 fate had occasioned such various reports and conjectures. Most people, it seems, believed him dead of the illness which had followed the discovery: and this rumour was probably spread, or at least tacitly confirmed by his friends; who must have regarded it as the most likely means of putting a speedy termination to all curiosity and speculation on the subject.
You may believe both Fanny and I anxiously enquired if any intelligence relating to the unfortunate Lady Linrose had ever come to his knowledge. Mr. Howard said, that all he knew

was from general report only; but a story which had excited so strongly the attention of the public, could scarcely be concealed in any of its particulars. Lady Linrose recovered her intellects, he said, (alas! in such circumstances, the return of reason can hardly be called a blessing); but after the severe shock she had received, finding herself unfit for society, she had left England and fixed her abode in the most private manner abroad. Mr. Howard next informed us, that my uncle, whom he had often occasionally seen, had been thoroughly reinstated, to all appearance, in my grandfather's favour; that he had two sons, and he believed two if not three daughters, and that in them Lord Belmont's affections were said to be as entirely centered as his wealth must necessarily be at his decease.
This part of the family then, you may believe, will not look with eyes of

partiality on those who have some little claim to share in what they may have conceived to be solely their own: at least that is not an unnatural conclusion, and I have drawn it from a hint which, Mr. Howard let drop with regard to my aunt, the present Lady Linrose, whom it appears he has heard accused of a very avaricious disposition. Unwilling, however, to prejudice us against so near a relation, he afterwards endeavoured to palliate what seemed to have fallen from him through a friendly apprehension that she might not be much rejoiced at our appearance and pretensions.
He even knows we expect, we wish for nothing. Contented with what my father has bequeathed us, thankfully would we relinquish every further claim, only to be considered as Lord Belmont's children, and favoured with his countenance. Fanny, however, who is following

my pen, exclaims against this moderation, as she calls it, and protests she never will consent to the proposal. After having been so long buried in solitude she longs, she says, to make some figure in the world, (I give you her own words) to which
