 count Melespini.—The instant I saw him, I was struck with the resemblance of that much loved brother.—But how could I flatter myself with the happiness of beholding his son!
AND now, my dear children, continued she, though my consent awaits ye, be assured, that without the court's concurrence, this union never can take place; write to him therefore, Lodovico, and let both him and you rest satisfied, that his will shall in this affair determine mine.
IN the mean time, I hope, said she, your ladyship will dispense with Laura's attendance at Straffon-Hill. Perhaps my brother may have other views for his son; if so, it is best not to indulge an affection too far, which may be productive of unhappy consequences: for, be assured, that however deserving the object, however virtuous the attachment, no marriage can be truly blest, that pains a parent's heart.—A too energic sigh accompanied these words: but, added she, when lady Straffon honours me with her company, I hope my nephew will attend her.
IT was very visible that Lodovico complied reluctantly with these conditions; and perhaps Laura, for the first time, found obedience difficult.—But as her ladyship seemed determined, a bow of assent was the only reply that was made. Signior Lodovico and I returned home, soon after this conversation.
BY the way he accounted to me for not knowing

that lady Somerville or Laura were related to him, as he had always heard them call Statevilla, which is their name in Italian. I find he intends making as much use as possible of the privilege of attending me to lady Somerville's; so that I expect to pass much of my time at the cottage.
HE is now retired to acquaint his father with the happy discovery he has made of his relations, and his sentiments towards his fair cousin. I shall be truly impatient for the count's answer.—I hope it will be favourable; if it should not, I fear all lady Somerville's precaution will be insufficient to prevent the attachments of the young people, though I believe it would be impossible to draw Laura from her obedience.
I HAVE been so much engaged in the affairs of the Somerville family for these two days, that I have scarce had leisure to think of my own.—You may therefore excuse my not entering upon the critical distinctions you have made on the various modes of misery in your last letter. I heartily wish you would take the opposite extreme for your subject, and descant on your own
