twenty-eighth year, had also an insuperable aversion to the age of nineteen. Julia, therefore, who had the accumulated misfortune of being beautiful, and just nineteen, was the object of general dislike to these ladies. The Miss C_+'s, who were of all Mrs. Melbourne's parties, usually placed themselves in a corner of the room with Miss Melbourne, and found amusement in laughing at the rest of the company as they entered. When any gentleman approached their circle, the laugh was increased; for they were of that order of young ladies who, having heard of the attractions of sprightliness, affect perpetual mirth, and fancy that vivacity consists in a titter, and wit in a pert remark: yet it was easy to discern that their gaiety was artificial, because it was always beyond what the occasion justified. It resembled those flowers which are reared in winter by the force of art, and are destitute of that delicious fragrance which nature only can bestow. Miss Melbourne and the Miss C_+'s had long been on a very intimate footing, professed the most violent mutual regard, and were commonly called friends: yet this intimacy, which was dignified with the name of friendship, had no other foundation than selfishness; for, had Miss Melbourne renounced her balls and concerts, or the Miss C_+'s been deprived of their rank, this sentimental intercourse would instantly have terminated: mean while their affection appeared fervent, because it was untried; and durable, because it was yet unshaken by misfortune. Miss Melbourne was lately married; the visits of the Miss C_+'s were therefore no longer frequent at her mother's house; and Julia looked forward to nothing but pleasure in the society of the affectionate and amiable Charlotte. She also promised herself a new kind of gratification, in mixing for awhile with the gay and elegant parties at Mr. Seymour's, the gentleman whom Miss Melbourne had married, and who indulged her in her fondness for splendor and dissipation.—Nature, who had been avaricious of the qualities of taste and sensibility to Mrs. Melbourne, had given an accumulated portion of both to her daughter, together with more than an hereditary share of beauty. She was a painter and a musician; but her vanity perverted every natural and acquired talent, "grew with her growth, and strengthened with her strength," and kept pace with her understanding and accomplishments. Vanity made her selfish; for she was so extravagantly fond of admiration, that, in the continual pursuit of it, she could think only of herself, and forgot all the claims of others