 her distress, had never before had so little compassion. At length it was finished; and as Montague Thorold handed her to the coach, she besought him not to stay supper, if Lady Horatia should ask him; "for I must in that case stay, you know, to entertain you, and really I am so unwell, that it is cruelty to expect it of me." Gratified by the power of obeying her, even when her wishes were contrary to his own; and full of hope that this last struggle, between her lingering love for Willoughby, and the certainty of his having left her for another, would terminate in his own favour, Thorold promised to be wholly governed by her, and took his leave at the door.
"Well, Celestina," said Lady Horatia, as soon as they were alone, "you are now, I think, convinced that Willoughby is, like most other men, capricious, and unfeeling.—What was his conduct to-night, but the

most insulting that it was possible to assume and after receiving a letter too from you, which you consess was couched in the tenderest and most submissive terms, which, as a gentleman, he ought to have answered, had you never had any claim whatever upon him.—I hope, and believe, however, that such conduct will have the happiest effect—that of weaning you for ever from that excessive partiality, which from early prejudice you always appeared to me to think it a merit to cherish. If he quitted you, as he pretended, on account of the doubts raised in his mind, by that sorceress, Lady Castlenorth, why does he not, those doubts being now certainties, own you as his sister, and become your protector as relation? Why, if they are not ascertained, does he poorly shrink from the enquiry, and evade, under such paltry pretences, the engagements which you would surely release: him from, if told that he no longer wished to accomplish them."
Celestina tried to speak, but could not

articulate; and Lady Horatia, whose indignation against Willoughby seemed to increase by indulgence, went on—"Let me conjure you, then, my dear Celestina, to exert that large share of reason, with which you are endowed; and, expelling from your mind all that has passed, try to look forward to happier prospects—to prospects unclouded, by doubt, and undarkened by the gloomy apprehensions of being despised by the family of your husband, and of being reproached as having embarrassed his fortune. Time and reason, the assiduous tenderness of a man who
