a distance from each other at table; and in the walks, which they frequently took along the wild and rugged boundaries of the lake, where they sometimes wandered near the edge of the cliffs, or descended the hills by steep and formidable paths, Mr. Seymour, even when Charlotte was escorted by any other gentleman, never offered his arm to Julia, if there was any other lady present. Julia was no less reserved to wards him; but, if she happened to walk behind him, she always observed

that when the path was dangerous, he could not resist looking back repeatedly, to see if she was safe. He appeared to be solicitous to converse with any of Charlotte's female visitors in preference to Julia: yet, notwithstanding this behaviour, it was easy for that young lady to perceive that he was acting a part which he performed with great difficulty; but she was happy, at least she believed she was happy, that he had resolution enough to observe this conduct.
Seymour, by unremitted efforts, concealed the state of his mind from Charlotte. All her unsuspecting heart perceived, was his reserve towards Julia, for which she could not account; but which gave her uneasiness; and with the frankness natural to her disposition, she sometimes complained to him of his inattention to her cousin, and reminded him of particular instances of neglect; which he generally excused, by observing that he had been wholly occupied by herself.

Charlotte once mentioned to Julia something of Seymour's inattention to her. Julia coloured violently; Charlotte thought it the blush of resentment, and said no more on the subject.
Had Mr. Clifford been a man of much observation, it is probable he would have remarked the change in Seymour's behaviour to his niece. But Mr. Clifford paid little attention to the minuter traits of manners, and being at present wholly occupied in arranging his affairs, previously to his daughter's marriage, and improving the grounds round his house, the sensations of Seymour's mind were by him entirely unnoticed. Mr. Clifford was delighted to see his lawns assume a brighter verdure; his shrubbery filled with every plant that could embellish it; his woods affording the most venerable shade, or opening into vistas, that presented the most sublime landscape—and was unconscious, that to the wounded spirit of Seymour, nature had lost her beauty, and

the earth its pleasantness!—Mr. Clifford was in the situation of one of those sheltered trees, which grew in his own cultivated vallies, protected from the violence of the winds, and feeling only the gentlest influence of the