passion, that I consented to tell my mother that my happiness depended on my union with him.

She, dear good soul, having shed a few tears at the declaration, that the happiness of her Augusta depended on any one save her, and papa, and having expressed some wonder that, on so short an acquaintance, a serious attachment could be formed, and some doubts that I could be happy away from parents who adored me, sought papa, to tell him what

I desired he should know. No sooner had she left the room, than I wished to recall her. Her last observation had touched a chord in my heart that vibrated painfully; and I asked myself, while tears streamed down my cheeks, whether, indeed, I could be happy, away from the dear, the indulgent parents, whom I was willing to abandon for a man unknown to me a few weeks ago? I felt tempted to follow her

to my father's room, and to adopt their rejection of Lord Annandale, or, at least, to retard my

acceptance of him for a year or two: but shame, and a dread of the imputation of giddiness and vacillation, to which so rapid a change in my feelings might have given rise, checked the impulse; and I remained weeping in my room, frightened at the dilemma into which my own weakness had reduced me, and awaiting with dread, the result of that intercession on the part of mamma, for which, only a few minutes before, I had warmly pleaded.

How strange is the human heart! or, at least, that specimen of it which is now throbbing in my breast. While listening to Lord Annandale's passionate entreaties to be his, I fancied that he was dear to me-nay, almost believed my own assertion, that my happiness depended on a union with him; yet, now that my parents have yielded to

his solicitation, supposing that this concession was necessary to the peace of their child, I feel as if he had become indifferent to me, and I wonder how I could ever have imagined that I loved him.

When subsequently he came to me, all rapture at the consent of my father, and thanked me for having obtained it, I experienced an instinctive desire to tell him the state of my feelings: but shame again withheld me, joined to a latent doubt of the possibility of another change in my sentiments; consequently, I let him pour out his impassioned vows of eternal affection and gratitude, while I coldly suffered, instead of participating his happiness. Surely I do not, cannot, love this man, or I could not feel thus coldly on such an occasion: yet, he is handsome and agreeable, and, a few hours ago, I thought him much more than this. Counsel me, dearest Caroline; tell me if there

is yet time to avow to my parents the real state of my inclinations, and to be equally candid with Lord Annandale. It seems to me to be cruel to let him continue in the erroneous belief that I love him, when the illusion has vanished from my own mind; and yet how miserable will such an avowal render him, adoring me as he does!

No, I have not courage to inflict unhappiness on another: let me rather bear it myelf, since to my own levity, and want of selfknowledge, it is due. I am now sensible that I have been dazzled and flattered by this, the first passion I have inspired; and that I have mistaken the transient gratitude occasioned by gratified vanity, for a more fervent sentiment. Lord Annandale has told me, that he fears Lady Delaward may prejudice me against him; and that this apprehension was one of the reasons which urged him to press his suit before I had

exterior.

again seen her. He attempted to pass some ill-natured pleasantries on her prudery, and old-fashioned formality of manners; said that she disliked every one who was not as straightlaced as herself: but I checked his raillery, as I cannot bear to hear Lady Delaward spoken ill of by those who judge her only from a cold To-morrow, we set out to Delaward Park, and Lord Annandale goes to his seat in Gloucestershire. I feel a sense of relief at our separation; for, he is so overjoyed and happy, that my calmness, if not gravity, forms a contrast not pleasant to me, and not, I should think, likely to be gratifying to him. If all women leave their accepted lovers with as little regret as I have experienced in separating from mine, why, then, I envy neither the lover, nor the loved.

Your affectionate

AUGUSTA VERNON.