child. Mr. Repoli, for that was the name of the viscount's governor, was vain of his personal accomplishments, even to insolence. He fancied no woman ever looked on him without being captivated, and, in consequence of this opinion, carried something so assuming and confident in his air, that it was easy to discover how much his attention was fixed upon his dear self, and that he was triumphing in the conscious pleasure of giving love to all that beheld him. This ridiculous fellow afforded me a good deal of diversion, as I had often opportunities of observing it in its full extent. The young viscount, who coated on his governor, brought him every evening into the young ladies apartment, where I generally was; and I very soon had the pleasure of making this Narcissus admire another face besides his own.

As it was never a part of my character to be offended with any homage that was paid to my charms, I suffered the ardent glances of Repoli without any appearance of dislike; and while he expressed his passion only by sighs and looks, and those little officious assiduities which newborn affection suggests, I contemplated with pleasure the effects of my power on a heart, which before had been only filled with the enchanting emotions of self admiration. But as it is the nature of love to inspire timidity and respect, the haughty Repoli, awed by the distance of my behavior, (for, in spite of his embroidery, I could consider him only in the character of an upper domestic) did not presume to acquaint me with his sentiments. And while his passion for me was the subject of conversation to almost every one in the house, I only, to avoid the mortification of such unworthy addresses, affected to be ignorant of it.

Fortune, or rather love, presented me at the same time another votary, in whom I had a very formidable rival: no less than the countess herself. You may imagine perhaps, my dear Amanda, that the lover I speak of was a nobleman of the first rank, and that the countess was a widow, and at liberty to avow her affection: however, nothing of this was the case. Her ladyship had a very fond husband, who had so perfect a complaisance for her, as never to oppose her will in any thing. Possibly, indeed, he acted wisely in this respect; for it was better to resign his authority tamely, than have it wrested out of his hands; her ladyship being, next to Lady Cecilia her sister, the highest-spirited woman of quality in England. The lover, then, which my unfortunate eyes procured me, and in whom her ladyship claimed a prior right, was no other than the chaplain, a young smooth-faced boy, who had been taken from Westminster-school to fill up this sacred office in the family, in which he was considered as one of the principal persons. My lord himself was so extremely fond of his company, that he would often drink, tête à tête, a bottle with him before he went to bed; and my lady would sit two or three hours alone with him afterwards, discoursing, no doubt, upon religious matters; for thoughthe young chaplain had no great appearance of sanctity, yet her ladyship was fond of being reckoned very devout.

My temper was too much turned to gaiety, not to be excessively diverted with the absurd addresses of this young reverend. He had studied poetry and plays more than divinity; and was always repeating, with an affected emphasis, some rhapsody from the most celebrated dramatic performances. With this immoderate passion for theatrical flights, you may be sure the language of love was always bombast in his mouth, and therefore I was generally addressed in the stile of Alexander the Great. "Oh, my Statira! Oh, my angry Dear!" As I knew nothing mortified him more than to consider him in the light of a clergyman, I always affected to be more than ordinarily grave when he was with me, and generally turned the discourse upon religious subjects. Thus, when he as declaiming on some particular beauties in his favorite writings, poetry or plays, I assumed a serious air, and talked of sermons and homilies; and while he enlarged on the merit of Otway and Rowe, among the dramatic poets, to me, I recommended the study of Tilloton and Barrow, among the preachers, to him. He had too much penetration not to see that I diverted myself at his expense; and, finding my heart impenetrable to him, concluded it must be possessed by somebody else. In this, indeed, he was not mistaken. The united charms of the whole sex, would not have been able to rob my dear Dumont of one single wish: but why do I say the united charms! Was not the person of my Dumont loveliness itself? Alas! how little could I boast of my fidelity in preserving entire my tenderness for him, who had given me such exalted proofs of the sublimity of his passion!

The chaplain having observed the affection Repoli had for me, concluded I could not be insensible of his merit; and was so piqued at my fancied preference of this foreigner, that he would often rally me before him on my inclinations. My resentment at a suspicion, which my pride thought so injurious, discovered itself in strewing the utmost contempt for him. But Repoli, conceiving some hopes from the chaplain's insinuations, which his vanity improved into a settled belief that I really loved him, began to wear less constraint in his behavior, and filled me with perpetual dread, lest he should take the liberty to declare himself.

Lady Louisa, as I have before observed, had conceived a very great esteem for me: we lived together in the utmost familiarity and friendship. She had an uncommon share of understanding, and so sprightly a temper, that I was quite charmed with her. Some of those evenings that she did not devote to cards, we spent together in her apartment with great satisfaction. But I now began to observe she had lost a great part of her vivacity: an unusual thoughtfulness seemed wholly to engross her; and her eyes had so melancholy and tender a cast, that I was very sensibly affected with it.

As she seemed to allow me some share in her confidence, I one day took occasion to observe the alteration in her humor, and complained of her reserve, in not acquainting me with the cause of her affliction. "Dear miss Harriot, said she, (blushing, and pressing my hand) you have no reason to reproach me. 'Tis true, I have concealed from you an affair, on which my happiness depended; but it was because I feared you would condemn my weakness. I have wished a thousand times, that you would give me an opportunity of unloading my heart to you. Alas, I am the most unhappy creature in the world!" Her tears interrupted her here, and had so great an effect upon me, that, for some moments, I had not power to beg her to explain herself. "Would you think it, my dear, resumed she, (abruptly) I am weak enough to suffer the most tormenting disquiets for a man, who has rendered himself unworthy of my tenderness: but, in order to make you comprehend my misfortune, I must trace it from its source.

About a year and a half ago, the young earl of L---- came from his travels. I had heard great talk of the fine accomplishments of this nobleman, and had a violent inclination to see him; but, as he did not visit in our family, I could only expect to have my curiosity gratified at public places, where I sought him out with an eagerness that seemed to presage something extraordinary. I was one night at the Opera, when a gentleman came into the opposite box, whose figure in a moment fixed my attention. I could not help fancying that it was the earl of L---- and was going to ask the ladies who were with me if they knew who he was, when I observed him bow to them, and immediately after come into our box. The countess of S----, who was with me, being very well acquainted with him, informed me, in a whisper, that it was the earl of L----. My face, in an instant, was covered with blushes; and I was so conscious of the unusual disturbance in my behavior, that I trembled lest it should be taken notice of. When the opera was ended, Lord L----, who had directed most of his discourse to me, handed me to my chair. As I wished for nothing more ardently than to be able to make some impression on his heart, I drew a favorable omen from the gallant turn of his expressions to me. And I now visited Lady S---- so constantly, that I had frequent opportunities of seeing the earl of L----, who was not long before he declared a passion for me. You may imagine, my dear, pursued Lady Louisa, that, prepossessed as I was in his favor, I could not refuse him all the encouragement that was consistent with decency. He made his pretensions known to my father and mother; and I received a command from them, in form, to admit his addresses. With persons of our quality, these sort of treaties are generally concluded in a short time. Our marriage was only to be deferred till the King's return from Hanover, to which place my Lord L---- attended him. I thought myself happy beyond expression, when my lover, after an absence of six or seven months brought me back a heart, as he told me, filled with my idea.

The necessary preparations for our marriage were making, when my father informed me, that he insisted upon having five thousand pounds more with me than he had offered. This sordid behavior filled me with an excess of resentment at first; but my lover had the art to put such a gloss on it, that I insensibly restored him to my good opinion; or rather, my fatal tenderness made it impossible for me to quarrel with him However, our marriage was delayed upon this dispute, which happened just as you came here. Lord L---- visited us still frequently; but you never chanced to be with me when he came. Oh Harriot! had you ever seen this dear youth, you would allow my weakness has some excuse. About a week ago, he thought proper again to mention our marriage to my father; but he continuing still to refuse this fatal sum, my unworthy lover resigned his pretensions: and my father has given me orders to return all his letters and presents, and never to see him more.

Lady Louisa ended with a flood of tears; and then, bitterly exclaiming against the baseness of her lover, and lamenting as often the cruel obstinacy of her father, asked me, in a trembling accent, what she ought to do. "Shall I not see him once more, said she, to upbraid him with his infidelity, and treat him with the scorn and contempt he deserves?" "Ah, madam! said I, recollect yourself! The earl of L---- does not deserve that you should take the pains to reproach him. In my opinion, you ought to-treat him with the most perfect indifference, and send back his letters and presents, without giving him an opportunity to excuse his ungenerous behavior to you. If he still retains his former sentiments for you, this appearance of tranquillity on your side, will awaken his fears of losing your esteem, and force him to make some atonement for the injury he has offered your merit."

"Do you think it would have that effect?" interrupted she eagerly. Then pausing a little, "Yes, my indifference must shock him excessively: how strangely he'll be surprised, when he finds me return his trifles, without, as you observe, deigning to expostulate with him upon his falsehood. Oh, that I could, concealed, observe him! Dear miss Harriot, pursued she, (in a sudden transport) I have thought of a way how to convince myself of his perfidy. My lady has left it entirely to me to return his letters in what manner I please: suppose I send for him, and ----." "Ah, Lady Louisa, interrupted I, have you already changed your resolution?" "No, no, said she, I am still determined to act by your advice. Hear what I propose: Lord L---- shall come here by my invitation; but I will not see him myself. You must not refuse, my dear, to serve me on this occasion. You shall deliver him, from me, the pledges of his false affection, without any instances of resentment; but let him imagine, that I obey, without reluctance, the commands of my father, never to see him more. I'll conceal myself, in order to observe his behavior; and I promise you, if he receives your message with indifference, I'll drive him from my heart for ever."

As I had no aversion to the task Lady Louisa enjoined me, I promised to acquit myself of it with the utmost regard to her honor. She seemed, for some time, quite transported with her project, and dispatched away a sealed card to the earl of L----, desiring him to attend her at her father's in the evening.

When the hour approached that we expected his lordship, we both went down into the drawing-room. The countess was engaged till ten o'clock, so that we were in no fear of interruption. Lady Louisa concealed herself in a little room, that led to a pair of back-stairs; but as she had a mind to observe the changes in her lover's countenance, which she expected her message would occasion, she did not shut the door entirely: but, leaving it a little open, I placed a fire-screen before It, to prevent his getting the smallest glimpse of her, and to give her at the same time an opportunity of observing him with more ease.

She had just placed herself, when a servant opened the door, and the earl of L---- entered the room. He came forward at first with an air of tenderness and gaiety, supposing it was Lady Louisa; for I had my handkerchief that moment at my face, being sensible it was all covered with blushes, occasioned by the novelty of the part I was to act. His lordship, however, discovering his mistake upon his nearer approach, looked for a moment steadfastly upon me, and, starting back, discovered in his eyes the strongest indication of a surprise, which seized me also at the same moment; for, in the person of the earl of L----, I soon recollected the same Lord S---- I mentioned in the beginning of my history, who, by the service he had done me, while I was yet a child, had filled my young bosom with the first tender emotions it had ever felt.

Though my astonishment was not inferior to his, yet I sooner recollected myself; and fearing the consequence of renewing our acquaintance at so dangerous a juncture, when the concealed Lady Louisa would be racked with impatience to unravel the mystery, and possibly entertain some uneasy suspicions, I assumed an appearance of unconcern; and affecting not to have the least knowledge of him, "Your lordship, said I, (with a respectful air) no doubt, expected to see Lady Louisa here; but her ladyship has been pleased so far to favor me with her confidence, as to give me a commission to return these letters and jewels into your hands: and to tell your lordship, that, since it is her father's commands she should see you no more, she hopes you will not be surprised if she is resolved to pay the exactest obedience to his will, by giving up all traces of a former correspondence between herself and your lordship."

I might have gone on for half an hour in this strain, if I pleased, without interruption; for his lordship continued still in the same posture of astonishment, with his eyes fixed on my face; and, his silence giving me an opportunity to observe him with more attention, I thought I could discover much of the libertine in his looks and air, which, in my opinion, robbed him of great part of his agreeableness.

My Lord L---- had suffered me to lay the letters and jewels (which consisted of a very fine necklace and ear rings) upon the table, without offering to take them up; so much had his attention been engaged. "I don't know, madam, said he, (at last) whether you have been able to recollect me; but I am sure I am not mistaken, when I believe you to be Miss Harriot Stuart." I found it was in vain to hope I could dissemble my knowledge of him any longer; and, after a short pause, I told him, smiling, That it was true I remembered something of his lordship's face; and his mentioning my name, convinced me I had seen him before. `'Can you not remember where, miss?" said he, with an expressive look. "Yes, my lord, said I, (willing to let the listening anxious Lady Louisa know how our acquaintance began) thoughyour title is different from that of my Lord S----, who assisted me, while I was yet a child, to escape from a very great danger at a little theatre in Westminster; yet I cannot help imagining you are the same nobleman, to whom I was so much obliged." "My title, replied he, is only changed to that of my father's, who has been dead these four years; and I am surprised you did not remember it: for I am certain, as you have often heard me mentioned here, you must recollect it belonged to the father of that happy youth, who had the good fortune to do you an inconsiderable service, which you have been so generous not to forget. But how, continued he, (while I trembled at the tone with which he had spoke these last words) how could you be so long in recollecting my person! If any thing could have kept yours from my knowledge, it would have been these thousand additional charms, with which a few years have adorned you. But yet, pursued he, (offering to take my hand) the sound of that enchanting voice would have brought you to my memory, had it been possible for me to forget you."

You may easily imagine, dear Amanda, how unpleasing such discourse must be to poor Lady Louisa! As for myself, my confusion was inexpressible: I would have given, that moment, worlds, if I had had them, to have been relieved from this perplexing situation. I felt all Lady Louisa's pains; and dreading, by this beginning, the continuance of a conversation, so torturing both to her and myself, I endeavored to put an end to it, by telling his lordship, that, since I had executed my commission, I must beg leave to retire.

"Is it possible, said he, that you are so extremely insensible of the pleasure I take in thus meeting you so unexpectedly, as to deny me a few moments conversation! Ah, miss Stuart, how unkind is this! But I am determined, pursued he, you shall not leave me till I have convinced you, that my heart, which was first devoted to you, burns this moment with an ardor infinitely greater than that those lovely eyes first kindled in it. How, beyond imagination, happy has this meeting made me!" "For heaven's sake, my lord, interrupted I, (forcing my hand out of his, which he had all this while struggled to keep) do not oblige me to listen to such discourses as these! I will not stay a moment longer." "Tell me only, replied he, when or where I shall see you, and I'll leave you this moment. By heaven, I shall not enjoy any rest till I see you again."

He had scarce uttered these words when I heard Lady Louisa sigh aloud, and immediately fall down, as I concluded, in a swoon. The earl of L---- starting at the noise, and possibly imagining the occasion, was running to the place from whence he heard it, when I stops him; eager to preserve the unfortunate Lady Louisa from being discovered in a situation, which would have convinced him of the undeserved affection she still felt for him. "Oh fly, my lord! said I. Will you ruin me by your stay!" "Heavens! cried he, what can you mean by these words! I ruin you, my lovely angel! Who is in this room? Why are you so much alarmed?" "Leave me now, my lord, said I; and I promise you, upon my honor, you shall see me to-morrow." "Well, said he, (kissing my hand by force) I'll obey you then, upon that condition: but remember to keep your word." In saying this, he retired; and I eagerly ran to Lady Louisa, whom I found extended on the ground, in a fainting fit. I raised her immediately; and, after rubbing her temples with a little Hungary-water she came to herself.

I was in so much confusion at what had happened, that I could only ask how she did, without entering into the ungrateful subject of her lover's behavior. However, I imagined that she seemed to expect I should first speak; for she continued silent, with her eyes fixed on the ground, for some minutes: at last, raising them, and observing the jewels and papers lying still upon the table, "What, said she, (sighing) did my Lord L---- refuse to take those things? But, now I remember, he was too much taken up with his meeting you, to trouble himself about slighter matters." "You heard all that passed, madam, returned I, and must be sensible that I was no way accessory to this meeting." "Why, miss Harriot, interrupted her ladyship, I hope you don't imagine I am at all concerned in your meeting, or shall take the pains to reflect whether it was chance or design. I only know, that my Lord L---- has treated me with great contempt; and that I stumbled upon a very improper person to deliver my message to him. However, let us speak no more upon the subject: I shall fall upon another method to restore him these things."

Saying this, she went up to her own apartment, to which I accompanied her. At the door she turned and made me a formal courtesy: I took the hint, and retired immediately, not a little mortified at the alteration in her behavior. But when I reflected on the too just cause she had for uneasiness, I was not capable of feeling any resentment for the unjustifiable suspicions she seemed to entertain of me.

I am afraid you'll be apt to imagine, from what I have said of my prevailing foible, that the sentiments Lord L---- expressed for me, were not able to give me much concern, notwithstanding my friendship for Lady Louisa; and yet, I assure you, my friend, you are much mistaken. I conceived so great a dislike to him, for his sordid and ungenerous treatment of that young lady, that I could not prevail upon myself to believe he was capable of feeling a delicate passion for any one. Besides, as I have before observed, his every look and action had so much of the libertine, that I should have thought it highly imprudent to have conversed with him, upon any account. His rank and fortune made the sentiments he avowed for me, dangerous to my reputation; and I there fore determined, notwithstanding the promise which the necessity there was for sending him away extorted from me, to avoid all opportunities of seeing him.

In the morning Lady Louisa sent to let me know, that she expected me in her own apartment. As soon as I went in, she dismissed her woman, and asked me, with some appearance of confusion, if I could pardon the ill-humor she was in when we parted. "If you discovered any ill-humor to me, madam, replied I, you certainly thought I merited it; and, in that case, I am rather to clear myself of any disingenuity you suspect me of, than to expect an apology from your ladyship." "But, dear miss, interrupted she, give me the satisfaction to know when, and in what manner, you became acquainted with the earl of L----. I can't help being surprised, that you never acknowledged to me you knew him, when I mentioned him to you!" "I see, madam, answered I, that it will be difficult to persuade your ladyship that I might be acquainted with my Lord S---- before I went abroad, and yet have no knowledge of the earl of L----." "'Tis strange, resumed she, that you should never have heard his father's title!" "Possibly, madam, said I, I may have heard it; but 'tis certain, it was so entirely lost to my remembrance, that I never imagined Lord S----, with whom I had some acquaintance while I was a child, could be the earl of L----, whom you desired I should see. And your ladyship must be certain, from his behavior, that we had neither of us seen one another since my return to England." "Well, miss, said she, I was not questioning you about that. His behavior, as you say, might have convinced me too, that, if you have not seen him since you came to England, you were, at least, very particularly acquainted before you left it."

Though the peevish manner in which Lady Louisa spoke, assured me her mind was still tainted with suspicions to my prejudice; yet I assumed all the good-humor I was capable of, and related very exactly the occasion of my first knowing Lord L----, suppressing only some little circumstances, which, I feared, would give her pain. She paused, after I had ended my little narration, for a minute or two; and then asked me, what my lord said at parting, and if he had mentioned nothing of her. 'Twas here, my dear Amanda, that, affecting to act from prudent artifice, as I thought, and forsaking that simplicity that was natural to me, I drew upon myself a suspicion I did not deserve, which, nevertheless, I could never clear myself of.

Though my concern for Lady Louisa, and the fear of her being discovered, was the cause of my promising Lord L---- that I would see him again, in order to oblige him to go; yet I could not prevail upon myself to mention this circumstance to Lady Louisa, which I feared would increase her distrust of me, and possibly make her apprehend that I really designed to keep a correspondence with the earl of L----. I therefore took no notice of it; and we parted for that day, without any great appearances of resentment on Lady Louisa's side: though I thought I could observe a certain coldness and reserve in her manner, which was very unusual.

This accident had contributed to increase my disgust against staying any longer in the countess's house; and I was thinking how to excuse my leaving her before the winter was ended, when the insolent Repoli, finding me alone one day in a room, which I used frequently to visit, because they were working tapestry in it, made me a frank declaration of love: and, supposing I was too much charmed with his fine person to be able to deny him, seemed to expect that his offer would fill me with infinite satisfaction.

As much confounded as I was at first with this unexpected assurance, I recollected myself soon enough to damp his triumph, before he had much time to indulge it; and choosing to express my contempt of him rather by scorn than anger, I had the pleasure to see the haughty Swiss grow pale with rage and disappointment. He went out of the room, muttering some words I could not understand, just as an elderly gentlewoman, who taught the young ladies embroidery, entered it.

Mrs. Ellis, for that was her name, was a woman of good sense, and the most friendly disposition in the world. She discovered a particular fondness for me all the while I was in the house, having opportunities of conversing with me very often, as I delighted extremely in learning to embroider, which she took great pains to teach me. "Has Mr. Repoli been speaking to you, miss? said she. Can it be you that he is vowing vengeance against!" "What, replied I, (laughing) is the furious Swiss in a fighting humor? I have given him, indeed, a very severe affront; but, thank heaven, I run no danger of a challenge." "Ah, my dear young lady, returned she, take care of yourself, I beseech you. Repoli is the most dangerous man in the world to quarrel with. His countrymen are remarkable for the keenness of their anger, and eager thirst of revenge. Repoli is distinguished for possessing those bad qualities in a very great degree. His temper is dark, cruel, and designing; and, from all that I can learn of his character, capable of the most daring acts of villainy to gratify his revenge, which is his predominant passion."

"Why sure, Mrs. Ellis, replied I, (a little startled) you don't think he'll poison me, do you? I wonder the countess entertains a man of such dangerous principles in her house!" "The countess, said the old gentlewoman, is often apt to misplace her favors; and Mr. Repoli is not the only instance of it. Besides, the young viscount dotes upon him, and that is sufficient to make him almost absolute here. I know, miss, pursued she, that what I now say would cost me my place, if it came to the countess's ear; but I love you, and think it my duty to put you upon your guard. My lady is your mortal enemy: she has been informed, that the chaplain is in love with you; and I am persuaded you'll shortly find the effects of her resentment."

The countess's regard for her chaplain had been whispered about for some time, and no one in the house could possibly be ignorant of it, as her ladyship's behavior to him was indeed very extraordinary. I had, therefore, no difficulty in comprehending Mrs. Ellismeaning; but as I had always treated that gentleman with great indifference, I thought I had no reason to apprehend any ill consequence from it. I would fain have persuaded Mrs. Ellis to tell me, how she came by her knowledge of her lady's sentiments with regard to me; but in this she begged to be excused: "Not, added she, that I think you would make any ill use of it. My confidence in your generosity, forbids me to suspect you; and, to say the truth, miss, I am under no great terrors upon that account. Thank heaven, my dependence is not upon the countess's favor: I do not pretend to that sort of merit, which entitles me to it. I cannot stoop to the grossest flattery and adulation. My behavior, ever since I came to the house, has been decent and respectful; but I have the ill fortune, if I may term it so, to be liked by no one in it, but my lord and the young ladies."

The old gentlewoman being in a talking strain, continued to give me some very useful hints concerning my behavior, if I had intended to stay much longer in the house. She concluded her discourse with entreating me again to take care of Repoli, who, she assured me, was one of the most profligate fellows in the world. 'Twas easy to see, by Mrs. Ellisrepeated cautions against him, that she thought him capable of forming some settled design against me: but, as she did not explain herself fully in this respect, I forbore to press her any farther; contenting myself with the resolution I had formed to leave this detested house, where I had been treated so unworthily. For I was now convinced, that Lady Cecilia had basely imposed upon me; and that my hopes of procuring any settlement by her means, which would put it in my power to make some addition to the small fortune of my Dumont, were no longer to be depended upon.

I was sitting alone in my chamber, a day or two after this, the family being all gone to the earl of O----'s, when, hearing somebody rap gently at the door, I rose and opened it; and seeing, to my great surprise, Repoli there, I was going to shut it again in a violent rage, when the villain rushed in, and, in an instant fastening it, immediately seized me in his arms: but before he had time to stop my mouth with his handkerchief, which he attempted to do, I had recovered from my astonishment, and cried out as loud as I possibly could. The infamous Repoli, hearing somebody run across the gallery, unfastened the door, and hurried away, having vented a dreadful execration; and two moments after Mrs. Ellis came in, to whom I related the astonishing insolence he had been guilty of. "Alas, dear miss, said she, I had a frightful presage of this from the principles I have heard the villain avow; but I could not imagine he would dare to make such an attempt here. You may judge, by this, of his influence." "I am resolved, returned I, to be gone to-morrow: I will stay no longer in a house where such enormous vices are allowed. But, thoughthe countess should resolve to protect this monster, ought I not to acquaint her with his infamous designs?" "I am of opinion, miss, said Mrs. Ellis, that you will find but little redress; and her ladyship will be apt to turn your complaint into ridicule, and possibly make some ill-natured reflections on you: for, I believe, she would not disoblige her darling son, by turning his favorite away, thoughhe was to make such an attempt upon one of her relations." I was determined, however, to quit the house the next day, and acquaint the countess, that that was one of my reasons for doing so.

Mrs. Ellis informed me in the morning, that Lady Cecilia had been with her lady in the dressing-room some time. She had scarce done speaking, when a footman came to tell me, that the countess desired to speak with me. I followed him instantly, not being able to imagine the meaning of this message; and was beginning to fancy Lady Cecilia had really done something in my affairs, when the countess, meeting me as I entered the room, threw the door after me, with a force that almost shook the house: and while my astonishment at this action, and the fury which sat upon her face, kept me silent, she loaded me with the most injurious expressions, calling me jilt, prostitute, and all the names that infamy could deserve.

"Can it be possible, madam, said I, (recovering from my surprise) that it is to me you direct this language!" "Yes, interrupted she, 'tis to you I speak! You who, at these early years, have dishonored yourself and your family, and have dared to make even my house the scene of your guilt." "Oh my God! cried I, (almost beside myself with rage) what can this mean! Who has dared to asperse me in this barbarous manner? If you have any sense of justice and humanity, tell me, madam, I charge you, who are my accusers. Bring them before me: let them mention to my face, this guilt you reproach me with." "No, interrupted the cruel countess, (with a scornful smile) you shall never have that satisfaction." "What, resumed I, shall I hear myself charged with the vilest of crimes, and not know who accuses me! Hear me, madam, pursued I, (throwing myself, in a transport of grief, upon the ground, and catching hold of her gown, while she was endeavoring to get from me) either bring the wretches that have fixed this scandal on me before my face, or I shall think you have invented it yourself, for some private ends. I condescend to ask it on my knees, do justice to an unhappy young creature, whose character is all her dependence! Suffer me to clear myself! I ask no more! Bring the wretch before me!"

I had scarce breath to utter these last words; grief and indignation worked so forcibly upon my spirits, that I was no longer able to support the shock. I quitted my hold, and sunk almost breathless upon the floor; and, had I not been relieved by a deluge of tears, I believe the strong emotions of my soul would have been fatal to me. The countess rung her bell, upon which the housekeeper entered the room: the same person who had acquired her favor by being, in reality, what she desired I should be thought to be. "Take up that young dissembler, said she to this chaste person; don't let her grovel in the ground, with her tragic airs. Who would believe, continued she, (addressing herself still to the housekeeper) that all that innocence in her countenance is feigned! Would not one be almost persuaded she could not be guilty!"

"How dare you, madam, replied I, (pushing away the housekeeper, and rising in a rage) how dare you continue to load me thus with scandalous reproaches, yet deny what I have so ardently begged, the knowledge of my accusers! But your inhuman malice is too plain: I know the cause; and I am tempted to believe you sent the horrid ruffian into my chamber, to make me guilty indeed. But know, madam, whatever force your high rank and fortune may give to your base aspersions on my fame, truth and innocence will still be too hard for you. My past conduct has been not only irreproachable, but worthy praise: and, to your everlasting confusion, my future behavior shall prove the falsehood of your censures. And since I am sensible the greatest revenge I can possibly take, for the wrong you do me, is to prove myself innocent, I will not be content with the private testimony of an unblameable life and a clear conscience; I will, for once, affect ostentation, to make that virtue remarkable, which you will endeavor, in vain, to blemish."

The countess, who seemed ready to expire with rage at the freedom of my language, was going to reply, when her lord came into the room. "What is the matter, for heaven's sake, madam? said he to his lady. What means all this noise and confusion, miss Harriot! pursued he to me. Will you not tell me the occasion of it?" "No, my lord, answered I, her ladyship can best inform you. I am going this moment out of your house, where I have reason to repent I ever came." Saying this, I flung out of the room, and went up to my own chamber; desiring a servant who was in waiting in one of the outer rooms, to get me a coach to the door. A minute or two afterwards, Lady Louisa's woman brought me a billet, which was as follows:

You cannot wonder, miss, that I have not appeared in your cause, at a time when my friendship might possibly have been of some service. The treacherous part you acted by me, justifies the most unfavorable censures that can be made on you. Read the enclosed, and blush, if you are able.

I had opened this billet with so much precipitation, that I never minded a paper which fell out of it; but, having read it through, I hastily looked on the ground, and seeing a letter directed to me in an unknown hand, upon my opening it, and casting my eyes at the bottom, I saw it signed L----. My face was, in an instant, covered with blushes! My Lord L----, in the first lines, reproached me with breaking my promise, in not giving him an opportunity of seeing me the next day: complained of the cruel disappointment; and, in the most ardent terms imaginable, begged me to let him know where he could see me. I would scarce give myself time to finish this letter: I again read over Lady Louisa's injurious billet; and, wholly engrossed by my resentment for the reproaches it contained, I threw away both the letters with an air of disdain. And being told that instant, that the coach waited, I went immediately down stairs, leaving the woman to carry the letters back again to her lady, if she pleased; for I saw her take them up.

I ordered the coachman to drive to Lady Cecilia's; resolved to try whether I could prevail upon her to explain herself upon this dark affair. I had the good fortune to hear she was alone, and, upon sending in my name, was admitted immediately. "Well, miss, said she, (putting on a severe countenance) what is your business with me?" "I am afraid, madam, replied I, that your ladyship will think my business very impertinent; but, however trifling it may appear to you, 'tis certainly of some consequence to me. I would fain be informed, madam, what reason the countess has for fixing the most barbarous aspersion upon me, which, if believed, must inevitably ruin my character, and make me despised by all who have any pretensions to virtue and modesty."

"The countess, replied her ladyship, has very sufficient reasons for thinking you lost to every principle of honor. Can a girl, like you, pretend to either modesty or virtue, who could invite a young fellow into her chamber, fasten the door upon him, and make him the most indecent advances? Certainly, child, if you are not yet a prostitute, you bid fair for being one in a very little time. You begin early, indeed, to run the race of infamy." "Then it should seem, madam, answered I, (very calmly) that my accuser is that very young fellow, who had the grace to slight the advances I made him!" "Yes, interrupted she, he has done us the favor to discover the wicked inclinations which lie hid under that appearance of innocence and virtue, and make me ashamed of having taken such a one under my protection." "But, madam, answered I, such an accusation from the mouth of Repoli, (for I think it can be no other than him you mean) would find difficulty in meeting with belief from persons less severely virtuous than the countess and your ladyship. Such instances of sublime chastity in young men, in this degenerate age, are very rare!" "He did not like you, interrupted her ladyship, (blushing with anger at the sarcastic manner in which I spoke) and he had too great a respect for my sister to dishonor a person under her protection. But, pursued she, (lowering her voice, as if conscious of the dignity of the person of whom she spoke) there was some one else, whom you had spread your impudent snares for." "I know what your ladyship means, madam, said I, (smiling maliciously:) and since there was a necessity for producing a Joseph in the house, in order to fix a guilt, something resembling Potipher's wife, upon me, methinks it would have sat better upon the reverend gentleman your ladyship hints at, than a young abandoned libertine like Repoli; whose aversion to me did not commence, till I had discovered the utmost contempt and scorn for the insolent addresses he presumed to make me, and which hardly any one in the house is ignorant of. As for the rest, madam, I refer your ladyship to Mrs. Ellis, who can inform you of the villainous attempt this mirror of chastity made on my honor. But I beg your ladyship's pardon, for supposing you will give yourself any further trouble to come at the truth of this affair. The story is mighty consistent, and will meet, no doubt, with great credit. But your ladyship, indeed, will draw some advantage from believing and propagating it; as it will free you from a person, whom your ladyship, no doubt, considers as a troublesome dependent, and silence any reflections that might otherwise be made, on the breaking a promise I never solicited the performance of." Saying this, I left the room immediately; not without having first observed the tempest of rage which was gathering on her brow, and which would have possibly vented itself in something more cruel and injurious than what I had yet heard.

As soon as I got into the coach, I made it hurry me to my dear Mrs. Dormer's; to whom I related all that had happened, with a flood of tears. "Indeed, my dear, said she, did not your affliction give me a very sensible concernI should be tempted to laugh at the strange and unaccountable Story they have raised against you. Methinks Lady Cecilia's wit, and peculiar genius for scandal, might have invented something more probable, to ruin the reputation of a young lady, whom it was necessary she should quarrel with. What, does she think any body will believe an impudent libertine, like this Repoli, could be capable of slighting the advances of a young lovely creature, for whom he avowed a passion? Such a self-denial might appear consistent in the character of a mortified anchorite; but it will be very difficult to persuade any one, who has common sense, that a rake could be capable of acting in this manner." Mrs. Dormer added many other reasons to persuade me, that this scandal must necessarily fall of itself; but the eloquence of a Cicero, on this occasion, would have had less influence upon me than the silent testimony of my own conscience. Secure in my own untainted innocence, I could look down with scorn on the mean attempts of vice and infamy to degrade me to an equality with itself; and conscious virtue alone, enabled me to triumph over the base arts of my powerful accusers.

Mrs. Dormer, to whom my misfortunes had but the more endeared me, would not suffer me to lodge out of the house. My apartment having been let while I was at the countess's, she obliged me to stay with her. The friendship with which she favored me, made me repose an entire confidence in her. I related all the accidents of my life, and did not conceal even my engagement with Dumont. The generosity of her soul inclined her to pity the unsuccessful passion of Mr. Campbel; yet she could not refuse her esteem to the character I gave of my beloved Dumont, and confessed that he merited the preference I gave him.

"I am so much obliged to you, my dear, said she one day, for the unlimited trust you have favored me with, that I can do no less than return it in kind, and acquaint you with the history of my life. I have been unfortunate both in love and marriage; a maid, a widow, and a wife, at the same time. A strange paradox, you'll say; but the sequel of my story will convince you, that in my person was united the extremes of wretchedness, which all these characters could sustain."

My father, who was born to a very large paternal estate, possessed also some of the most eminent dignities in the law. I was the eldest of three children, and favored with a peculiar indulgence from my father and mother, as I was the only daughter. In these early years of my life, pursued Mrs. Dormer, (with a smile) I was reckoned tolerably handsome. The reputation of my charms, joined to the fortune my father was able to give me, brought me a number of adorers; some of whom, for their rank and fortune, were highly acceptable to my father and mother. But my heart felt no tender emotions for any of them: and so great was my father's indulgence, that, in talking to me on the subject of my marriage, he always expressed himself like a tender friend, solicitous for my happiness, without ever mixing the authority of a parent, or giving the least hint that he expected, in such an affair, a negative voice should not be allowed me.

Alas, how ill did I repay this excess of goodness! The only man in the world whom my father would have forbidden me to think of, became the object of my love. The father of this young gentleman had formerly addressed my mother, at the same time that mine was courting her. This laid a foundation for that enmity between them, which my father's success in marrying the lady, for whom they contended, increased. Mr. Wilmot, after this, took all occasions to discover the deep aversion he had for my father; and it was with great difficulty that they were prevented from sealing their resentment in each other's blood.

The son of this gentleman happened to meet me at a visit to a young lady of my acquaintance. He had just come from making the tour of Europe ; and appeared so agreeable in my eyes, notwithstanding he was the son of an enemy, that I could not refuse him my esteem. I soon found I had made some impression on his heart: he scarce ever took his eyes off my face while I staid; and, when I took leave, handed me to my chair, making me some very obliging compliments on the happiness my company had afforded him.

My thoughts were engrossed by this agreeable youth all night: I found so much sweetness in the hope of being beloved by him, that I never considered the enmity of our two fathers. The soft passion, which was kindling in my heart, inspired only the most flattering ideas; and representing the young Wilmot in every favorable and engaging light, assured me, that my father, won by the merit of his sacrificing his hereditary hatred to the affection he bore me, would not oppose our mutual happiness. I reasoned in this manner, from a perfect conviction that my eyes had inevitably wounded this too lovely enemy; and my heart was exulting with the most pleasing hopes, when my maid, entering my chamber, delivered me a letter from Mr. Wilmot, which contained a most passionate declaration of love. My mother came into the room, just as I had finished reading this welcome confirmation of the hopes with which I flattered myself: at sight of her I blushed, and would have concealed my lover's letter in my pocket; but she, holding my hand, asked me, with a smile, what paper it was I was so earnest to hide. As I could possibly make no evasion, that would secure me from some suspicion, I gave her the letter, telling her at the same time, that, as I had never seen the writer of it but once, and had given him no sort of encouragement to address me in that manner, I hoped, if it was a crime, she would not think me accessory to it. "You are certainly guilty of no crime, said she, (with an air of good humor) in having, as I find by this letter, forced the son of your father's enemy to acknowledge the power of your charms. You have now a good opportunity to revenge the injuries Mr. Dormer complains of, in the person of a man who can't but be hateful to him, as descended from his old enemy and rival."

My mother looked earnestly in my face as she pronounced these words I blushed excessively, and was pierced to the heart by the cruel disappointment they gave me; for, from her, at least, I expected less reluctance to an alliance, which would reconcile our houses, and which, in point of fortune, greatly exceeded the most sanguine hopes they could entertain for me. I therefore continued silent, with my eyes fixed on the ground. My mother, observing the changes in my countenance, asked me, if any thing she had said disturbed me. "I am almost tempted to believe, Polly, said she, that this young Wilmot is but too agreeable to you. However, don't be afraid to discover your sentiments: I promise you I will not acquaint your father with any thing that may draw his anger upon you." Since you are so good, madam, replied I, (blushing still more than before) to allow me to declare myself freely, I must confess, that I do not hate this young gentleman; and, if my father could be brought to approve his addresses, it might be the happy means of reconciling him to Mr. Wilmot, and free you from any future alarms upon the account of that resentment, which subsists between them." "You have spoke my thoughts, replied my mother, (embracing me). I rejoice sincerely at this event. If Mr. Wilmot can bring his father to consent to your union, I doubt not but my influence with Mr. Dormer will prevail upon him to remit the long hatred he has bore him. Your father cannot be insensible to the advantages of such an offer." "What answer, then, madam, interrupted I, shall I send to this letter?" "Let me see, child, said she, (looking over it again) he desires you would condescend to see him at the same young lady's today. Well, you may go; but take care not to own, that you have mentioned this matter to me. I would not have him imagine, there will be less difficulty in gaining us over than his father."

You may be assured, miss, pursued Mrs. Dormer, that my mother's approbation was highly agreeable to me. I went to the house of my friend, whom I found Mr. Wilmot had engaged to speak in his behalf. She kept me a long while from the sight of my lover, who was in another parlor, enumerating the many advantages that would arise from our mutual affection. At last, finishing a discourse, which I could not then help thinking tedious, she led me into the room where Mr. Wilmot was.

The excessive joy which my complying with his request, in meeting him, spread over his countenance, relieved me, by a pleasing sensation, from the confusion that had dyed my cheeks with a deep blush. I found myself, in a little time, quite reassured; and the few minutes private conversation I had with him, so effectually convinced me that his passion was perfectly sincere, that I made no scruple to own the effect his merit had wrought in my heart. We parted with a thousand assurances of mutual fidelity; and I went home to give my mother an account of what had passed. She permitted me, in a few weeks after, to acknowledge to him, that I had acquainted her with his passion; and that she had promised to use her good offices with my father, provided Mr. Wilmot could prevail upon his to make the first proposal of a marriage between us.

My lover confessed, that he had not ventured yet to acquaint his father with his affection; but that he would, very soon, solicit his consent to our alliance, as the only means of making him happy. My mother, in the mean time, hinted the affair to my father, who replied at first with much heat; but at last, by her artful reasoning, was brought to say, that, if Mr. Wilmot would condescend to mention the affair first to him, he would consider of it.

I easily foresaw, that my lover's father would insist upon the same punctilio, and looked upon this declaration as a bar to all our hopes. However, I was much deceived in supposing that he was, in the least, inclined to favor his son's passion. My lover, after having for some time evaded the repeated requests I made to him to speak to his father, at last confessed, with the deepest concern, that he had threatened him with his eternal displeasure, if ever he dared to mention such a proposal again. "Yet, my dearest angel, pursued my lover, the cruel opposition my father makes to my union with you, can never prevail upon me to renounce my title to your heart. I never will be any other than yours; and, if you will consent to give me your hand privately, we'll put it out of the power of fate to part us."

This proposal, at first, filled me with horror; but love, more powerful than all the ties of duty, made me consent to it. I trembled, lest I should lose him for ever, if I refused to give him this instance of my affection; and desired a few days to consider of it. In which time my lover informed me, that he was going to spend a few months in Paris, having some affairs of consequence to manage there; and that he did not dare to refuse the absolute commands of his father, who, he believed, would have taken this journey himself, but that he feared his son still held a correspondence with me, and, by his absence, would be at liberty to prosecute it with more freedom.

There needed no more to make me come to a resolution. The idea of parting with him, e're I had fixed him mine, was not to be born! In that moment, forgetting all I owed to duty, and the indulgence of a father, who had suffered, without any marks of displeasure, my refusal of several matches that he had approved, I listened only to the dictates of my tenderness, and promised to marry him before he went away. As I had no reason to imagine my mother would approve of such a precipitate step, I resolved not to ask her consent; and only in the presence of the young lady, at whose house I first saw Mr. Wilmot, and my own maid, was joined to my lover, by, as I thought, the most indissoluble ties. Alas! heaven, who beheld this act of disobedience with horror, made my fatal marriage the source of the most cruel misfortunes.

When the ceremony was over, I went home, filled with a thousand perplexing inquietudes. I could not see my dear father, whose tenderness I had so abused, without feeling a painful remorse. My husband insisted upon visiting me in the evening; and, as my maid was privy to the secret, I could find no presence for refusing him: he therefore came privately to my chamber. My mother, who had allowed him to see me there, was not surprised that he came to take his leave; for he was to set out for Paris the next day. But as I knew his intention was to stay all night, which I was positively resolved to prevent, I made a sign to my mother not to leave the room. She, who thought I had some very urgent reason for this caution, never offered to stir. It grew late: my father was expected in every moment, and would be surprised to find her out of her chamber; she, therefore, put Mr. Wilmot in mind that it was time to retire. She was obliged to repeat this hint several times, before he thought proper to take any notice of it. At last, he rose from his chair, and, saluting my mother, took a cold leave of me; giving me, at the same time, a look that expressed how much he was disobliged at my behavior.

When he was gone, my mother asked me, if he had ever treated me in a manner unbecoming the respect he owed me, that I was afraid to trust myself alone with him. I evaded this question as well as I was able, by telling her I was afraid, if we had parted in private, my tenderness might have betrayed me into too great weakness. She appeared satisfied with this answer; and lamented, with some warmth, the obstinacy of both our fathers, who seemed determined to prevent our union. Her affection for me, made her wish nothing more ardently than to see me married to a man she thought so deserving my tenderness, and whose fortune was so greatly above what mine entitled me to.

When my mother left me, and I was at liberty to reflect on the reproachful look my dear Wilmot gave me, I found something so painful in the fear of having offended him, that I passed the whole night in tears; and did not enjoy a moment's rest till I had a letter, which, as it was wrote in the warmest stile of tenderness, convinced me my innocent fraud was forgiven, and that I was still passionately beloved. For two months he continued to write constantly to me by every post; but I could not help observing, that he carefully avoided the stile of a husband, and never once acknowledged, by the most distant hint, that I was his wife. Upon my first making this reflection, I was extremely uneasy; but imagining that he thought this reserve necessary, for fear of a discovery, or that he designed I should show these letters to my mother, who approved of our mutual tenderness, I silenced any suspicions to the prejudice of his love, and waited with a tender impatience for his return; he having now greatly exceeded the time in which he proposed to see me again.

While I was torturing my imagination to find reasons for his stay, I accidentally heard that he was gone to Italy; and that his father had given him leave to spend some years abroad, which he had earnestly requested. The affliction this news occasioned me, was but too visible in my looks and behavior; yet none in the family, but my mother, could guess the cause. She indeed rightly concluded, that Wilmot's absence was the ground of my uneasiness; but she did not imagine that I was lamenting the cruel perfidy of a husband, and not the indifference of a lover.

I now never heard from him at all: I knew not where to direct to him; and my resentment at his treachery, helped to free my heart from the torturing passion I had felt for him. All my care was to conceal my unfortunate marriage from my father. I loaded my maid with presents; but I had no reason to bribe her to be faithful: she continued so till her death, which happened two years after the departure of my faithless husband. Fate seemed resolved to put it out of my power to claim him; for the clergyman who married me, and the young lady my friend, the other witness of my unhappy nuptials, both died within a few months of each other.

My mother, who extremely resented the indifference I complained of in Mr. Wilmot, pressed me incessantly to drive him from my heart. I was still solicited and addressed by a number of lovers. My father often told me, he expected I would fix my choice; and filled me with inexpressible terror, when he threatened to abandon me for ever, if he found my aversion for marriage proceeded from any secret hope of being united to the son of his enemy. Who would imagine, that a heart, filled with the deepest resentment against the sex, for the base usage I had received from one man, should ever again become a victim to love!

As I have always considered every misfortune that has befallen me, in consequence of my marriage, as a just punishment for the crime of it, I am inclined to believe that providence permitted this fatal weakness, to make my sufferings more poignant.

A young gentleman named Clayton, who possessed every grace of mind and person, and who was master of a very large fortune, asked my father's permission to make his addresses to me. I had often viewed him with a particular delight; yet I only fancied I paid the same tribute of admiration to his merit, which it exacted from all who knew him. When my father mentioned his proposal to me, an involuntary transport, for a moment, took possession of my heart: but, recollecting my unhappy situation, a sigh unwillingly escaped me; and when I declined receiving a visit from him, in the quality of a lover, my face was overspread with blushes.

My father, observing my confusion, attributed it to what really was the cause, a secret liking of this young gentleman: but, a little offended at the disingenuity of my answer, he told me, with some sternness, that he would allow me to trifle no longer; and that Mr. Clayton was he, of all who had addressed me, whom he approved of most, and, therefore, he expected I should accustom myself to think of him with esteem. I saw my father expected I would now explain myself, which, to avoid, I begged for a few days to consider of what he had said; and retired to my room, oppressed with inconceivable affliction.

My heart had been too well acquainted with the soft emotions of love, to be any longer ignorant that I felt for Mr. Clayton all that passion could inspire; but my virtue took the alarm at this discovery. Mr. Wilmot, though he disclaimed the title, was still my husband. Could I rob him of any part of my affection, without an injury to my honor? I could find many instances, among my acquaintance, of wives who preserved an unblemished tenderness for husbands that loaded them with affronts; and it was not impossible but Mr. Wilmot might return to a sense of honor and justice, and restore me to the place I ought to hold in his affection. With this sort of reasoning I endeavored to vanquish the flame that consumed me: but, alas! it increased by opposition; and all I could do, was to preserve the secret in my own breast. And, convinced that my father would never force me to marry against my inclination, I resolved to declare I had an unalterable aversion for Mr. Clayton. Alas! what pain did it not give me to dissemble in this manner! but my honor demanded this cruel sacrifice of me. And, amidst the severest pangs of my own heart, I would reflect, with a gloomy kind of pleasure, that this fatal love justly revenged the disobedience I had been guilty of; and, considering my sufferings in that light, I resolved to support them with submission and fortitude.

My father, amazed at the dislike I expressed for Mr. Clayton, discovered his displeasure in harsher terms than ever he had used to me; and declaring, that he expected I should endeavor to change my sentiments, permitted Mr. Clayton to have frequent opportunities of conversing with me alone. The respectful passion, the lively ardor of this too dangerous lover, put all my constancy to proof. I was cruel to the best and faithfullest of men, to preserve myself just to one of the worst. Severe necessity! fatal law! which my too rigid virtue imposed on me.

I had so well counterfeited a fixed indifference, or rather dislike, for Mr. Clayton, that my father began to despair of ever seeing me in a disposition to obey him willingly; when one night, as we were sitting at upper, a servant of Mr. Clayton's came to inform us, that his master, who had been that day at Richmond with another gentleman, had fallen Off his horse coming home, and was so much hurt that his life was despaired of My senses immediately forsaking me, at this terrible news, I fell back in my chair, after breathing a deep sigh; and continued so long in a swoon, that the whole family was greatly alarmed. My affection for my Clayton could now be no longer a secret; and my obstinate refusal of him was matter of surprise, to all who knew any thing of the affair.

I was put to bed extremely ill; and, conscious of the fatal discovery I had made, my disorder was increased by the terrible apprehensions with which I was tortured. My lover, however, in a few days was declared out of danger. In spite of myself, my eyes betrayed the transport I felt at the prospect of his recovery. My mother took occasion to question me upon this strange contradiction in my behavior; but, though I could easily evade her inquiries, I could not, with the same facility, satisfy my father. He declared, that, as I was past the power of denying my affection for Mr. Clayton, the reluctance I expressed for marrying him must arise from some cause I was afraid to own; and he left it to my choice, either to marry him as soon as he was recovered, or disclose the reasons I had for refusing to accept, for a husband, the man whom I had given convincing proofs that I passionately loved. I saw it was impossible to avoid either inevitable ruin, or shame and infamy, but by applying to the generosity of my lover.

When he was able to leave his room, he came to pay me a visit; and, having heard something of my extraordinary concern for his illness, his looks and words expressed the most tender transport. As I was going to require him to make a sacrifice of his passion, to the cruel necessity my engagement with Mr. Wilmot laid me under, to banish him for ever, I made it a point of honor to acquaint him with the true state of my heart: I related to him succinctly the whole affair of my marriage with Mr. Wilmot, his base perfidy, and the resentment it had filled me with; and acknowledged, blushing, that my sense of his merit was so great, that, if my situation could have permitted it, I would never have been any other than his; but as I could never consider myself as freed from my engagements to Mr. Wilmot, by his ungenerous usage of me, the quality of his wife made it highly injurious to my honor to hear the language of love from any other man; and, whatever pain it would cost me, I was determined to avoid his sight. "But, added I, (melting into tears) 'tis from your generosity alone that I can expect to conceal my fatal marriage from my father; which, if known, would deprive me for ever of his affection. Let our parting seem wholly your fault: invent some presence for proceeding no farther in your addresses, and, by this generous action, force me to confess that you, of all men in the world, deserve my affection best."

"Yes, madam, said my lover, (looking on me with eyes, in which surprise and grief were visibly painted) I will undertake this hard task to serve you, since you command it. You shall suffer no reproaches from Mr. Dormer upon my account." "There needs not, sir, said my father (coming out of a closet, where he had hid himself to hear our discourse) there needs not this generous artifice to shield this degenerate girl from my indignation, unworthy as she is of my blood and name. From this moment I disclaim her! Fly, wretch! (pursued he to me, with a voice full of fury) fly from my sight, lest my just rage urge me to wash away my dishonor in thy blood. Go to that infamous husband who disclaims thee, and never hope that I will acknowledge thee for my child, or behold thee more while I have life." Saying this, he rushed out of the room.

My lover following him, to endeavor if possible to appease him, I remained for some moments so astonished with the greatness of my misfortune, that I lost even the power of reflecting upon my unhappy condition. My mother's woman, coming into the room, told me, with tears, that her lady desired to let me know, that I had involved her also in my father's displeasure; and that there was a necessity for my quitting the house immediately; for my father had sworn that I should not stay a moment longer. "Where did my mother order me to go, Bell?" said I, with my heart almost breaking with affliction. "I am ordered, madam, said she, to attend you to my sister's, whose house, as she is the widow of a clergyman, and lives in a private manner, her ladyship thinks will be the most proper to take an apartment in for you, till my master can be brought to see you." "Let me go, then, Bell, said I, (rising, my eyes all drowned in tears) let me go where I may be at liberty to indulge my sorrows. I was born to be miserable, and must fulfill my destiny." Saying this, I went down stairs, and steps into a hackney coach, that was waiting at the door; for my father would not allow me to use his upon this occasion. Bell, who accompanied me, ordered the coachman, in a whisper, to drive to Mrs. Waller's in Jermyn-street, where we soon arrived.

I had never seen this gentlewoman before; but her looks were so friendly and benevolent, that my affliction was soothed at her sight. My mother's woman acquainted her sister with what was necessary she should know of my situation, and agreed for my board and lodging with her; she having a very genteel apartment to let, which was the only one in which she received any lodger. I was not permitted to have my own maid to attend me, that had lived with me at my father's; but one was hired that knew nothing of my affairs.

The friendly Mrs. Waller omitted no consolations, in her power to offer me. Alas! in my distressed condition, what comfort could I admit of! abandoned for ever by a once indulgent father, tortured with a despairing passion for the most generous of men, and doomed to bear the worst of indignities from another, to whom I had sacrificed all my hopes of happiness! I resigned myself up to the most piercing grief; and had no other hope, but that death would shortly free me from all my calamities.

Three weeks after my being placed with this worthy widow, I had the satisfaction to have a letter from my mother, which acquainted me, that she was reconciled to my father; but it was upon the hard condition of never seeing or speaking to me. However, she gave me hopes that she would not deny either me or herself that comfort, when she could, with safety, make me a visit. I also heard, at the same time, that Mr. Wilmot's father was dead; and the generous Clayton was waiting with impatience for the return of my husband, who was expected soon in England, to force him to do me justice, and acknowledge me for his wife.

This striking instance of the purest and most disinterested passion, that ever man was capable of feeling, afforded me only subject for complaint against the cruelty of my fortune, which had deprived me of the power of answering so shining an example of unfeigned affection. I trembled for the resolution he had taken, to force my unworthy husband to own me; and fearing every thing from a man, who could be capable of acting in so base a manner as Mr. Wilmot had done, my thoughts were continually filled with the most frightful apprehensions.

I had so accustomed myself to think of all the horrors, which might necessarily arise from a meeting between my lover and my husband, 'that when my mother's woman came to me, and, with a look of consternation and melancholy, told me, that my husband and Mr. Clayton had come to some explanation about the affair of my marriage, "Ah! replied I, (screaming) then one of them is dead!" "You have guessed too truly, madam, said Bell, one of them is dead, indeed; but 'tis he who deserved to fall, your perfidious husband, who, to the last moment of his life, persisted in disowning you." She had scarce uttered these dreadful words, when I fell into a fainting fit; and was no sooner recovered from that, than another followed: and I continued the whole day in such a deplorable condition, that my mother, alarmed by her woman's account of the danger to which my despair had reduced me, came to my lodgings, and, weeping over me with an excess of tenderness, conjured me to sacrifice my affliction, for the death of an unworthy husband, to the hope of being restored to my father's affection, which she did not despair of soon accomplishing.

"Ah, madam, said I, base as Mr. Wilmot was, yet still he was my husband; and thougheven the strictest laws of duty might dispense with my grieving for his death, who treated me so injuriously; yet my nature tender and susceptible of melancholy impressions, starts with horror at the thoughts of murder. Will not his blood cry out for vengeance on me, who was the fatal cause that it was shed!" "Speak not so injuriously interrupted my mother, of that justice which brought him to his end The generous Mr. Clayton expostulated first mildly with your betrayer and urged him to vindicate your injured honor, and fulfill your engage meets, by owning you for his wife. He answered, that you had basely deceived him; and, having never returned the affection he once had for you, meant only to make him a convenient property. He added many other barbarous invectives. A quarrel ensued, and ----." "Ah, madamcried I, (bursting into tears) spare the shocking repetition. Poor, unfortunate Wilmot! Can I choose but lament thy death! And ought I not to give some tears to the misfortune of him, who, perhaps, must die to expiate the guilt of thy fate!" "No, interrupted my mother, Mr. Clayton is resolved to stand a trial; and thoughhe had not such powerful friends as his own merit, and your father's interest is able to procure him, yet the justice of his cause would free him."

In effect dear miss, pursued Mrs. Dormer (whose eyes had for some time been bathed in tears, as well as my own) Mr. Clayton stood his trial, and was honorably acquitted: and this affair being the talk of the whole town, every one agreed that I ought to give him my hand, being the only recompense by which a love so faithful could be repaid. My father condescended to write to me upon this subject; and made it the only condition, by which his pardon could be obtained, to marry Mr. Clayton. My affection for this dear lover, put it past a doubt that I should gladly embrace this offer; but I could never persuade myself, that it was consistent with my religion, my virtue, or reputation, to marry the man that had killed my husband, though, by that act, he had only justly punished his crime in disowning me.

I will not pretend to give you any idea of the painful conflicts I suffered in my soul, while my excessive tenderness for Mr. Clayton, and regard to the memory of my unhappy husband, held the balance between love and duty. However, I did not waver long; but determined to fall a victim to the severe rules I had prescribed myself. I wrote an answer to my father's letter, full of submission and remorse for having offended him by my fatal marriage; explained my reasons for declining to accept Mr. Clayton for a husband; and concluded with most earnest entreaties for his pardon) and a request that he would inform Mr. Clayton of my resolution, and absolute promise, that, since I could not be his, I never would be another's. My father was pleased to say, when he had read my letter that he was so struck with the uncommon greatness of my mind, that he pardoned me from that instant, and restored me to the place I had formerly possessed in his affection. I was immediately sent for home, where I fell at his feet, and embraced them with tears of joy, sorrow, and contritionwhich, from all these motives, flowed from my eyes.

My lover, being acquainted with my resolution, did not attempt to Oppose it; but only entreated to see me once more, being determined, as he said, to go abroad, and endeavor to bury the remembrance of his unfortunate passion. All that was touching and mournful, on both sides, passed at this interview. I repeated to him, with tears, what I had before vowed to my father, that, since it was impossible I could be his, I would never be another's. And he likewise protested, that he would faithfully preserve my image in his heart; and changing, if possible, the ardent passion, he now felt for me, into a tender friendship, return and pass the rest of his life in that delightful commerce, which this calmer affection would yield.

When he was gone, my father and mother omitted nothing in their power to remove the painful grief which still engrossed me. Their endeavors, in time, produced the effect they desired: I recovered part of my usual gaiety; but still continued firm in my resolution never to marry, which nothing yet has been able to change. My father died two years after the departure of my lover; of whose death also I had an account, while I was still lamenting the loss of my father. He had divided his whole fortune equally between his two sisters and me, which made a very considerable addition to that my father left me.

During the life of my mother, I remained constantly with herd but her death plunging me into all my former disquiets, to soften them, in some measure, by a variety of new objects and the hurry of travel, I went to Paris; and, after seeing all that was remarkable in that court, I visited Italy, Holland, and the German Spa. And continuing a considerable time in these places, I returned to England, having acquired strength of mind enough to reflect on my misfortunes with calmness and resignation, and to pass the rest of my life in ease and tranquillity."

Mrs. Dormer here ended her story, leaving me in the most perfect admiration of her virtue and fortitude, which I expressed in terms equal to that esteem she had inspired me with. "No, miss, said she, (modestly interrupting me) I do not deserve the praises you load me with. My misfortunes had their rise from disobedience first. How differently, in that respect, have I behaved from you, who, at the most tender age, was capable of sacrificing your passion to duty." Mrs. Dormer accompanied these words with an affectionate look, which convinced me what she said was not a mere compliment of form; and I was prevented from replying, by the arrival of Mr. Campbel, who had received orders from his uncle to go on board his ship immediately, they being to sail upon a cruise.

My lover, when he informed me that he was come to take his leave, discovered so much despair in his looks and words, that I was deeply affected. "How happy, sir, said I, should I think myself, if, instead of that fatal passion which disturbs your quiet, you would only favor me with such sentiments as I have it in my power to return. Whatever the most sincere friendship can demand, my heart is disposed to pay. Your merit, and the obligations you have laid on me, claim this; but if I appear ungrateful to your love, be assured that ----." I would have proceeded; but my confusion was so great, at having, unawares, engaged myself almost into a confession of my attachment to another, that I held down my head, while my face was in an instant covered with blushes.

"Ah miss! replied Mr. Campbel, (who had earnestly gazed on me for some moments) I have no right to expect you should throw yourself into any embarrassment, to excuse your insensibility to me! My unhappiness, in being absolutely indifferent to you, has been long known to me. If that knowledge could have made me love you less, I should, e're this, have been at ease. However, I beg you to believe, that, as I prefer your happiness greatly to my own, my despair in losing you will be somewhat alleviated by the assurance that your felicity demanded me to be the sacrifice. "

Mrs. Dormer, who sat at the other end of the room, observing my extreme confusion at the discourse Mr. Campbel held with me, joined us, in order to introduce a more general conversation. Upon which my lover, shortening his visit, took his leave of us with tears in his eyes; and left me so excessively moved, with the tenderness and generosity of his sentiments, that it was a long time before I was capable of reassuming my usual gaiety.

The ships being again returned from N----, brought me letters from my mother and sisters, with the agreeable news, that my dearest Fanny was married to a gentleman of good fortune there; and that her husband, proposing to return to England in a few months, she and my mother would very soon have the satisfaction of meeting me again. When my joy, at the thoughts of seeing persons so dear to me, was a little moderated, I began to feel some surprise at not having another letter from Dumont. I passed some days in the most terrible uneasiness, being convinced that nothing but neglect could be the cause of my not hearing from him, as we had settled the conveyance of our letters to each other with the utmost security; so that I could not imagine it had, by any accident, missed me.

I was talking one day to Mrs. Dormer, upon the subject of my fears, when one of that lady's servants came into the room, and informed me there was a gentleman below, who inquired for miss Harriot Stuart. Mrs. Dormer, imagining I should hear news of my lover, cast a pleasing smile upon me; and asked her servant, if he had strewn the gentleman into a room. Upon hearing he was in one of the parlors, I immediately went down stairs, with my heart trembling with expectation. But , my dear Amanda! guess my excess of transport and surprise, when, the servant opening the door, I saw my beloved Dumont himself advancing eagerly to meet me! I steps back a few paces, lost in astonishment at a sight I so little expected; when my transported lover, catching me in his arms, pressed me to his bosom with an ardent embrace; while I, reclining my head upon his breast, suffered the soft pressure of his glowing lips upon my face, which was covered with tears of joy.

We continued for some moments in this posture, while, he still grasping me closer in his arms, I had neither the strength or inclination to get loose. Recollecting myself at last, and blushing at the liberty I had indulged myself in, I sprung in an instant from the dear enclosure, and, obliging him to be seated, asked a hundred questions in a breath; while my lover, with a look of mingled tenderness and delight, sat gazing on me in a speechless transport, unable to give utterance to the flow of melting thoughts which seemed to crowd into his mind. I had now so well recovered myself from my first emotions, that I rallied, in a lively accent, the sublime silence with which he repaid my eager curiosity to hear all that had happened to him since I left N----. He spoke at last; but, for a long time, all he said was in the language of transport, sweet unintelligible discourse, which the soft melting eloquence of his eyes were only able to explain.

I understood at length, that he had concealed his change of religion, with the utmost care, from his father; who, if he had suspected it, would not have allowed him to come to England: that his relations here, believing he intended to fulfill his engagements with his cousin, had received him with great joy. He added, that that young lady was in a very weak state of health; and thoughhe had formerly reason to believe she had a very tender regard for him, yet she discovered so little sensibility at his coming, that he was convinced he might, with safety, acquaint her with the change in his principles; and, as she was generous and virtuous to excess, prevail upon her to let the dissolving their contract appear her own act; by which means he would not be obliged to forfeit the largest moiety of his fortune, which, in case of his refusal, would be insisted upon by her uncle.

"My delicacy, pursued my lover, suggested to me, that I ought not to see you 'till I could procure a certainty, that I should not bring an indigent wretch to your arms. But eager love could not be with-held by forms, since I may flatter myself with being still beloved by my adorable Harriot, though I should fail in my scheme of preserving my fortune; yet if she will not refuse the blessing of her hand, we shall still have enough to make us perfectly happy."

My lover concluding these words with a tender embrace, I gave him a short account of what had happened to me. And remembering, after a conversation of two hours, that Mrs. Dormer must necessarily be surprised at my long stay, I asked his permission to introduce him to this dear friend, to which he readily consented; and I ran up stairs immediately, in order to prepare her for receiving a visit from a person, whom I had already taught her to esteem.

I found her in her dressing-room; resolved, when she had finished dressing, out of an impatience to know if it was not my lover below with me, to step into the parlor before she went into her chair. I then told her, if her engagement abroad was not very urgent, I would beg her to allow me to introduce Mr. Dumont to her, who was really the person that had sent for me. "What, is he below still? said she. Let me see him, I beseech you: I am eager to know, if he is really worthy the possession of a heart like yours." I made her no answer, being convinced she would no sooner see him than she would be ready to confess, he exceeded the most lovely idea her imagination could form: and, indeed, the moment he appeared, and saluted her, with that irresistible grace which charmed all who beheld him, she turned to me with a speaking look, which seemed to say, she was agreeably surprised at the uncommon beauty of his person; and I had the pleasure to observe, she was no less struck with his lively wit, and the peculiar graces of his manner.

The conversation, in a little time, growing quite unreserved, Mrs. Dormer told my lover, with an obliging smile, That, as she was well acquainted with all our affairs, she expected he would visit me there with entire freedom. "And, till you rob me, pursued she, of my sweet friend, you must be contented that I share her conversation with you." Dumont replied with much complaisance to this obliging discourse, and, after a long visit, took his leave; telling Mrs. Dormer, he would use the liberty to call every day for the future, which she assured him would be highly agreeable to us both.

When he was gone, she did not give me time to ask her opinion of him; but, after telling me she thought his person the most lovely in the world, assured me, that she was no less pleased with the engaging qualities of his mind, which every look and word sufficiently declared.

My dear Dumont had promised to see me the next day, and I passed the tedious hours in a kind of sweet anxiety till he came I observed in his looks, the moment I saw him, a pensiveness that alarmed me; and, eagerly asking the cause, he told me, with some concern, that all his hopes of preserving the forfeiture of his estate was over. "I pursued my intention, said he, of making my cousin the confidant of my change, which seemed to affect her even less than I expected. She replied, that her uncle would not approve her marrying a Protestant; and frankly confessed, that the ill state of her health had weaned her thoughts from the world; and she hoped that I had, with the change of my religion, left also the sentiments I once had for her, and would freely consent to her living unmarried, which she was now firmly resolved to do.

You may be assured, my lovely Harriot, pursued my lover, that I did not attempt to alter her resolution. She pressed me to tell her, if my heart was not engaged to some young lady, who possibly was the first cause of my changing my principles: upon which I candidly related the history of our loves; and expressing my fears, lest her uncle should insist upon the moiety of my fortune, and reduce me to a state of indigence and necessity, I saw a tender sensibility in her eyes, which gave me hopes she would come into any measures, I could propose, to save me from this misfortune.

We had been so indiscreet to converse in this manner, without considering that the room where we were sitting was next to her uncle's writing-closet; from whence, if he was there, he might hear every word we had said. In effect, my angel, it really was so: he came out of the closet, with looks full of fury; and, as he is one of the most rigid Papists in the world, he thundered out the most dreadful denunciation of divine vengeance against me for my impious change, declaring that he would immediately write to my father, and pursue me to beggary, if possible. My cousin was so affected with the confusion this accident occasioned, that she fainted away; and I was too much concerned at the condition she was in, to be capable of calming the rage of her furious 'uncle. As soon as she was a little recovered, I hastened to you, my dearest Harriot, to unload my misfortunes on your dear bosom; and to conjure you to pardon my selfish passion, which makes me urge you to the performance of your promise to be mine, though I cannot place you in the situation your merit and birth deserve."

When I had tenderly chid my dear Dumont for the suspicion he seemed to entertain, that I could not be happy with him in any condition, I agreed to give him my hand in two or three weeks at farthest. Mrs. Dormer being consulted upon this occasion, she proposed to take me to her country-house, where the ceremony of our marriage might be performed with less noise; and she joining her reasons to the ardent entreaties of my lover, that I would not defer his happiness so long, I consented, at last, that we should be united in six days after. And, as soon as he left us, Mrs. Dormer gave orders to her servants to get every thing ready for our journey to Richmond the next morning.

As I had before agreed with my lover not to expect him till the day before our marriage, I was not surprised at my not seeing him; but in all that time I received no letter from him, which filled me with a mortal uneasiness. I struggled, however, with myself to conceal my disquiets, even from Mrs. Dormer, who sometimes expressed her surprise at his neglect. But the appointed day came, and my lover not appearing, I could no longer suppress my apprehensions. Mrs. Dormer, thoughexcessively alarmed, yet endeavored to compose my fears, by alleging, that, perhaps, some very extraordinary affairs detained him longer than he expected; and that, to-morrow being the day we had fixed for our marriage, he would certainly be with us early in the morning. "But why does he not write, madam? said I, (bursting into tears). Ah! you can never persuade me, that some fatal accident has not befallen him!"

Whatever arguments she could use to comfort me, were entirely fruit less. I passed the whole night in tears. When morning came, the agitations of my mind were so violent, that Mrs. Dormer proposed sending a servant to town, to go to his relation's house, which was in the midst of the city, and endeavor to give him a billet from me. I consented immediately to this expedient; and, having wrote a short letter to him, dispatched the servant away with it on horseback, with proper instructions to deliver the billet to none but Dumont himself. Mrs. Dormer, while he was away, endeavored to soften my anxious impatience, by telling me she hoped my lover would arrive before the servant returned. But, alas! the hours past away in vain expectation and racking fear! 'Twas late in the evening before the servant returned; while my heart, tortured with the most cruel anxiety, thought every moment an age. My friend was perpetually ringing the bell, to ask if her man was come back. At last, we were told he was just entered the house, and two moments after came into the room. Mrs. Dormer, observing I was not able to speak, asked the servant, hastily, if he had delivered the letter, "No, madam, said he, (holding it out to her) I could not see Mr. Dumont himself. His servant was called, and he told me his master was married the evening before; that he could not possibly speak to him, he being engaged in company: but that, if I would leave the letter with him, he would take an opportunity to deliver it. But as you commanded me, madam, to bring it back, if----" "Well, well, interrupted Mrs. Dormer, (seeing me ready to drop from my chair) you have done right: leave the room." Then, running to me, she held me up in her arms; and, forcing me to take some hartshorn, prevented me, with great difficulty, from falling into a swoon.

I will not trouble you, dear Amanda, with the complaints I made when I recovered the use of speech, which astonishment, grief, and despair, had for some time deprived me of. Mrs. Dormer knew too well, that to offer consolation, while my grief was yet new, would be in vain; she, therefore, contented herself with mingling her tears with mine, and echoing, with all the fervor of friendship, the epithets of base, perfidious, and ungrateful, with which I loaded the once dear Dumont. The torments I suffered this dreadful night, may be better imagined than described. That pride of spirit, which was natural to me when I received an affront, came however to my assistance on this cruel occasion; and, filling me with the sharpest resentment and disdain for the base infidelity of my lover, helped to fortify my heart against the first violent emotions of my grief. The resolution I had taken to see this betrayer once more, that I might upbraid him with his broken vows, gave me, in some intervals, a gloomy satisfaction. I eagerly longed for morning, that I might set out for London to execute this design; and, as soon as it appeared, I rose immediately, and, when I was drest, went into Mrs. Dormer's chamber to acquaint her with my intention. That lady, finding all the arguments she could use ineffectual to dissuade me, offered to bear me company; but this I absolutely refused. And, assuring her I would return the next day, she, with some reluctance, consented to my going; and gave orders for her chaise to be got ready. I left her so sensibly affected with this little parting, that I could not help expressing my surprise at it. Alas! I did not foresee that it would be long e're I should see her again, and that fortune was preparing the severest afflictions for me! I had ordered the servant to drive, with the utmost expedition, to town; but yet he went much too slow for my impatience. When we got to my friend's lodgings, the moment I alighted, one of the maid-servants informed me, that an elderly gentleman was inquiring for me, who said he brought some news from my mother. "Where is that gentleman? said I, (eagerly). Is he gone?" "No, miss, said she, (pointing to a person who stood in the hall, whom I had not observed before) that is the gentle man: he came in just before you." Upon this he advanced towards me, when, desiring him to follow me into a parlor, I asked him if he had any letters from my mother. "Don't be surprised, miss, said he, thoughyou should hear news you little expect. Your mother and youngest sister are now in London." "In London! cried I, (amazed). Can it be possible! Why, it is not a month ago since I heard from them, and they gave me no hopes I should see them so soon!" "Your mother, miss, replied he, embarked with your sister and her husband on board a ship, which sailed from N---- a few days after that which brought you the letters you speak of: your brother-in law having received some accounts from England, which obliged him to come away much sooner than he intended. I have the honor to be particularly acquainted with him and your sister, and came from N---- in the same ship with them. I left them all at the inn, where we arrived late last night; and, as I was obliged to be early in the morning at this end of the town, was desired to call here, and acquaint you with their arrival: and will, if you please, wait on you to the inn, where they impatiently expect you." I was so eager to see my mother and sister, that I did not hesitate a moment to comply with this offer. But resolving to defer sending a message to Dumont till an. other opportunity, congratulated myself on the prospect of having my dear Fanny to console me under this uneasiness; and stepping into the hackney-coach, which the gentleman came in, and which was still waiting at the door, we set forwards immediately for the place, to which my conductor ordered the coach-man to drive. As he seemed to be much in years, I was not surprised that he entreated me to let the windows, which were of wood, to be drawn up, complaining that the air was too cool for him; yet I did not like this situation with a stranger, and began to think our journey had lasted very long, when, the coach stopping of a sudden, my companion opened the door himself, and gave me his hand to help me down. I was so perfectly unacquainted with the town, that I did not take much notice that we were set down at a wharf near the bridge; but I followed the gentleman, still thinking the inn was somewhere thereabouts, when, all of a sudden, he lifted me up in his arms, and put me into a boat, that I had reason to imagine was expecting us. The watermen rowing immediately from the shore, e're my astonishment would give me leave to cry out for help, I found myself wholly abandoned to the power of the wretch who had betrayed me; and, not being able to imagine his reasons for thus imposing on me, I asked him, in a trembling voice, where he intended to carry me, and if it was true that he had been sent by my mother. I was surprised to hear him answer, in an authoritative tone, That I should know that presently; urging the watermen, at the same time, to make haste. "My God! cried I, what can this mean! Am I betrayed, then! Yet, alas! who can have any interest in thus trepanning me!" "Foolish girl, said the old man, hold thy peace: what I do is for your good." My amazement at this strange language, from a man who was perfectly unknown to me, filled me with a terror and confusion not easily to be described. I was pressing him, with tears, to unfold the mystery, when, our boat coming up close to a small vessel that was in the river, he, with the help of a man who stood at the side, forced me to ascend it, in spite of my loud cries and exclamations. I now gave myself over for lost; and, having too much reason to imagine that something fatal was designed against me, I resigned myself up to the most violent despair. The old man, who had exhorted me several times to patience, offered to lead me down stairs into the cabin, to avoid the sight of the men upon deck, who were taken up in gazing on us. "I know not, said I, (in an assured accent) for what purpose you have used this violence to me; but if, as I have too much reason to suspect, there is any design formed upon my honor, know, I am resolved to die in the defense of it." "Fear not, replied he, (in a low voice) that I would be accessory to such a villainous intention. I am no ruffian; and I admire the sentiment you have just now avowed: but I have very urgent reasons for getting your person in my power. The quiet of a whole family depended on it." Saying this, he gave me his hand to help me into the cabin; which I did not refuse, hoping I should prevail upon him to explain himself upon this dark affair. "I can't imagine, sir, said I, (when we were seated) how your seizing my person can promote the happiness of any people whatever; and before I pretend to expostulate with you, on the injustice of detaining me as your prisoner, and intention of conveying me far from my relations and country, I would fain know who those persons are, whose quiet I so innocently disturb, and to whom I am to be made a sacrifice?" "When you shall know, replied the old gentleman, that my name is Darcy, the uncle of that young lady to whom Mr. Dumont was engaged from his infancy, you will not be surprised that I have acted in this manner. Your artifices have seduced that young man to forsake the religion of his ancestors, in which he was bred, to espouse the doctrines of that heresy you profess, which must inevitably shut him out from salvation." "Ah! interrupted I, must my liberty be invaded upon the account of that perfidious man! Is he not married? What have you to fear from me?" "'Tis true, he is married, replied he; but it is to be feared, that the apprehensions of being a beggar made him consent to fulfill his engagement. And, since you have been the means of perverting his principles, and estranging his affections from her who had always a claim to them, it is fit you should be removed from his sight, that the endeavors of his wife and friends, to bring him back to the holy church he has forsaken, may have no obstructions from the fatal passion he had for you, and which your absence will not fail to extinguish." "Do you think, then, insolent as you are, said I, that I am capable of holding any correspondence with