 companion for Lady Clementina, the daughter of a poor Scotch earl, whom he had chosen,

merely that he might be proud of her family; though, in return, he should suffer that family to be ashamed of his.
If Henry's wife was not fit company for Lady Clementina, it is to be hoped she was company for angels—she died within the first year of her marriage, a faithful, an affectionate wife and a mother.
When William heard of her death, he felt a sudden shock—and a kind of fleeting thought glanced across his mind, that
"Had he known she had been so near her dissolution, she might have been introduced to Lady Clementina: and he himself would have called her sister."
That is (if he had defined his fleeting idea) "they would have had no objection to have met this poor woman for the last time; and would have descended to the familiarity of kindred, in order to have wished her a good journey to the other world."
Or, is there in death something that so raises the abjectness of the poor, that, on their approach to its sheltering abode, the arrogant believer feels the equality he had before denied, and trembles?


THE wife of Henry had been dead near six weeks before the dean heard the news: a month then elapsed in thoughts by himself, and consultations with Lady Clementina, how he should conduct himself, on this occurrence. Her advice was,
"That as Henry was the youngest, and by their stations, in every sense, the dean's inferior, he ought first to make overtures of reconciliation."
The dean answered, "He had no doubt of his brother's good will to him: but that he had reason to think, from the knowledge of his temper, he would be more likely to come to him upon an occasion to bestow comfort, than to receive it: for instance, if I had suffered the misfortune of losing you, my brother, I have no doubt, would have forgotten his resentment, and—"
She was offended that the loss of the vulgar wife of Henry should be compared to the loss of her—she lamented her

indiscretion in forming an alliance with a family of no rank, and implored the dean to wait till his brother should make some concession to him, before he renewed the acquaintance.
Though Lady Clementina had mentioned on this occasion her indiscretion, she was of a prudent age—she was near forty—yet, possessing rather a handsome face and person, she would not have impressed the spectator with an idea that she was near so old, had
