Lord Mowbray had again recourse to passing his fingers through his hair before he could proceed. At length, after drawing a heavy respiration, he resumed his narrative:

"Spite of this avowal, Corrajo lived on with Rosalinda and myself. The more I knew of them both, the more I delighted in their society. It was impossible not to love and honour Alessandro Corrajo-Rosalinda did both. I feel convinced she did; but there was a worthless being of the party, whom if she honoured less, she loved more. One morning I found her in tears. Corrajo was gone. An open letter, which Rosalinda held out to me, explained the cause of his departure. It ran thus:

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My dear friends,—It is because you are very dear to me, that I leave you. Let me but know that you mutually make each other's happiness, and honourably make it, (for without honour no happiness exists long,) and I shall rejoice. I will seek mine elsewhere. Though it is easy to write these words, yet who can understand the anguish they cause to the writer, unless it be one, who, in a similar situation, and from similar motives,

adopts the same course that I have chosen. In after times, when you are established in England, I will, if you permit me, come to you; Till then, farewell!

'ALESSANDRO Corrajo.'

"Rosalinda's eyes were fixed intently upon me, while I read this note: I felt they were, though I did not dare look up. A revulsion of thought and sensation came over me, and I was speechless.

When you are established in England!' were words of awful sound, and big with meaning which troubled me, and brought me back to a conviction of the moral position in which I was placed. I saw myself on a frightful precipice, and I saw another, dearer than myself, standing beside me."

"No! no! stop there, my good Lord," said Altamont, "you mistook, believe me! Not dearer, that is a wrong term: had she been even as dear, there would have been no precipice in question. For her, at least, most fortunately it was otherwise; it is all quite right, though you were

Lord Mowbray gulped down the observation, and proceeded: "Yes! I was placed in a situ

ation, in which a man of honour and tenderness ought to have spoken, and spoken out: but a spell was on me, I did not speak, I laid down the letter in silence, and Rosalinda from that day became a prey to the deepest melancholy. She proposed to me, after a time, to return to Naples. We did so. Whatever were her own sorrows, she exerted herself to render my existence happy. Her society was chosen in conformity to my predilections and my tastes. Her every action—her language-her manner, were all modelled on principles and rules which she had heard approved by me; and even down to national prejudices and points of etiquette, she was the slave of my will, and became, for my sake, often the object of ridicule and satire from her countrywomen, than whom no nation are more tenacious of their privileges, or more ready to attack the pusillanimity which they consider guilty of a surrender of them. Our whole life was passed in a constant succession of entertainments. I felt happy in the relief they afforded me from the mal aise which I endured, I hardly knew why; and was flattered by the unwearied anxiety of her who thus sought to promote my enjoyment. Yet, though the sweet habit of seeking Rosalinda's so

ciety constantly led me to her residence, I no longer experienced the same delight in her presence; and if I inquired of myself why this was so, there was no outward cause or ground, which I could assign for the change. Her life, her habits, her feelings, were all sacrificed to mine: but I was still restless, I was still dissatisfied. The source of unhappiness lay within my own bosom. I felt conscious that I was acting ungenerously by one to whom I owed a very different conduct, yet had not the courage either to confess or atone for my fault, or folly, whichever name you will give it.

"The spell, however, which held me in this state of painful hesitation, wavering between what I felt due to a being, led by my own thoughtless conduct to place her happiness in my keeping, and my reluctance to adopt the cruel alternative of ridding myself of the embarrassment by an open avowal of my feelings, was at length broken by one of those fortuitous circumstances, the insignificance even of which cannot prevent their being attributed to providential interference, since we often see the simplest means employed by Omnipotence to effect the most complicated ends."

Mr Altamont nodded his head, saying, "Right

my good Lord; I taught you that, and am happy you remember your lesson so well by rote; hem! hem! I wish I could say by heart." Lord Mowbray gave one of his melancholy smiles, and ceeded.

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"Amongst the English travellers resident at Naples, there was a certain Mr. Beverley, a man of noble family, but whose intimacy I had never cultivated; partly from a want of sympathy in our general tastes and pursuits, and partly from the same cause which had kept me at a distance from my own countrymen :-I mean, my wish to understand and know thoroughly the people amongst whom I resided, and an acquaintance with whose manners and habits was a principal object in my travels. We were, however, on speaking terms; and visits had occasionally passed between Mr. Beverley and myself. He called one morning at my door, and was received. After discussing the current topics of the day, the opera―the last favourite singer-the last great loss at play-and the scandal of Naples in general, he prefaced his allusion to the subject of his communication, by many apologies for the liberty he was taking, the want of sufficient intimacy to authorise what