 mind not to make his thoughts evident by stopping before he had finished the sentence. Lady Aubrey

seemed so much affected by the paragraph that she soon after left the room.
I wished much to follow her: but recollecting that any private conversation at that moment must naturally have led to subjects which I wish as much as possible in future to avoid, I forebore my intention; and when she returned some time after into the room, I rejoiced that I had not given way to my first impulse, as though her eyes were red, she conversed with a sedate chearfulness which testified her determination of combating all melancholy retrospections that might lead to repining and despondency, and soon after proposed conducting me thro' the different apartments of this elegant abode (the morning having been employed at church) which infinitely surpassed my expectations in point of magnificence. It is much too spacious in my opinion for the residence of a single,

solitary individual. However a large establishment of servants, and a chearful situation, in a eat measure atone for this defect, which Lady Aubrey herself remarked to me while we were surveying it. It is the spot where my predecessors have resided time immemorial, said she; and my grandfather made it an article in his will that I should inhabit the house, and not suffer it to fall into decay.
There is a collection of most valuable pictures; and a large library, where I intend passing several hours every day, stored with the works of the best authors in all languages. I never was less in a mood for study; but for that very reason I must endeavour to force a relish for every employment that banishes musing. At present, however, I am incapable of any exertion; for I am really far from well, and as much exhausted as

if I had gone a journey of five hundred miles at least.
JUNE 24.
Our guests left us to-day, which I regret much. Mrs. Berry seldom leaves her family even for so long a period as a few days, and her present visit was a particular compliment to Lady Aubrey, to whom I suspect she and her husband have peculiar obligations.
I have received a letter from Fanny, dated Saturday evening. She writes to inform me of Lord Linrose's death, with which she had been made acquainted a few hours after I left her, by a note from Mr. Roatsley, merely mentioning the event and the time it took place, as a piece of respect due to relations of the family. Mr. Howard, she tells me, wrote a letter of condolence next morning,

to
