CHAPTER XXVII.

ORMSBY had engaged himself to go on the following morning to look at a house, the situation of which they thought they should prefer to that which they at present occupied. Matilda was therefore left alone to receive the expected visit of Mrs. Laceby.

From any awkward sensation of embarrassment in society, Matilda had always been peculiarly free; an exemption, the natural consequence of intuitive good breeding, and habitual usage of the world. But with her situation, her feelings had altered. Confidence, however the appearance of it may occasionally be brazened forth, cannot really

exist without self-respect. Matilda's loss of caste had been too recent, and her sense of shame was too acute, to enable her successfully to assume the appearance of that ease she no longer felt; and she had literally worked herself up into the most uncomfortable state of nervousness, whilst awaiting Mrs. Laceby's dreaded visit. Listening to catch the first sound of each successive carriage wheels, as they bowled along the smooth lava flag stones, they seemed to her to advance with unnatural rapidity; and she gave a gasp of relief, when, though hardly trusting her ears, she was convinced that each had actually passed her door.

"How can I bear to meet," thought she," a woman whom Ormsby described as possessing every virtue, but charity; when it is only the active exercise of that one in particular, that could ren

der endurable her presence to a poor fallen creature like me? I shall have to submit to the contemptuous condescension of one who, even whilst she for some family reasons stoops to notice me, will think it necessary to mark, that the interview is disagreeable to her, by making it so to me. I think I see her before me, shrinking, as from contamination, at the slightest approach on my part. I can fancy, but too well, her severe voice, stiff figure, and constrained conversation. Would it were over!"

Whilst conjuring up these unpleasant images, a carriage actually stopped at the door; and after a delay that seemed interminable to Matilda, her Italian servitore entered, and announced a lady, whose name, he said, he could not pronounce, but which resembled that of my lord.

"Now for it," thought she; and she

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rose to receive her dreaded visitor. But great was her surprise when, instead of the stiff-starched figure, and forbidding features, which she had attributed to Mrs. Laceby, she beheld a form, if any thing, too well rounded,—handsome, though rather coarse features--a complexion which, if entirely natural, was brilliant indeed-and a dress far from unbecoming-though showy, almost amounting to tawdriness.

Matilda had hardly time to make these observations on the appearance of her new acquaintance, before, instead of meeting her with a cold repulsive manner, she extended both hands, and kissed her cheek rather cordially than delicately. At first Matilda knew not, whether to distrust her own eyes, or to discredit Ormsby's descriptive powers, and was half-inclined to believe that there must be some mistake: when she was

reassured by her visitor, who began, “I knew that you would be at home, as soon as you heard that it was I. I was determined to call on you, because I feel for your situation; and connected as we are, I have made up my mind to take you in hand; for however ill I may think that I have been used by your Lord Ormsby, and some of the family, forget and forgive is my motto; and if I can be of any use to you, you may command me. I will introduce you to any society that I know of, if you like." "Oh, by no means," answered Matilda; "I neither can expect nor wish that. But I can assure you, that I am more grateful than I can express for this attention; which I am aware, however, that I can only owe to that kindly feeling towards Ormsby, which all in the remotest degree connected with him cannot but have."