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I am free to say, that within the appearance which generally distincircle of my female acquaintance, guishes the rustic race. iler eres your contributions are much ap- were dark, and sparkling with lusproved ; and that they, with my- tre and intelligence; her hair was self, hope long to be gratified with shining, wavy chestnut; her coma continuance of theu. Deem not plexion, clear brunette; her lips, this little panegyric venal praise, coral; her teeth, white and even ; nor do I wish you to thank me; and the bright vermilion of health you fairly claim it. Believe me, tinted her dinpled cheeks. sir, I do not suppose you so su- Julia, very soon after her arrival sceptible of flattery as Demosthe- at Delamore castle, had been in

It is said that he would troduced, by Lady Theodosia, at stand on tiptoe to hear an old Dame Banks' cottage. The rebasket-woman speak in his praise; berable dame soon captivated her and we hear also that Cicero pauted fancy; and, infinitely pleased with after eulogies of the whole Roman famy, she often visited them. people.

Muchas shie admired Fanny's If you, sir, expect to be immor- beauty, she was more particularly talized in your writing, (you will struck by her affectionate attenexcuse me) I would advise you to tion to her aged parent; and upon be less censorious—and not let the this girl, whose understanding and ignis futuus of Critique mislead manners seemed above her station, you.

Julia bestowed many marks of her I remain, with respect,

favour, and for which Fanny apSir, your most obsequions, peared inost truly grateful.

S. Y. Lucy had informed Julia, that Nov. 2, 1807.

'Fanny Banks had been most constant in coming to inquire after

her during the commencement of THE VICTIM OF SEDUCTION.

her illness; but in the latter and

most dangerous part of it had not [From the Norel of

come near the castle at all.' This "SANTO SUBASTIANO;' or,

the intelligence much surprised out Young PROTECTOR.) heroine ; and leading her to fear

that either Dame Banks or Fanny There lived in one of the neigh- herself was ill, she one morning bouring bamlets a most respecta- took Edward for her escort, and p'e woman, of the name of Banks, rambled to the dame's cottage. then in her eighty-first year, who She knocked several times at the had survived every individual of door, which, to her surprise, was her family except à grand-daugh- closed; and concluding, from reter, on whom her venerable yearsceiving no answer, that her apprefondly rested.

hensions were just, and that the Fanny Banks, this darling illness of one confined the other up grandehild, was then about twenty stairs, out of hearing of her knocks, years old, and uncommonly hand- she ventured to lift the latch and some ; for although her stature was enter; when, to her utter dismay, rather below the middle size, her she beheld the poor old dame, with figure was strikingly neat, without the pale and ghastly countenance the least of that cluinsy or athletic of horror and death, seated in ber

fort me.

high-backed wicker chair, hier dear dame! left alone, to your sorBible open on a table before her. rows ?-Alas! and Fanny could The ever-before neat hearth was leave you, and do, so wrong!' said now littered by the ashes of a fire, Julia, piteously. evidently not of that day. llastily • Ah ! dear me! I know nought Julia advanced to the apparently that passed, since the post brought insensible old woman, caught her me that shocking letter, yesterday. chilled hand, and eagerly exclaim- I read it, and my heart seemed to ed

break at once.

I got my Bible *Oh! what, the dreadful, mat- for it was all that was left to comter is??'

I sat down to read; but The poor dame, aroused by her could not. My head was gone: voice and touch, stared vacantly at only now and then remembering her for a few moments; then, re- my grief and shame, and finding cognising her, burst into tears, I had no power to move. I sat here snatched her hand away, and with all night, I know; for once I rethat and her other covered her membered it was night:--but the veneraSle face.

world is all night, and darkness, to "Ah! miss, madain !' she cried, me now!'. • I dare not now look upon you ! • Alas!' said Julia, ' I cannot In my old age, 'tis my luck to be make comfort for you; I cannot ashained to show my face. ... warm your so chilled heart; but I. I have those belonging to me, that will do, my possible, for your poor shame me. My grey hairs are treinbling frame.' scandalized; and iny heart is brok- Edward, long used to a cottage, en !'

and assisting his mother, was now Oh! what, of terrible, can you of essential service to Julia; he mean?” said Julia, trembling with helped her to find out the firing, aları.- I fear to ask from you, taught her to strike a light; and but_are you, alone quite?' between them, though both awk

.Quite alone; and so left to ward from inexperience, they made die!..... Fanny, oh! Fanny has up a fire. Julia then filled the teaforsaken me, and virtue! I thought kettle at the well, put it on the her, for the last three weeks, with fire, and rummaged some tea, suher mother's family, that I have gar, and tea-things, out of the cupsometimes let her go to see :-but board ;--for she was determined no, she deceived me;—she was upon making the poor heart-browith the base villain who seduced ken woman drink some tea, before her, and led her from innocence, she should leave her, to go and tell and me!.......Oh, Fanny! Fan- Lady Delamore of her situation, ny! how could you do so!-Oh! and to get some eligible person to your dreadful letter broke your stay with her; resolving not to call granny's heart !


of her inmediate neighbours · Poor dame!' said Edward, to her, as she saw the poor dame • how she shakes with cold! I recoiled from the idea of seeing would get the bellows, and blow; any of them. but there is no spark left, to kindle Our benevolent heroine, at the fire.'

length, made some tea; and, by • Oh!' exclaimed Julia, 'why her resistless entreaties, prevailed før, is this? Why you thus, poor upon the poor old sufferer to drink

a-little of it, and it seered to re- and came ever so often here, talk. novate her much. She ceased to ing nousense to Fanny abont ber tremble, except from agitation; beauty; and at last I determined to and overcome by Julia's tender tell my lady of it;—and I wish I kindness, reposed in her the full had !--but soon I thought there story of Fanny's seduction, and her was no occasion for it; as, one day, Own sorrows.

who should come in, but 'equire . • Dear me!' said the sobbing Fitzroy', to look for his brother: dame, • I seems like not to know and the next day he ca ne alone, what I on ght to do. Sometimes I and began to advise Fanny not to t'rink I oaght not to tell you, to listen to his brother, andoh,goodgrieve your good and tender heart ness! how with his silver tongue with such things of those you love; he hushed my suspicions !-as Fanand then met inks it is meant by ly listened to every word he said, Providence for ine to tell you, I thought there was no use in since you, of all the world, were making mischief with my lady, as sent to me in the sad time of my Fanny would never listen no more trouble;—and you may be, of all to sir Charles, and so he stopped the world, the one marked out to froin coming. But 'squire Fitzrescue Fanny froin her guilty ways, roy, whenever he was staying at and lead her back to penitence the castle, used to come often to and me.'

my (ottaye; and I-fool that I Julia shuddered with anticipat- was !-always made him welcome, ing apprehension; her heart was thinking he was so good and pious ! agonized; but, endowed with some- --for he would read the Bible to thing apparently more than mortal me for half an hour together, so firmness, she listened, without be- tinely! and then retire, to yonder traying her feelings, to a tale-to window there, to explain texts of her, a tale of horrors.

Scripture to Fanny: and when I It is now about four years, wished to hear him too, he advised dear my lady, since Fanny-cruel me not, in so friendly and kind a girl!—first began to be praised for way! telling me, as I had not so her beauty. She had many a good much learning as Fanny, it would offer from the neighbouring young only disturb my mind, and perhaps farmers, but she refused thein all; make me waver in my faith ; while as she needs must be in love with Fanny, as she comprehended all, the inan she should marry :-but it served to strengthen in her relishe'll ne'er inarry now! no honest gious principles. man would have her.-Well, dear Well-a-day-So this went on young lady, she got all this lore- for a couple of years; and it nerer stuff in her head at her uncle's, once came into my old stupid head where the girls are always falling that Fanny could fall in love with foul of story-books (that were writ- so great a gentleman: but, O ten for ladies, not the poor), instead dear me! how I was terrified, and of minding the pigs, and the poul- trembled, when Fanny, hearing try.

you were to be married to the Well, my lady, sir Charles Strat- squire, cried all day long about it; ton saw Fanny one day, as she was and, from dearly loving you, began bringing home work to do for the to say you were painted, red and repository; and he fo lowed her, white, and a many such spiteful

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I then said, I would take her there, in his cart, hoped she was not so mad as to as he always did; but she must, have fallen in love with a man who this time, walk over to his house, would not think the like of her and his new man would fetch her worthy to wipe his shoesShe box. Well, I believed her, for I answered me pertly, for the first never had reason to doubt her time in her life; and it cut me to word. I made a nice cake for her, the heart. .... Well, dear me! and gave her a bottle of milk, to Fanny, one day, had been at Sed- take on the road. A strange man ley, to buy threads for her needle- came for her box; and as I kissed work; and home she came from it, and blessed her at parting, her her eyes sparkling with joy, and tears bedewed my cheeks. her cheeks like roses; and as she Well, dear lady, she is three came in, she said — She cared for weeks gone to-day, and yet my nothing now, since 'squire Fitzroy mind misgave me not;-though thought (for he had just told her the time of her absence was also himself) that she was ten thou- ways sad days for me ;-but she sand times more beautiful than mostly staid five or six weeks at miss De Clifford.'

her uncle's, and I was no way pre• If the 'squire told you so,' said pared for this cruel letter!' 1, · it was only to make game of

Dame Banks now took you; for every one, who has eyes,' from between the leaves of her Bimust see that miss De Clifford is ble, a letter, which she handed to as much more beautiful than you Julia; and Julia had power to are, as you are prettier than the open it, and read every ayonizing generality of girls one sees.' Well, word it contained. she gave me another saucy answer, • Dear grandmother, and I cried for grief.

As I unluckily inet neighbour • Well, dear young lady, the Turton to-day, in my linen-dra’squire went away to be made a per's shop, and as he is going home murkis; and when you fell sick, in the mail to-morrow night, I hasFanny's natural goodness and love ten to write to you, because, as for you got the better of spite, and soon as he gets home, the murder she was very sorry about you, and will out, and you must then kuow went twice a-day up to the castle, where I am, though he, with all bis to inquire for you; and when you curiosity, cannot tell with whom. grew so bad, that no one thought But don't you be cast down at you could get over it, and that what has happened, as it is a good Fanny, when she returned home thing for you ;—for as long as your of an evening, (as I thought, from existence lasts, you shall live like neighbour Hawthorn's, where I a lady, with a maid to wait on believed she was at neulle-work,) you; and you shall not stay in and that she seemed melancholy, your mean cottage, but, as soou silent, and odd, I thought it all as I have got a handsone lodging was grief for you. At last, she near me for you, I shall send you asked my leave to go to her un- money to bear your expenses up cle's, at Lyme; and I consented, to town in a post-chuise, like a thinking it would amuse her; and lady, and not in a nean, filthy I could not bear to see her sad. stage. She told me, Hobbs, the miller, • You will wonder, dear grandVOL. XXXVIII.

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mother, how I came by all this with my lord markis, who seemed money; and I have the comfort to in such trouble I stopped to comtell you, I am with my dear markis fort him; and so he asked me to of Penmorra, and as bappy as a walk with him; and so I did, leanqueen, though only his miss ;--for ing on his arın, like his wife-no, his wife he could not make me, not like an insipid wife either, but having been teased by bis foolish like the idol he adored—and be meddling uncle Ashgrove, and his making love so sweetly! quite parents, into inarrying that miss forgetting miss De Clifford, and De Clifford, who he does not care every one but me: so that, when for ;-never, in all his born days, he asked me to meet him nest loving any one but me: so, poor morning, I could not find in my thing she may be his wife; but I heart to refuse him; so I met him shall be dressed as grand as she, next day, and every day, telling and shall have all his lore, and his you • I was working at Hawthorn's

, tender attentions.

till at last he persuaded me to go • Ah! my dear grandmother! off' with him; and I did, the evene how nicely iny dear lord markis ing I left you, when he went up to deceived you, reading the Bible to parliament. We travelled all night you, and in explaining texts of -as he had staid to the last moScripture to me - Well he know- ment at the castle, hoping miss De ed how to gull you, and win me. Clifford would let him see her and

• It is now two years, since my we went a round-about road, where lord markis began to toil (as he he was not known at the inns, feard calls it) for my love, and to get me that it should be knowed he had inro liis possession. My love he me with him ;—for he is terribly awon in a twinkle; but he found it feared it should be knowed at the not so easy to make me forget the castle--so mind, dear grandmorigmaroles you put in my head, ther, that you don't 'peach. The about-shat not; and I did not time we travelled, I wished myself like to leave you: and so he never at home again, and cried sadly; my could have got me to be his miss, dear markis made such a fuss about hail he not removed from my mind how sweet, and beautiful, and inthe clouds of ignorance, and had nocent, miss De Clifford looked, as not chance throwed him in my she slept in her chair; and was so way, when he was in grief about alarmed about the delicate state of that miss De Clifford, who, though her health,' that I feared he had he is not at all in love with, he re- deceived me; that it was she he gards as a sister, and therefore was loved, and not me; but when he in great trouble at the thoughts of found how much I took on about her death.

it, he talked no more of her, and 6 In returning from inquiring at repeated his vowe of everlasting

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