 sequestered from the world as himself, and for probably as extraordinary reasons. He therefore returned a proper compliment, and, at a time perfectly convenient to her—that is to say, when she had put on a new cap, and otherwise prepared for his reception—he took the liberty of paying his respects to her.
Neither Charles nor the lady would probably have made so much ceremonious preparation for this interview if they had foreseen how intimately they were known to each other; for they had scarcely met when she exclaimed—for women's perception, as well as their tongues, is always forwardest—
'Good heavens! Mr. Hazard!'
—which he answered as emphatically, with
'God bless my soul, Madame Combrie!'
And then recollecting that she was said to be a widow, he felt a singular mixed sensation of surprise and pleasure, which gave a strange embarrassed awkwardness to his manner, and prevented him from following up his exclamation with a compliment.

Whether this proceeded from an inclination to enquire after Combrie, which the knowledge of her present situation forbid, I will not determine.—Certainly

the lady chose to interpret it in this light, for she immediately said,
'You look as if you would ask for poor Combrie, Mr. Hazard: he is no more. He had scarcely made me independant, when I lost him; but I am hastening after him, and we shall one day yet be happy together.'

Charles softened the conversation, declared himself heartily sorry for her loss, but begged she would not dwell upon any part of those circumstances which brought up the recollection of any thing that pained her on remembrance.
She said she was obliged to him, but she had long since learnt to be perfectly resigned to all that could happen, and the conversation of such a friend as he had proved himself, would be as agreeable to her as it had been unexpected.
When Mrs. Combrie was in the communicative vein, our hero suffered her to inform him of the particulars relative to her affairs, after the recovery of her fortune. What Combrie had written of his going to England, was but a feint; for, embarking at Rouen, for Dunkirk, where he arrived in safety, he posted immediately for Brussels. From Brussels, which they considered as too public a place, they removed to Ypres; but, previous to this,

Combrie took a journey to Amsterdam, and there lodged their money. At Ypres they lived two years and a half in perfect happiness, and were blessed with a daughter, who dying in the small pox, her father, who had never had that
