ged towards you. Having never been more than a friendit being impossible, even if you were Lord De Clifford himself, that she could be more-Bertha is so still: and when I described her keen regrets, I may say her sorrow, at perceiving you laboring under a most unavailing passion, which might end in your misery, I meant anything but to encourage you Believe me, who pos

to think she could ever entertain it. sess all her confidence, this is wholly out of the question, were you even a prince of the blood."

This, as I thought unnecessary addition, made me shudder, and I replied (moodily, and I fear proudly),

66

Your ladyship need be under no such apprehension. I perfectly well know the distance between Miss Hastings and myself; nor was it necessary to remind me of it: for, of the total absence on her part of any thing like encouragement I have even been too well convinced, to think that this distance can be overleapt."

"Honorably said, most distant Sir, and most lofty-minded gentleman," replied my fair instructress; "and, this being so, I feel perfectly safe in having made you this confidence. Do me the justice, however, to believe, that it is for your own sake I have spoken, and therefore, if I tell you that the bar against you is insuperable, you ought to thank me. In return, I hope I need not tell you that your secret with me is safe; though, indeed, no man need be ashamed of loving such a creature as Bertha. Time and absence, however, and still more, perhaps, the usual remedy of very young men-admiration of another-may do much for you. For the latter, at least, there is abuudant scope, at this brilliant time of the

year.

By the way," added she, "I saw you rather occupied last night with that very brilliant person, Miss Falconer, who, though this is only her first season, bas already turned the heads of half the town. She has as much fortune, they say, as beauty; and her tournure, you see, is perfect. Now, suppose you try a little experiment upon yourself, and see whether this superb sultana (a very contrast to Miss Hastings) may not cause some diversion in your feelings."

Though she said this sportingly, and, as she afterwards allowed, to see whether I could be diverted or not, I did not 2*

VOL. III.

like Lady Hungerford for this, and said perhaps somewhat resentfully,

"Your ladyship does well to laugh at my very impertinent feelings, and has indeed said well, that these two ladies are a contrast to one another. Oh, how great a one!"

"Be it so," returned Lady Hungerford; and (again to try me) she observed that Miss Falconer in the opinion of all judges, from her singularly fine manners, taste, and elegance, would, she thought, be preferred by everbody, to a girl brought up in the country, however highly allied.

"That may be, madam," said I; "but an illustration from your favorite science of music shall be my answer. A simple but touching and pathetic melody, which thrills the heart, and perhaps fills the eyes with tears, may for a time be eclipsed by an elaborate, magnificent sinfonia, full of imposing and learned accompauiments; and so a beautiful girl, decked only in the simple charms of a sweet nature, may seem veiled for a time, when a court comes sweeping by, in all the pomp of majesty and gold. But as the charm of the melody returns upon the sense, and is cherished long after the scientific and imposing sinfonia is forgotten; so the beautiful daughter of nature, I have supposed, renews and maintains her place in the heart long after all the finery of the court has ceased to be remembered."

Upon my word' fair Sir," said Lady Hungerford, “there might be a worse exposition, and I could pardon much imprudence to so much elegance of fancy as well as constancy. Nor am I sorry to have sounded you by what I said of a di version, since it lets me into the truth of what your friend Mr. Granville believed was once a ruling passion, but he thought it had subsided. I grieve to think his opinion was not well founded. But there must be an end to imprudence, when it swells into madness; and though I dare say you will hate me for telling you so, it is absolute madness to foster this affection. The bar I have told you is insuperable-were you as rich as you are well born, you could not succeed-the passion must be conquered."

"Be assured, madam," replied I, somewhat moved, "it would not be easy for me to hate you for anything, much less for what, I trust I am not too presumptuous in thinking proceed from good will towards me, however unworthy of it."

Nay," returned my protectress (for I cannot help calling her so)," do not disqualify yourself, but rather turn your qualifications to account. Mr. Granville informed me he had once told you there was more than one Miss Hastings in the world; aud, much as I love and admire her, I agree with him. I will not recur again to a diversion to which you are properly superior, and to which I only adverted as a trial, for which I ought to ask pardon. But there are other objects, not less intense, more prudent, and even more honourable in your position; I mean the pursuit of your ambition, so well begun, and the study of the world in which you may be hereafter conspicuous. These the indulgence of this secret passion may cruelly thwart. How many thousands of young men would give their little fingers to be where you are, at the expense, easy to them, of eradicating even a stronger attachment than this!"

"Stronger! madam!" exclaimed I. "I am sorry you think so meanly of me."

And seizing my hat, and with a deep sigh, I took my leave so suddenly and unceremoniously that I found myself in the street before Lady Hungerford could offer any thing in reply. And so ended an experiment conceived and inade to promote the happiness of another, but which lamentably conduced to the deterioration of my own.

CHAPTER II.

IN ORDER TO RECOVER FROM MY RUINCUS ATTACHMENT I THROW MYSELF MORE AND MORE UPON THE TOWN, IN THE REVIEW OF ITS DIFFERENT CHARACTERS.-A DINNER AT LORD CASTLE

TON'S, WHERE I MEET A GREAT CRITIC.-CHARACTER OF MR. JOHN PARAGRAPH.

What foolish masters taught you these manners, Sir John?

SHAKSPEARE.-2 Henry IV.

THE interview with Lady Hungerford, recorded in the last chapter, did me no good, and I felt rightly served for endea

vou.ing to discover a lady's secret, when I had one of my own which I wished to conceal, if possible, from myself; for, from the thousand scenes of another sort in which I was now engaged, I had begun to hope that I was really independent of that absorbing feeling which had tinged all ny early years, with some pleasure indeed, but more pain.

'Tis true I was affected and pleased with the thought that I was so kindly remembered as Lady Hungerford described; but the very non-concealment of that kindness, with no intimation of any thing more, proved that I was nothing to Bertha. Had there been any thing warmer, she would not have so frankly confessed her friendship; she would have been afraid of herself. This I felt, from I know not what sort of intuition so far had I advanced without instruction in the knowledge of the heart.

I am ashamed to say how wayward I felt towards Lady Hungerford after this last visit. Though I could not by any means make it out, I wished to think myself unkindly used, and abstained from repeating my calls for a week: nay, I excused myself from one of her soirees, and when I met her unexpectedly at a third place, and rather looked to be reproached for it, to my mortification I was treated exactly with the same affability and ease as if I had shewn my usual assidui

ties.

I was half angry at this no change, and, like Sir Peter in the play, said to myself, "She may break my heart, but she sha'nt keep her temper.'

Meantime, I thought the experiment I had made in regard to her feeling for Granville had succeeded; and that the strong hint I had given her of his devotion had far from displeased her. It is certain she did any thing but keep her resolution of not speaking to him again; the "last line" seemed always the last thing remembered, and was remembered with pleasure.

The effect was visible upon himself. All his agreeable qualities-his talent-his tact, and good breeding shone out in double lustre, and he wanted nothing but his embassy to enable him to undertake a siege in form.

I confess I envied him; and in the midst of business, pleasure, and dissipation, I became, as formerly, solitary and sad; though not, as formerly, foud of my chain, for I really

wished to break it. My friends thought me like Richard, when about to fight for his kingdom, and noticed that

"I had not that alacrity of spirit,

And cheer of mind, that I was wont to have."

And yet there was nothing in Lady Hungerford's caution or communication, that ought to have added to whatever uneasiness I had before undergone. It was not new to me, that I was to have no hope for Bertha. I had, indeed, thought I had settled that matter forever, and had even been light of heart when I first came to London.

Nor did the associations thrown around Lady Hungerford at all sadden my recollections, or prevent my delight in her conversation. It was the intimation she gave that I was still so kindly remembered where it did me good to think myself forgotten, that disturbed me. For by reviving tenderness (never indeed entirely suppressed), it excited a tumult once more in my feelings, by no means soothed by the accompanying assurance that those feelings were vain.

I tried again to summon my pride to aid me against both Bertha and her friend who had so lectured me.. I did not understand, much less like, the positive tone assumed, as it were expressly, by Lady Hungerford on this occasion. In particular, I could not make out, and was disposed to resent, the seemingly gratuitous assumption, that were I Lord De Clifford himself, or even a prince of the blood, I should not succeed. What right had Lady Hungerford to assert this? Why assert it, except unnecessarily to humble me?

I became downright angry. But I could not keep my anger long, for my admiration of this charming person predominated over even a sense of injury; and as for Bertha, all pride fell before her, and I felt that to her I was "pigeon-livered and lacked gall."

Luckily, at this time, a press of business in the state, and a press of engagements in the world of fashion, came so far to my aid, that I had little time to brood. Lord Castleton gave me employment enough in the former, and the latter was greatly encouraged, on a good natural principle, as she told me herself, by Lady Hungerford. I became what is called bien repandu. I wrote all the morning, or saw courtiers and