 but I cannot deny myself, said she, the gratification of your company from mere motives of cold ceremony, while my heart is under the influence of sentiments so fervent. I am soothed and gratified beyond expression, continued she. My rest last night was more refreshing and tranquil than any I have enjoyed since my accident, which, far from accounting unfortunate, I shall ever regard as the blessing of providence. With a heart overflowing with gratitude to the Almighty, I offered up my humble

thanks, and composed myself to sleep with an inward sensation of relief and satisfaction, which cast a gleam of contentment even over my dreams and my repose.
She appeared indeed calm and composed beyond our most sanguine hopes; and tho' a tear of feeling often fell from her eye, and her bosom heaved with an oppression not to be suppressed, a smile of resigned benevolence often broke thro' the sedate melancholy seated on her interesting countenance, and her sighs seemed more the offspring of relief than uneasiness.
Amidst the effusions of that melting and soothing tenderness which linked our hearts together, and which was tacitly acknowledged to have but one common source in my dear father, yet was his name not once pronounced. Amidst the free and mutual communication which a heart-felt interest claimed, tho' to this

every circumstance alluded and every enquiry tended, it was a point at which none of us could arrive. It seemed too sacred, too aweful to be uttered, and must have led to particulars at which for worlds we would not as yet have ventured to hint.
Lady Aubrey, however, by degrees informed us of all we were most anxious to know: that during the whole period of our residence abroad she had maintained a constant correspondence with Mr. Bensley, unknown to every one, and under promise of profound secrecy. Doubtless the appearance of preserving an intercourse of any kind with the avowed friend of my father, must have seemed an act of impropriety in the eyes of her own family, and might have been deemed romantic by the world; yet could not this amiable, this angelic woman, remain contentedly ignorant of the fate of a man to whom her whole heart had

once been given up, however unworthy he had proved himself by overwhelming her with unmerited shame and despair, and by driving her, in the gay season of a youth which fortune and nature had conspired to bless with a thousand envied advantages, to bury herself in solitude and obscurity.
The desire of addressing myself to Mr. Benseley, said Lady Aubrey, had taken possession of my mind for several months previous to my quitting England.
