CHAPTER V.

Clotilda. Hath time no power upon thy hopeless love? Imogen. Yea, time hath power, and what a power I'll tell thee

A power to change the pulses of the heart
To one dull throb of ceaseless agony→→
To hush the sigh on the resigned lip,
And lock it in the heart-freeze the hot tear,
And bid it on the eyelid hang for ever,
Such power hath time o'er me,

Successful love may wear itself away;

MATURIN,

The wretched are the faithful; 'tis their fate
To have all feeling, save the one, decay,

And every passion into one dilate,

As rapid rivers into ocean pour. Lament of Tasso.

THE history of the "two angels" left the mind of Julia a prey to the most bitter and painful reflections. By a natural return upon herself, she could not forbear admiring the sort of fatality that seemed

VOL. IV.

E

to

to follow the peculiar infatuation of her brother. But for this passion for appearing other than he really was, Somerville would never have been, in the eyes of either aunt or niece, a desirable alliance. Julia, in the little history she gave Amelia, had indeed placed his situation in a juster point of view; but we always incline to believe what we wish, rather than what militates against our inclinations; and Amelia's first object, at that time, was to escape from Miss Ravenshawe. Yet those would do her wrong who should imagine Mrs. Somerville wholly destitute of good qualities. To the violent temper and passions which she shared with her aunt and mother, Amelia added something in her own character that was noble, elevated, and tender; but these dispositions never having been formed into habits, only displayed themselves by fits and starts, and were insufficient to regulate the tenor of her general conduct. Her aunt had so often and so earnestly repeated to

hér,

her, that the least outward indication of her feelings was unbecoming in a young lady of her rank in life, that Amelia had succeeded in acquiring that elegant serenity, approaching almost to mannerism, which Somerville had noticed in the beginning of their acquaintance; but this culture having never been extended to her heart or mind, the one was left to all its treacherous softness, the other to its dangerous exaltation. Still Mrs. Somerville cherished the purest principles of honour. She determined to fly the dangerous Armine, if she could not behold him with safety; but the struggles she made to smother a reviving flame caused an agitation in her mind that often rendered her temper insupportable. Alternately secure and apprehensive, Amelia passed from the extremes of hysterical dejection to triumphant gaiety; she enjoyed nothing with tranquillity and moderation-she did nothing with consistency and regularity. I wrong

E 2

I wrong her; she was consistent in the dislike she had taken to poor Julia-a dislike which began very soon after her marriage, but which was confirmed from the unlucky whisper at the opera, that she thought implied an insulting suspicion of her firmness. Her feelings were the most complicated with regard to this unfortunate sister-in-law; for they were composed, in an equal proportion, of respect and contempt she looked down upon Miss Somerville's connexions and family, and she stood in awe of her talents and understanding. All that tender familiarity, cette douce égalité, which had subsisted between the friends, before marriage, was banished from the sisters after it. It was no longer "Julia" and "Amelia," sweetsounding and affectionate names; Mrs. Somerville had managed to get rid of them in a manner sufficiently dexterous. The first time Julia addressed her thus in London" Am I not worthy then to be called

called sister?" she replied; and from that moment their intercourse was established upon a different footing.

Persons of real family are not apt to be ridiculously proud of their descent; but to this Amelia was an exception. The daughter of a new-made peer, who can hardly reckon back a single generation without stumbling upon a grocer, could not be more vain of precedence, more tenacious of the “ honourable," than was Amelia Somerville; and in a variety of ways she made Julia feel what a presump tion she conceived it to be, in her, a mer. chant's daughter, to venture, though in the most delicate manner, to give advice to the daughter of a nobleman.

A stranger in her brother's house, without rank or rights assigned her, her place taken by the person whom she had first introduced to his notice, every thing conspired to break the heart, and crush the spirit, of the noble-minded, though gentle Julia; and she beheld, with surprise and consternation,

E 3