in need of support and pity-almost as much as the fatherless."

But in this sally Julia relied too much on her own strength. The expression she herself had inadvertently made use of too fatally recalled her own peculiar causes of affliction. Pressed down by the double disappointment of her heart's dearest wishes, she had now arrived at that morbid state of mind which in every thing finds "fuel for its life-consuming sorrow," and could, too truly, subscribe to that eloquent description of grief-" Savez-vous ce que c'est que la douleur?-C'est lorsque tout fait couler des larmes !-C'est lorsque tout ramène à la même idée-ranime le même chagrin, quoique continuellement senti !"

From her early misfortunes, her feelings had received a shock which it would have required the constant attentions of the tenderest friendship gradually to obliterate. Instead of that, she had met, from Amelia, with unprovoked unkindness. Again silent, from emotion, she left the

field to Amelia, who exerted all her rhetoric to persuade her to give up the party to Hastings, and go with them to Clifton. This earnestness astonished Miss Somerville. A little polite opposition she had expected; but it was now evident that Amelia, who, for some time back, had virtually done every thing to make her home. unpleasant to her, was now equally sincere in the desire to keep her as a guest. What her motive for this new plan of conduct could be, Julia could not divine, but felt certain, whenever the mystery was explained, it would prove to be something which concerned the interest of Mrs. So merville.

Finding all her eloquence vain, for Julia mildly, but firmly, pleaded the impossibility of causelessly disappointing lady Claremont, Amelia had recourse to that froward pettishness which she had reason to think was sometimes found very charming by the idolizing Horatio. -"See, my heart! how ill-natured she is!" 1 6 exclaimed

exclaimed the wayward fair-" she will not give up to oblige me-and in my state of health, too, when I made it a point! how can people be so selfish ?"

Much as he indulged his pretty wife, Horatio could scarcely forbear smiling at this accusation of selfishness, from the spoiled and petted Amelia, who had never, for at least six months past, consulted, in any instance, the wishes of Julia.

But he was not prepared for the modest requisition that followed-" My heart! make her do it, or I will never appear at table again -nay, I will not go down to Clifton unless accompanied by Miss Somerville!"

Here was guerre ouverte, and there seldom has been a more perplexed mortal than Horatio. He despaired, after what had passed, of being able to prevail over the good sense of Julia; and yet he knew nothing short of absolute submission would satisfy the exacting Amelia.

During the few days the family remained in town, there was not an obstacle in

genuity could suggest, that Amelia did not throw in her sister-in-law's way, in order to retain her a prisoner (it could not be called a friend) in her house. Some reader may ask why? Is not this inconsistent with the whole tenor of Mrs. Somerville's wishes and conduct ?-Patience! curious damsel! am I bound to account to thee for the actions of my principal personages? Nevertheless, to allay the fever of curiosity, I here pledge myself, in a very few pages, to unfold the cause of Amelia's new-born taste for her sister's company, and wholly to redeem her from the charge of inconsistency.

By patience, good sense, and good-humour, Julia at length triumphed over these artificial difficulties, and had the satisfaction, without any open quarrel, to find herself settled in lady Claremont's delightful residence at Hastings.

Somerville, however, upon this, the first departure of his once-loved sister from under his roof, felt an aching void in his heart, mingled

mingled with very troublesome sensations, to which some mental physician might perhaps have given the name of self-reproach. This was increased by a trifling incident which happened the day before he left London. In the letter announcing her safe arrival at lady Claremont's, his sister also mentioned, that, by mistake, she had left behind her a pocketbook, containing, as she believed, valuable notes, which she begged him to forward to her. She designated the bureau where it was to be found, and there Somerville discovered it with very little difficulty. He determined to add a very handsome present to the amount of the notes; and opening the pocketbook with that intention, an old letter fell out. Perceiving it was in his own hand, he mechanically glanced his eye over it. It was the letter written during their short and only separation, giving an account of the villa in Cumberland. wards the close, among a variety of affectionate expressions, he met with this oftenrepeated

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