Sir Reginald, on his part, proud and secure, did not allow himself a moment to doubt his success.

The heart of Aspasia, mean time, had made its election, and it was in favour of Mr. Melbourne. "Wisdom and worth were all he had;" but these were not lost upon a mind so discerning. A certain diffidence of manner, which was found to conceal superior talents and information, a striking figure, and an interesting and manly countenance; these were the characteristics which she had distinguished in the unpretending recluse, and distinguished with fond partiality. Where the sympathy that attracted was mutual, the resolution to fly the danger, could not be of long duration. Frequent meetings increased the prepossession, and an accidental circumstance finally unveiled their minds to each other.

At a private play, to which all the Melbournes had been invited, Miss Villiers, after charming the spectators in the part of Cleopatra, no less by her talent than by the alluring beauty of her countenance, and the ma

jestic graces of her person, evinced equal, though different excellence in the entertainment, where she represented the innocent and interesting Rosina. Mr. Melbourne happened to be placed next to her at supper; she still wore the dress in which she had so captivated his heart. To see her in this rural habit, was soothing to his fancy; never, he thought, had she smiled so sweetly on him: it seemed to bring her nearer to his wishes; and, inspired with an unusual degree of courage, he complimented her upon the versatility that could so well sustain a character, so different from that, which birth and education had made her own. She replied, that the part she had that evening supported, however ill it accorded with her present situation, was most congenial to her taste; and that she found the dress of the simple village maid, more in character with her feelings, than when, adorned as an empress, she had worn the splendid trappings of a court. Was it love that inspired this wonderful magnanimity of sentiment, at the moment the beauteous Aspasia believed, in its fullest extent,

the truth of what she said. Mr. Melbourne felt convinced she did; and a delightful and confidential conversation ensued, in which he discovered, with equal surprise and pleasure, that she possessed a heart which beat in unison with his own, and a mind formed to relish all the simple and domestic pleasures.

Nothing now remained to check the hopes of Mr. Melbourne, but the preference Mr. Villiers openly gave to Sir Reginald. A sudden and violent illness, however, shortly after deprived Aspasia of her only remaining parent; and, for some time, plunged her into a state of dejection, which refused to hear either the voice of consolation, or of love, When she at length consented to let Mr. Melbourne renew his suit, he, without difficulty, prevailed on her to quit a world, that, to her mind, already softened by affliction, no longer offered the same enjoyment; and to retire with him to that beautiful spot, to which he had added every circumstance of rural comfort and convenience, and which her taste and judgment soon rendered a ferme ornée. Here, in the society of a wife

so lovely and beloved, and the additional happiness which the birth of a daughter, after some years of anxious expectation, conferred on him, Mr. Melbourne felt less than ever the want of any other intercourse. At his leisure hours, he cultivated an intimate acquaintance with the families of ferns, heaths, mosses, and grasses; but forgot, at the same time, equally to cultivate the living families the neighbourhood afforded.

In this love of solitude, he was unintentionally seconded by his Aspasia, who, though she had given up the first society for him she loved, could never afterwards find attractions in any other. Sometimes, when gazing on the infant beauties of her daughter, a vague wish would cross her mind, that they could at once expand to womanhood: that the sensibility of that heart could already respond to her's; the intelligence of those eyes express themselves in the intercourse of mind to mind. But soon remembering how short is the portion allotted to life, and how much the happiest were those years claimed by childhood and youth, she blushed at the selfish thought,

"Am I not a mother!" she exclaimed; "Oh I am surely, even now, sufficiently happy!"

But, as years advanced, and she saw her own perfections revive in the young Matilda's excellence, in every elegant and feminine accomplishment, she found, in storing her opening mind with useful and ornamental know- ledge, ample and interesting employment; at the same time Mr. Melbourne took care to remedy in his daughter the defect he had often secretly deplored in his wife. For, though her acquirements in history, in languages, in general literature, far surpassed what is usually attained by a female, she was not a woman of science; and sometimes, with harmless playfulness, rather laughed at her husband's endless and grave dissertations upon blades of grass, and butterflies' wings, or the still more learned discourses upon hydrogen and oxygen, which were delivered by his friend, Mr. Sowerby, the only visitor who ever disturbed his solitude.

On these occasions, his only resource was to retire with his daughter Matilda, to his laboratory or his study: and, while amid his