at the family seat. I had now an alternative, either to add one more to this large party, or stay in town and be bored to' death by the dull monotony of the silent streets. I adopted the first expedient, made a virtue of necessity, and without the help of necromancy, composed a mighty tender epistle to lady Walsingham, inforining her how I had escaped the horrors of the deep-how I was rejoiced to find myself once more on the beloved shores of my dear, dear native country-how excessively pleased I was to hear of her health, and happy settlement-how I was dying to see her after so long an absence; and to complete all these hows, that I should be with her almost as soon as my messenger.

The next morning I drove to the city, made several elegant purchases, and then in a postchaise and four, rattled down to Walsingham-hall, which I found to be a tolerable decent place. On my alighting, a servant conducted me to an apartment where sat a lady and gentleman. I had no time for remarks; the fellow announced miss Lester, and I found myself clasped to the bosom of the lady, and felt a profusion of warm tears bathing my face. Thank heaven the complexion was in grain, or it would have been a pretty malicious piece of business. When she released me, I found it was Caroline herself, but heavens! how very much improved. When I had last seen her, she was a pretty girl, and promised to make a fine woman. But, mon Dieu! the bud was blown with such exuberant beauty, I was absolutely dazzled; the first look, momentarily as it was, fixed a barbed arrow in my heart, which has rankled there ever since, and has sunk now still

deeper, by an event I could not then foresee. But I will not anticipate my vexatious story. As soon as my lady's joyful emotions had subsided a little, she presented me to lord Walsingham, who, by the by, is the handsomest fellow you ever saw. He saluted me with tender respect, thanked me for the honour I did his Caroline, asked me a few questions concerning my voyage, and left his Caroline and me together.

The foolish body sported another crying scene, for joy, she said; but I would not shed so many tears either for joy, or sorrow, for a thousand pounds. I am sure I should not be fit to appear for a month. But she no doubt has been told, that she is beautiful in tears, for I observed afterwards that the traces of her tender folly had left an interesting languor on her countenance. She rang for her boy to be brought; (it is a little cherubic fellow, but no ways punctilious).

I begged her to permit me to retire to a dressing-room before I was introduced to the company. She attended me herself to a very elegant chamber and dressingroom, which was appropriated to my use. She asked if there was every thing I wanted? I assured her there was; and requested that she would send up Blanche, and not let me detain her from her company any longer, adding that I would join them in a quarter of an hour.

In treble that time I descended, and desired a servant to show me the ladies' drawing-room. He threw open the door, and discovered a very brilliant party, dressed for the day.

After a ridiculous, formal presentation, I was allowed to use my

eyes.

The first person they fell on was a lord Seymour, a very fine figure, elegantly dressed. I set him down for my own; but on taking a second look I was surprised to see his eyes fixed on the opposite side of the room. Llooked in the same direction, and discovered the object of attraction. A fine, tall, slender figure, apparently about five-and-twenty; a face delicately fair, large, languishing blue eyes, a profusion of dark auburn hair gave great expression to her features. She wore a smile on her countenance which displayed a dimple in each cheek, and a row of exquisite white teeth.

Though very inferiour to either lady Walsingham or myself, yet as she wore the widow's weed (the widow's lure it ought to be called) I gave him up, as not worth the trouble it would take to detach him from his relict. I passed them and examined the next lady, who for symmetry of form, and the graceful attitude she was in, might have sat for the model of the Paphian queen. From the hue of her complexion she seemed to be a maid who had never told her love, but let concealment, like a worm i' th' bud, feed on her damask check. This yellow beauty is Walsingham's sister. By her side sat a fashionable youth, gazing with rapturous attention on my face. I gave my fan a flutter, and averting my eyes, they fell on one, to whom I was equally an object of attention: a sir Harry Champly, whoin I have since found to be a foolish, ignorant fellow: que who cannot help showing the coxcomb in his very dress; but he is my declared admirer.

Then here is a young lady, the daughter to the earl of Brilliant,

and sole heiress to his immense property and it is well she has something to recommend her to notice,-I am sure her beauty never will.

Lady Walsingham did the honours of her table with great ease and propriety, and Walsingham was very amusing and animated.

In the evening arrived a gentleman who had been long expected, the right hon. Charles Baderly (my fingers tremble while I write, for the first time, his name). Ah lord! this Walsingham-hall is a fatal place: I almost wish I had lost an eye rather than have seen it. Till I came here, I thought myself the first of women;-till I came here, I looked with indifference on all men ;-but here I have been taught an humbling lesson., What I admire him so much for I am unable to tell; unless it is a secret, inherent principle of contradiction implanted in my nature, to disregard that which is in my power, and to sigh for what is unattainable. Yet, why do I write such a word? What woman dare de, that dare I!

He is not quite so handsome as Walsingham, but pleases me infinitely better. His person is tall, noble, and majestic; his face oval; clear, dark complexion; a most inimitable mouth, fine teeth, an aquiline nose, and such sparkling, penetrating black eyes, they equal, if not more than equal, my own. His eyebrows are high, and arched with such delicate beauty, they surpass the artist's pencil. When he smiles the god of love seems to bend his bow, and take aim from his high, polished temples; but when he frowns, the haughty air which diffuses itself over his manly features, charms me more than other men's smiles. Yet this

man, this noble fellow, disregards me! Yet is he the first of his sex disengaged, who ever conversed with me without feeling my power over their hearts.

You know what noble offers I have refused. Dukes-nay, even, princes, have swelled my triumph; and now to be slighted by the only man whose merits I ever was susceptible of admiring; perhaps the only man who could have been thus long under the same roof with me, and have retained his heart.

But he has not done that: no, I see, (for what can escape a jealous eye) I see he adores my hated rival, Walsingham's wife. Not but he might as well love a shadow, for her terrible virtue will not suffer her to return his love; and I hope he is not such a fool as to die in despair, but that when he finds one nymph coy, he will try another. If I were quite sure she would refuse him, I would forward an eclaircissement, but ah! Dorzella, I fear no woman could withstand his solicitations, and, if she yields, adieu to all my hopes!

I have endeavoured to fathom her thoughts of him. She answers, without emotion, that she thinks him an accomplished, handsome man; and this is all I can draw from her. But this may be affected indifference, and mere finesse. However, my determination is, that neither she, nor any other woman, shall rival me in his affections with impunity. No, they shall feel the weight of my revenge. If she encourages him if she gives him hope, I'll put all Walsingham-Hall in confusion: I will,

Like another Helen, fire another · Troy.'

VOL. XXXVIII.

And, if she does not give him hope,

yet will I punish her for daring to appear more lovely in Baderly's eyes than myself.

I have the heart of her husband · in my keeping; and she, a week ago, added the incumbrance of a daughter to the Walsingham estate. Very opportunely! you'll say;-and so it is; I shall have time for all my schemes before she can counteract them by her pre sence.

Yesterday the gentlemen proposed a drive in the Park: the carriages and horses were immediately ordered. You remember my equestrian appearance is very noble.

I therefore preferred a horse to being drove by Walsingham in his phaeton, which he gave up to his sister Julia, and a lord Beauford, The widow, and my lord Seymour, were dragged mighty soberly along by two fat chariot-horses, harnessed to the lumbering machine itself.

That wretch, Baderly, asked the earl's rich daughter to honour him with her charming company in his curricle (his own words). The lady complied; and off they all cantered, leaving me to the care of Walsingham, who pestered me, as usual, with his love and admiration. I galloped off full speed, with him by my side, when looking behind me, and observing the rest of the party quite out of sight, and the grooms at a great distance, I checked my horse suddenly, and slipping off his back, came on the ground very gently, but screamed out with great violence. Wale singham, who had continued his gallop, turned his horse, and was by me in an instant, dismounted. He shook with terror. Where are you hurt, my sweet girl? Curse the fellow for giving you 4 Y

such a mischievous devil of a horse!'

The grooms now arrived; he stormed at thenf with fury. They said the horse was a very quiet creature, and had never occasioned an accident before. The fellow laid hold of the horse, who stood quiet enough; but said he could not discover what had frightened him. Walsingham cursed him for a stupid fool, and told him to go and bring a carriage to take me home in. The men both rode off. He then placed me gently on the bank, and again asked me where I was hurt. I complained of a sprain in my ancle, but was obliged to bite my lip to prevent laughing. Every time I drew my breath hard his features were absolutely distorted by terror. At length the grimaces he made, joined to his constant exclainations of You are excessively hurt, my dear girl' then the poor innocent palfrey was anathematized with all the zeal of a saint-quite upset my gravity, and I burst into a hearty laugh.

He looked astonished. Pray God!' said he, she go not into hysterics.' I recovered myself as soon as possible, but hearing him supposing it to be a fit almost set me off again. However, I checked my mirth, and leaning my head en his shoulder, appeared quite spent with the exertion. He pressed me to his bosom, and I could feel his heart beat; his hands trembled, and on raising my eyes to his face, I saw he, like Adam, was hanging over me enamoured. His colour heightened, his eyes speaking unutterable things. Baderly's curricle at that moment came in sight. He had the good manners to hasten towards us, and expressed some sorrow at hearing

of my accident. Lady Mary, too, goodnaturedly enough offered me her seat, and had actually alighted, when the officious fool of a groom came tearing up the road with a nasty coach, and was rewarded by Walsingham for his speed.

Baderly, with provoking nons chalance, handed his companion to her former seat. I hid my face in my handkerchief, and Baderly, supposing my pain to be intolerable, took me in his arms, and lifted me into the carriage which the groom had brought. He stepped in, and I was in hopes he had a mind to let the foolish Mary go back by herself; but on Walsingham's coming in he bowed, and saying he left me in good hands, retired: yet I thought, as he descended the steps, his countenance betrayed yexation. This pleased me, and the pleasure was greatly heightened at observing Walsingham's solicitude. His arm encircled my waist, and my head rested on his bosom. Amiable sufferer, bewitching beauty,' he called me, while he repeatedly pressed my cheek with his lips, his eyes swimming in voluptuous softness. What would I have not given to have beheld my Baderly in the same, situation, though at that moment I thought him the handsomest man I had ever seen.

In this short ride I discovered his heart to be all my own, and that I might do just what I pleased with it. I therefore, on the whole, had no reason to be displeased with the effects of my manoeuvre; for a manœuvre, you may be sure, this pretended sprain was, merely: to try my power over my two: beaus. I could have wished to have seen Baderly evince a little more sensibility; but I know hows

to act, and will retaliate the disappointment.

When we arrived at the house, Walsingham carried me up to my chamber. "Your friend, Caroline,' said he, will be grieved she

I will continue my letter to

morrow.

[To be continued.]

I begged he would not, as I said I had a balsam of great efficacy in sprains, which I had brought from Italy.

He left me, but soon returned with his sister, whom he had brought to keep me company: He might as well have fetched old queea Bess from Westminster Abbey: she would have been equally amusing. The strange body talked of nothing but the shining accomplishments of her charming sister; and how much every one of their family adored her. But that she might say, thinking to please me: then, to please herself, she traced back all her ancestors, aye, to the very antediluvians I believe; informed me of their names and achievements; and promised to show me, when I could walk in the gallery, a full length of one who gained a most incredible victory over the Gauls. I have forgot which of her great grandfathers it was, but he might be contemporary with Guy earl of Warwick, for aught I know. But of this I am certain, none of her noble progenitors ever harassed, or fatigued their opponents more by the deeds themselves, than I was by the recital.

A relief came in the person of the present representative of this ancient and honourable house,

TRAGIC ROMANCE.

By S. Y.

AS the sun was setting, and its rays embellishing the vale of Avignon, Rivola strayed from the cottage of her parents. The majestic, distant mountains, seemed to insult, from their superior elevation, the humble trees in the vale beneath, and capriciously to cast monstrous and gigantic shadows on the pleasant plains of Avignon. The scene was interspersed with various trees, watered by limpid springs gushing from amongst the trees; flowers of varied colours, and odoriferous perfumes, adorned the vale and adjacent mountains; uncultivated vines entwined the trunks of the trees, whence, creeping from branch to branch, they formed numerous romantic grottos, caves, and flowery arches:4 Y 2