 eyes challenged his admiration of the woman, whose merit justified the sentiments he entertained for her.
At parting, he told the ladies, that, sin• he was going to Paris, as well as they, h• hoped they would allow him the pleasure of • scorting them; and that he would regulate h• journey entirely by their's.

Henrietta, who well remembered to have seen these travellers taking the very contrary route, was a little surprised at this declaration; but miss Belmour, absorbed in her own reflections, was wholly ignorant of that circumstance; and, considering this offer in no other light than that of general politeness, she received it with her usual complaisance.
The youth and beauty of the two ladies made their apparent independent situation a matter of curiosity to Mr. Freeman, as well as the profound melancholy in which one of them seemed buried.
Melvil was little concerned in these enqui•ies; all his thoughts were taken up with the perfections he found in her who had charmed him; and he was much less solicitous to discover who she was, than how to make himself agreeable to her. He found she was not married, by the other lady's giving her the title of miss when she spoke to her; and he was perfectly satisfied with this knowledge. Conscious of the ardor with which he already loved this fair stranger, he was apprehensive of awakening the fears of his friend, by dwelling too long on her praises; but he received the testimony, which Freeman could not help giving to her merit, with such an undisguised

transport, as drew from him some serious admonitions, which he rallied off with a sprightly air, and then changed the discourse to a less interesting subject.

THO' miss Belmour's melancholy ha• hindered her from taking any great sha• in the conversation during this visit, yet he mind was still free enough to observe, tha• Henrietta had made an impression upon the heart of Mr. Melvil. She congratulated he• smiling, upon her conquest; nor did her railery even spare her: for Henrietta, who, fo• a full hour, had appeared animated with a extraordinary vivacity, became all on a sudd• pensive and silent. This change exactly commenced at the time Mr. Melvil went away but she did not perceive it herself, and started as from a dream, when miss Belmour reproach her with it.
Concerned that she had given room for suspicion of this nature, she began, as soon

she was alone, to examine her own heart: miss Belmour had praised the personal graces of Mr. Melvil, and it was but justice to own
