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Every thing, dearest Françes, that you put on becomes beautiful;" whispered the enamoured Lord Bellamont.

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Nay, now, don't be silly; do decide; do tell me which I shall take."

"Take them both, my love," he whispered; " and this thing," (holding up a train of a magnificent lace dress,)" and what do you call this, Mademoiselle Blondell? it looks very pretty, don't it, Frances? have this, too, and this."

"Vraiment, Milor a bon goût, on voit bien qu'il s'y connoit, c'est tout ce qu'il y a de plus nouveau.''

"Put them all up," he added, "and direct them to Lady Frances Lorimer. And, Lady Emily, allow me to offer this slight tribute to your charms," (pointing to a lace dress, as magnificent as the one he had just selected,) "do accept it, at least from your sister." Thus, having put his bride into good-humour, he was rewarded by one of her brightest smiles, and she graciously condescended to promise to meet him at the coachmakers, to look at the new carriage he had ordered for her.

The whole morning was spent in driving

from one place to another; and when at last Lady Emily found herself in the comparative tranquillity of her own room, she sat down to collect her thoughts from the unsatisfactory hurry of the last hours. She wondered, considering how much variety she had seen of persons and things, that nothing remained to fix her attention upon, or excite one single idea. A mixture of brilliant gewgaws danced before her eyes, and troops of well-dressed persons, together with bows, glances, nods of compliment, and shreds of talk; but absolutely not one idea was presented to her recollection. out of the whole mass. An impression of a sad, unsatisfactory kind was the general result of the retrospection of her visit to London; and she sighed to think how differently she had pictured it to herself from what she had found it to be in reality.

Miss Macalpine entered the room while she was absorbed in such melancholy musings. This kind-hearted, but abrupt and simple-minded woman, had penetration enough to discover that Emily's heart had wandered away from her own

keeping--that her happiness was no longer in her own power; but she had not sufficient tact or refinement to treat the subject delicately, and she often wounded when she meant to heal.

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Well, Lady Emily, and what na braw things hae ye been feasting your eyes upo' the day? I daure to say, now, yere wishing ye were Lady Frances, or rather it's more like your ain sel to be thinking o' ane that's no here. It's unco queer-like, that Lord Mowbray should be awa to his castle in Dorsetshire."

Lady Emily started: "To Dorsetshire ?" and turned pale as she added, "then we shall probably never seen him again.”

"Hoot! what's the lassie thinking about; ye'll see him often enow, I'se warrant. It's lang ere the diel dies at the dike side-no that I would sae ony thing disrespecfu' o' his Lordship, wha's behaved sae vara genteel to me; but only I would na wish that you should just be setting yere fancy on a chiel that's no to ride the water on, I fears me."

"What puts it into your head, my dear Alpinia, that I have set my fancy upon him as you call it ?"

66 I may be wrang; it's no sae easy to say, forby that it may be ye dinna weel ken what ye would be at yoursel; but I'm thinking ye forgathered our mickle wi him at the Ha, had na ye were unco taen up wi him, that's for certain."

"I wonder, dear Alpinia, you allow so many fancies to enter your brain; but at all events, you know we are going into retirement for ever, and therefore there is little chance of our meeting him again. As soon as Frances's marriage is over, we take our departure for Somersetshire; and my poor uncle's affairs are, I fear, hopeless (her eyes filled with tears as she spoke). "You know it is not the loss of the fortune I lament, Alpinia; it is to see my uncle's spirit broken down, and sinking beneath the insolence of that purse-proud Duke of Godolphin. But how do you know, Alpinia, that Lord Mowbray is gone from town?"

"By a written line o' his ain haund ;—here it is," and feeling in her pocket she produced the note which was as follows:

"My dear Miss Macalpine, some unexpected business calls me to Mowbray Castle.

If I

should not be able to pay my respects to the General before my departure, I beg you to make my compliments and regrets at not seeing him to take my leave, acceptable to himself and to Lady Emily, &c. &c.

"MOWBRAY."

"So he is gone!" said Lady Emily, looking paler than before; " and I have never seen him since the night of the Opera, soon after we came to town!"

Miss Macalpine shook her head. “Woes me, but I fear there's something no just right in that young Lord. I canna tell what na thing. it is ails him; but yon, Rosalinda, and he, seem to hae been acquaint lang since syne, and thae Italians are no canny-fearfu' like bodies; whan they get a grip o' a man they never let go. Ye suld na be thinking o' him, Lady Emily; for every time I hae remarked him weel whan ony body has spoken o' that Rosalinda, a kind o'cauld sweat, like the dead thraws, has stood on his brow, and that's a sure sign there's something wrang. Dinna let him wile the heart out o' your breast