and the pride with which she listens to my remarks on its visible improvement and growing intelligence,-you would not ask what I propose to myself!

The happiness of the present seems all I dare look to; and so dearly do I prize it, that I tremble to anticipate any change.

She admits me to her boudoir during the morning, when Miss Montressor and the child only are with her; allows me to read Italian aloud to her while she draws: and there are moments, when seated in this retired and delicious sanctuary, the ladies pursuing their feminine occupations, and the child climbing my knees, that I indulge the illusion that she belongs to me by the most holy tie, and that the child is ours.

I am too soon awakened from this blissful dream, by Miss Montressor's remembering some engagement to be kept, or some letter to be

written, that obliges her to withdraw; and what looks strange, is, that these reminiscences of hers always arrive at a mal-à-propos moment, either in the most interesting part of the book we are reading, or in the subject on which we are conversing.

66

Pray, do not let me interrupt you, good

folk," she invariably says,

"I shall be back in a few minutes;" and off she hurries.

I resume the book, and, whenever a pause occurs, am charmed with the justice and tact of Lady Annandale's reflections. So much feeling, united to such extreme delicacy of perception, I never before encountered.

Often do I continue to read, until her carriage, or saddle-horses are announced; and we both find that it is five o'clock, when we had only imagined it three.

"How time flies!" does she frequently say, on such occasions; "but where can Caroline

Montressor be? she said she would be back in

a few minutes."

"Miss Montressor has been in the library, my lady, for the last half-hour, with his lordship," replies the servant.

Does not this look strange? yet it does not seem to inspire Lady Annandale with any suspicions. Is it possible that this artful girl can have any design in thus leaving her friend and me, two hours tête-à-tête in the boudoir, and being herself half-an-hour in the library with Annandale? But no; she can have no motive. And yet it does look strange: I must keep my eye on her; for the account Delaward gave me of her morals justifies suspicion.

Annandale seems totally unconscious of my admiration (adoration would better express the feeling) for his lovely wife. He is continually asking me to dine with them, en famille, and to make one of all their parties - invitations I

have not the courage to resist. Yet there are moments when I fancy I have detected significant glances, or malicious smiles on the countenances of some of the corrupt men, and as corrupt women, of our circle, when they see me by Lady Annandale's side; and I almost determine to sacrifice the intoxicating pleasure of her society, rather than subject her purity, which I know to be as spotless as snow ere it lights on earth, to the risk of one unworthy suspicion. I am more jealous of her reputation than ever husband was of that of his wife; and would die rather than expose it to censure.

She rarely speaks of Annandale; and her manner towards him is cold and distant. Of the Delawards she loves to converse.

Lady Delaward is indeed a happy woman," said she, a few days ago; "for, in her husband she has found the most delightful friend, the most instructive companion, and

the most wise monitor (should she ever need it)

with whom woman was ever blessed."

She sighed deeply and involuntarily.

"How vain, then, Lord Nottingham ought to be!" said Miss Montressor; "for you compared him, the other day, to Lord Delaward; and, if my memory does not deceive me, gave the preference to sa signeurie," bowing to me.

The cheeks of Lady Annandale became

suffused with a bright red; and so visible was her emotion, that, great as was the delight which the knowledge of her flattering opinion of me conferred-a delight that sent the blood circling more briskly through my veins I was angry with Miss Montressor for having betrayed her confidence.

"I was speaking of Lord Delaward as a husband," said Lady Annandale, with some reserve, and still blushing; "and, consequently,