thoughts dwelt anxiously on this idea for some time. However, "Like April clouds that pass With varying shadow o'er the grass, her gloomy fears gradually gave place to considerations about the arrangements for the approaching removal to town; and when assisting her mother, she amused herself the while in gay anticipations, which rapidly passed before her mental vision-their shadowy forms perpetually varied by "hope and ignorance." Though Constance had been some few times in London, when the bustle of the gay season had subsided, and masters had time to devote to pupils really desirous to learn, she knew little of the vast difference between London full and London empty; and while her imagination pictured balls, and concerts, and opera, in their most captivating colours, she flattered herself that there would be no difficulty in following that methodical arrangement of her time to which she had always been accustomed. The De Romelies had scarcely settled in London, when their quiet was interrupted by visits of old acquaintances and distant relatives, who were glad to renew their connexion with them. Too many, not contented with leaving a card— that useful substitute for a visit-encroached seriously, in their well-meant kindness, on the precious hours of the morning; and the desire of some hundredth cousin to see dear Constance, whom they had perhaps known as a child, frequently interrupted her employments; vexatiously taking her away from them for the purpose of being introduced to people towards whom she was-and felt she ever must be completely indifferent. But Constance had early acquired a habit of self-control, which, combined with grateful good-nature towards those who shewed kind attention to her parents, gave her manner a politeness and ease that rendered her very popular; though, during these trials, she was secretly regretting the sacrifice of time they caused. There was, however, one part of the day which was held sacred from all intrusion-and when Constance was never summoned to any visitor-the time when she was engaged in study with her grandfather; a privilege she estimated above everything. His patience and kindness had early endeared her studies to her; and the result shewed the skill with which he had managed her naturally ardent mind; giving it apparently ample liberty in ranging through the regions of imagination, and yet checking it with gentle restraint, if inclined to pass the bounds of moderation. Amongst the visitors who assailed the quiet of the De Romelies, none were more kind nor more sincerely rejoiced to see them than Lady Dulwich. At the time that she was an inmate of Clarens Court, she had been irresistibly attracted towards the whole family by that magnetic power which emanates from the combination of superior talents with refinement and benevolence; and after her departure, in order to compensate herself for the pain of parting from such friends, she took every method to preserve an intercourse with them. Besides obtaining Mr de Romelie's promise to visit town the succeeding spring, and establish himself near her residence, she reminded them continually of her attachment by innumerable attentions;-pretty souvenirs, music, new books chosen to suit the several readers, had repeatedly arrived at Clarens Court during the autumn and winter, as marks of grateful remembrance from Lady Dulwich, and always accompanied by a letter or a billet, testifying her wish not to be forgotten by those from whom she had received so much kindness. Had Lady Dulwich appeared a mere woman of the world, forgetful of promises, or likely to be saucy in town though civil while receiving obligations in the country, the pride of the De Romelies would have shrunk from making their arrival known to her, or seeking a renewal of acquaintance; but as she had appeared to agree in sentiments, and sympathised with them in all their favourite tastes, so were they convinced that her wish to see them was sincere. And they were not mistaken, for Lady Dulwich did really feel all that she professed; she truly loved the De Romelies, and was only too ardent in her anxiety to gratify Constance, and to contribute to the happiness and satisfaction of the whole family. - at Our finer feelings, it is said by moralists, are blunted in the world, or what is called the world, while we are running the race of pleasure or of ambition; and our sympathies least our sincerity-stifled by selfishness and jarring interests. But it is in the heart the error lies;-if that be true and benevolent, it will expand with kindness and sympathy even in the sphere of fashionable life; and, on the other hand, the most retired and serious life can never warm the heart naturally cold. Narrow selfishness and petty ambition arise in retirement as well as in the world, and perhaps are more readily produced by its confined views than in the jostling world, which at least gives the opportunity of seeing, in a wider range, the wants and desires of others. A disposition to liberality may be extinguished by the chillness of a narrow circle-while it might have been strengthened by the intercourse of society. Probably, in proportion as we mix with mankind, so much the more are we sensible of our mutual dependence for happiness on each other. Be that as it may-and every one can best judge of the effect on their own heart-if they have one— -Lady Dulwich was desirous to introduce the De Romelies to all who could appreciate them, or who were of sufficient consequence or talent to be valuable as acquaintances. She easily obtained permission from Mr de Romelie to make him and Lord Birmanton acquainted, and, though he frequently reminded her that he did not desire a very extensive circle of society, she almost daily introduced another and another friend to the De Romelies. Nobody gave more agreeable dinner parties than Lady Dulwich; always select-the number just enough to produce variety; not too many for general conversation. At her house the two Mr de Romelies met society particularly suited to them, and insensibly they were induced to accept her invitations more frequently than they had at first intended. Engagements rapidly succeeded each other; the prudent resolution formed on arriving in town, of permitting Constance to be out only twice in the week, was soon shaken, and some agreeable dinner, or very tempting evening party, —something, in short, evidently proposed for their amusement, led the De Romelies frequently from home. Their sober plans were forgotten; their home evenings, once spent comfortably in reading and family conversation, were almost laid aside; and, in some weeks after the commencement of Lord Birmanton's acquaintance with the De Romelies, the tenor of their lives had altered, and the fresh and youthful Constance began to form some idea of dissipation—to like the novelty, and hurry, and excitement of it, and to feel a distinct consciousness of the pleasure arising from admiration. CHAPTER III. It was not by vile loitering in ease, That Greece obtain'd the brighter palm of art: It was not thus majestic Rome arose, And o'er the nations shook her conquering dart : Castle of Indolence. AMONGST a crowd of new acquaintances, there were none with whom the De Romelies were so much pleased as Mrs Mortimer and her daughter. They possessed that inexpressible charm which attracts the intellectual towards each other, and the gentleness of Camilla Mortimer particularly excited Constance's interest. Through the kindness of Lady Dulwich, their mutual friend, they had frequently met at her literary breakfasts and soirées; and there was such a similarity in their pursuits, that their intercourse rapidly advanced towards intimacy; in the occupations of the morning, walks or drives, shopping or exhibitions, the Mortimers and De Romelies were fre quently associated. "How I wish that I had your knowledge of painting, and your talent for it!" said Camilla, after she and Constance had been looking at and discussing a new piece by a fashionable artist. "Now I never should have observed those faults in the grouping, had not you directed my attention to them." "I must doubt a little the justice of that representation of yourself," replied Constance; "but, after all, half the world, at least, are as much charmed with that picture as if it were a perfect composition. What more can be requisite ? They have the pleasure of admiring, and the painter has the gratification of praise." "But you, Miss de Romelie, would not value such praise, or consider it a just object of ambition?" "Certainly I should not," said Constance, smiling; "I only supposed it to be the feeling of a mind which could be satisfied to exhibit an indifferent painting to the public. Excellence has been always placed before me as the goal of my exertions, and, however vainly, I always try to advance towards it, even by a little and a little." 66 "Excellence!" exclaimed Camilla, a goal that I never hope even to approach, and yet there is no ". "There, now," interrupted Mrs Mortimer, "is exactly the same fault of which I so often have to accuse you, I mean that weak morbid humility so much resembling genuine indolence! But I interrupt you, my love; what were you going to say?" "I was going to say, mamma, that there is nothing in which I am so anxious to succeed as painting just now, because my brother wishes that I should. When Ferdinand left us, it was his last injunction; but I have done so little, he will think I have neglected it, or will find how poor my attempts have been." "He will find you as when he departed-a dear, good sister, anxious to gratify him to the utmost of your power. But, perhaps, if you will allow Miss de Romelie to judge of what you can do, she may assist in overcoming your too great diffidence. Her example may awaken some energy in your mind, and induce you to lay aside that excess of humility, which, my dear Camilla, I cannot approve." "But after all, mamma, surely it is only our duty to think in a lowly manner of one's self. How often have you remarked to me, that we are always too much inclined to presumption and self-confidence!" "It is very true that humility ought to be in our hearts, and guard us against presumption; but had the principle of self-doubting been allowed to influence the intellectual or ingenious, art and science would yet be in their infancy; none of our beautiful inventions would have been perfected, and many of those brave but daring actions which so much interest us in history would never have occurred. And now, |