 her, intervened; and now Cavanaugh was every hour in hopes that he should be set free from his matrimonial engagements—and possess himself of the prize so long the object of his ambition, and the end of all his designs.
Miss Fitz-Hayman and Willoughby now were to discuss the means by which, with the least prejudice to her, their intended union could then be broken off.—The lady, though she did not ingenuously own it, had many reasons for accepting, unconditionally, her cousin's generous offer, to take the whole burthen of their displeasure upon himself.—She knew, hot only the extravagant and furious passions which any suspicion of its real cause would excite in her mother, but she was aware of the increasing fondness of her father for his nephew; and apprehended, that if he appeared the injured and forsaken person, that fondness might urge him to make

him amends, by giving him a part of the great sums and estates that were in his own power—and this, rich as she would still have been, she had not any disposition to promote.
After some debate, then, in what way Willoughby should excuse himself, and his rejection (on account of their falsehood) of some method which Miss Fitz-Hayman proposed; he at length determined to write to Lady Castlenorth, stating simply, that he had changed his mind, and found it impossible to fulfil his engagements: and leave it to her to break it to her Lord as she thought proper; for he imagined any letter from himself might be a still severer shock, unless he could assign better reasons than any it was possible for him to offer.
This point being settled, Miss Fitz-Hayman retired to recover herself from the effects of the scene she had passed through; and to study her part in those that were to come.—Willoughby returned, unseen by all but Justina, to his hotel; where he composed a short note to the purport they had agreed Upon; and early the next morning he set out on

horseback for Lyons, from whence he intended to proceed, along the coast of the Mediterranean, to the Pyrenees, and to pass some weeks among those mountains which he had never yet seen.
The recent and extraordinary events that had befallen him, gave his mind sufficient subject for contemplation, during the first part of his journey.—It was now very certain that he was for ever released, and that by means which left him nothing to reproach himself with, from his engagements with Miss Fitz-Hayman, and of course from that promise to his mother, in consequence of which those
