Let

of others, is desirous to share with all our fellow-mortals that blessed light which cheers the Christian's path. us remember, my dear Rachel, and let us imitate, that heavenly benevolence which expressed those words of tender regret, How often would I have gathered you under my wings, and ye would not!" "

"For my part," said Constance, who had listened with silent but deep attention to this argument," I have learned from you the benign influence of spiritual religion; you have opened my mind to true faith, and shewed me how faith and conduct are connected; and your mildness and toleration have made me wish to follow you, dear Miss Talbot, in all that you profess."

"I must acknowledge that Aunt Lucy does truly exemplify the beauty of Christian benevolence in her own life," said Lady Rachel; "and though she does overlook too easily those errors which ought to separate her from some, she certainly is, I may say, truly excellent herself."

66

My dear Rachel," said Miss Talbot, "let us each endeavour ourselves after the highest prize; but let us not judge of minor errors with harshness. Alas! sin must prevail for a time, but piety and virtue will be remembered. Butler says most truly in one of his sermons, 'Indeed, there are welldisposed persons who want to be admonished how dangerous a thing it is to discountenance what is good because it is not better, and who hinder what they approve by raising prejudices against some under part of it.'”

CHAPTER XVI.

Alas! how vain is happiness below!

Man soon or late must have his share of woe;
Slight are his joys, and fleeting as the wind;

His griefs wound home, and leave a sting behind.

DAYS and weeks rolled on, and Colonel Mortimer's attachment to Constance became more and more evident to her friends.

Conscious of his attentions, her vanity, gratified by the notice of so distinguished a person, had already begun to influence her judgment, though she was not convinced that she had won his affection. Her admiration of the achievements and character of Colonel Mortimer had been increased by her nurse's simple tale, and the many interesting circumstances relative to his conduct in India, which she heard mentioned in every circle, contributed to strengthen her prepossession. She listened eagerly to all she heard of him when it pleased her; if faults or errors were alluded to, she considered such remarks as arising from prejudice or envy, and turned her thoughts from them as not worthy of her notice.

Aware of her mother's prejudice against him, she seldom spoke of him to her but she became desirous to know Miss Talbot's estimate of his character, and she determined to learn her opinion, feeling at the same time some surprise that she had never happened to hear her speak of so remarkable a person.

A favourable opportunity soon occurred. The De Romelies and Mortimers were to meet at dinner at Birmanton House, and Constance anticipated the enjoyment of peculiar pleasure, at once in the society of her friend and Colonel Mortimer.

The guests assembled at Birmanton House; but, to the great disappointment of Constance, Miss Talbot did not appear. Lady Rachel expressed her aunt's regret that a severe headache confined her to her chamber. Her absence seemed to cast a damp on every one; the day passed heavily; Colonel Mortimer was silent and constrained in manner; Lord Birmanton was grave; Constance was disappointed at not seeing Miss Talbot; and even Lady Rachel seemed less lively and amusing than usual.

In the evening, however, Constance was gratified by a message from Miss Talbot, requesting to see her. After they had conversed for some time, Constance was just going to ask her opinion of Colonel Mortimer, when she was prevented by Miss Talbot's saying, "I thank you, my dear Constance, for giving me this half hour-your conversation is always agreeable to me. I am nervous to-day-I frequently am; and it was particularly soothing to have your company here. When I feel nervous I withdraw from society that I may not be a weight on others; quiet is my best cordial.”

"I am aware of that, dear Miss Talbot; but I particularly regret your illness this day, for you would have seen Colonel Mortimer; I do so wish to know your opinion of him. His conversation is very agreeable; though, indeed, I must say that he was uncommonly silent to-day. You have not seen him yet, I believe?"

"I have not met him-lately; but I know he is verya very remarkable person-that he has distinguished himself."

"Yes; and it is rather unaccountable to me-my mother does not seem to like him; she has not that admiration of him that seems so general. She is prejudiced by some old history that she was told of an attachment—an engagement, I believe in which people accuse him of failing-something of that sort; I am certain it is a mistake. But you look pale and fatigued; I will not stay longer now; I will only say that Camilla was in hopes you would have seen her too. I had better leave you now. I have fatigued you, I am sure. Good-night."

'Stay-stay one moment. No, my dear young friend, you have not fatigued me; when I have a severe headache, I am always pale, and easily agitated. In Camilla you have

a very amiable friend: I love Camilla, but I could not have seen her to-night-I wished to see you only."

"How kind you are to admit me, to allow me to sit with you!"

"Constance! you do not know what strong affection I feel for you. But I have not answered your question about Ferdinand-I mean Colonel Mortimer. I am very sorry that Mrs de Romelie has any prejudice against him. That foolish attachment was but a youthful fancy; it should be forgotten now it naturally faded away, when the military life, to which he so ardently devoted himself, occupied his mind and heart; and—and, of course, the lady to whom he had been engaged released him from all promises when she perceived the change."

"You know her, then!"

Miss Talbot not appearing to notice the remark, proceeded— "That circumstance is fact, I know ; I wish your mother was aware of it. I know that Colonel Mortimer has broken no engagement; I am certain his honour is as pure in private as in public life. Many circumstances concurred to diminish his attachment, and it should be thought of no more. And now, good-night, my very dear Constance! I wish that Mortimer may obtain the prize he aspires to; but I will say no more now ;" and tenderly embracing her, she turned away-her hand pressed upon her forehead.

As Constance slowly closed the door, she saw her friend sink on her knees in the attitude of prayer. Her countenance had an agonised expression, which painfully recurred to the thoughts of Constance during the remainder of the evening.

"I am glad Aunt Lucy was able to see you," said Lady Rachel; "she likes your company, and is as much attached to you as if you were really her niece."

"Her kindness to me is indeed most gratifying," replied Constance. "How delightfully she sympathises in the interests and fancies of young people! she makes me forget that she is older than I am."

'My aunt has not been soured, indeed, by her misfortunes. She is peculiarly mild: she and my sister Jane have the same disposition overflowing with kindness; but Jane has been always happy; poor Aunt Lucy has been unfortunate, I know, though I have never heard her story. I have some

times been tempted to ask her to tell it to me, but there is a dignified reserve in her manner, which, mild as she is, deters me. I will ask her for you, Constance."

No, pray do not; it would be painful to her to refuse, she is so indulgent, and very distressing to 'comply. However interesting the circumstances, the gratification to our curiosity would be nothing compared with the pain of reviving the acuteness of her feelings."

"Miss de Romelie judges rightly, as she always does," said Lord Birmanton, turning quickly from a table at which he was standing with Colonel Mortimer, near Lady Rachel. Lowering his voice, he continued, "I advise you, Rachel, not to yield to ill-timed curiosity. Leave the whole in oblivion; and I entreat you to make no such allusions from henceforth. It will be most considerate to all parties."

Lady Rachel looked vexed at her father's gravity, and was silent.

Constance meanwhile began to look at a set of views which Lord Birmanton had been shewing to Colonel Mortimer. They were sketches by his son, Lord Lynthorpe, while in the east. She made some remarks on them to Mortimer, and asked him several questions relative to them; but his replies were distraits, and his manner more reserved than she had ever before observed it. She felt that he was at times trying to examine her countenance, though she could not imagine why; and knowing he could see nothing more than usual there, she did not endeavour to withdraw, though she would have been happy to do so.

Constance was truly glad when this very uncomfortable evening came to an end. Few of the company seemed at ease at least they did not appear to Constance to be so ; and the silence and formality, so unusual at Birmanton House, were depressing, and strengthened the painful impression which the suffering appearance of Lucy Talbot had left on the mind of Constance.