between the sisters, she looked, fixedly, first at Mrs. Somerville, then at lady Claremont.

Amelia caught her eye-" No," she continued, with increasing spirit, "I am safer from the African magician than some ladies are from a certain Pastor Fido, for whose sake they did not over-scrupulously regard the virtue of the magic ring itself." Lady Claremont but partially comprehended the meaning of this obliging speech, the whole venom of which was designed for the offending Julia.

Amelia had frequently availed herself, among other arms, of a pretended suspicion that Lascelles and Julia had confessed a mutual attachment to each other previous to the death of the deserving Anna; and when Julia indignantly repelled the accusation, always laughed and apologized; but it was in the manner of those who are" convinced against their will." Cruelly hurt at the publicity of this sarcasm, Julia left the ladies to finish their conver

sation without any further animadversionon her part. Unable to succeed with her sister, lady Claremont soon afterwards took leave; and Amelia, observing, as she regularly did after a visit of her ladyship's, that her spirits were unequal to keep up with her entertaining Charlotte's, retired to her dressing-room, to recover the fatigues of the day.

Somerville was engaged to a public dinner—a circumstance he lamented with unaffected tenderness, when he observed his dear Amelia more than usually overcome; and recommending her to Julia's particular care, he, with repeated fond farewells, left the ladies together.

At the hour when Miss Somerville ex-. pected to share her repast with Amelia, Mrs. Somerville's own woman came down with “her lady's compliments; and as she felt so very unwell, she would not leave her dressing-room any more that day, but begged Miss Somerville would have din

ner

ner just as usual, and not disturb herself to go to her."

sneer.

Such were the disagreeable terms on which Julia had long lived with Amelia, that she knew not whether to interpret this polite message into an attention or a Determined, however, to take every thing in the best point of view, she, without further comment, sent up to Mrs. Somerville any thing she chose to have, and took her own meal in solitude and silence.

As may be well supposed, it was not long; and as soon as the cloth was removed, Julia, drawing her chair towards the fire, began meditating on the surprise and disappointment she had experienced as this extraordinary character had gradually developed itself.

But Julia's was one of those gentle minds which can scarcely meditate long on any character without feeling moved to interest, and then to indulgence. Recol

lecting

lecting her brother's parting charge," am I not in fault?" she asked herself. "Blameable as Amelia's conduct has been to me, she is certainly depressed in spirits and in languid health. She surely would be cheered by my presence; and shall I, adhering to the letter of a message, perhaps not correctly delivered, keep aloof in sullen reserve, leaving her deprived of my brother's soothing attentions-given up to mercenary attendants suffering

spiritless solitary!"

4

Affected to a painful degree by the picture she herself had drawn, the acuteness of Julia's feelings would not admit of any delay in her benevolent intentions; and running up the dressing-room stairs, without waiting to have herself announced, she just gave a gentle tap at the door, and at the same moment opened it. Miss Somerville found her sister-in-law, who had just dined, looking a little better, and also better dressed than she was in the morning. Opposite to her, apparently engaged

gaged in earnest conversation, sat captain De Ross.

"This is too kind of you, my dear sister," said Amelia, without the least embarrassment; "I think I mentioned being so ill, I could see none but my own family."

At this apostrophe Julia felt a strong inclination to laugh; but, recollecting the ill luck of her last solitary fit of laughter, she restrained herself.

"I did not mean to include you—you animal!" continued Amelia, directing a look of obliging reproach towards De Ross. "But the fact is," turning again to Miss Somerville, "when my cousin Armine, who was to have accompanied us to the play, learnt from Charlotte that my ill health did not allow me to go out, he could not resolve to leave London without personally inquiring after me.-He leaves town to-night."

Captain De Ross added a few words in confirmation of this statement, to which the