humour transforms them to its own like

ness."

"And where is the man," observed Thaddeus,." who would not be happy under the spells of so beautiful a Circe ?"

"It won't do, Mr. Constantine," cried she, taking her place opposite to him;

66

my anger is not to be appeased by calling me names; you don't mend the matter much, by likening me to a heathen and a witch."

Lady Tinemouth bore her part in the conversation of the evening in a strain more in unison with the count's mind. However, he found no inconsiderable degree of amusement from the unreflecting volubility, and giddy sallies of her friend; and, on the whole, spent the few hours he passed there, with some perceptions of his almost forgotten sense of pleasure.

He was in an elegant apartment, he was in the company of two lovely and accomplished women, and he was the object of their entire attention and gratitude.

He

He had been used to such scenes in his days of happiness, when he was the expectancy and rose of the fair state, the glass of fashion, and the mould of form, the observed of all observers;' and their re-appearance, awakened, with tender remembrances, an associating sensibility, which made him rise with regret when the clock struck one.

Lady Tinemouth bade him good night, with an earnest request that he would shortly repeat his visit. This invitation gratified him much; and they parted, mutually delighted with each other.

VOL. II.

CHAP.

CHAP. V.

PLEASED as the count was, with the acquaintance to which his gallantry had introduced him, he did not repeat his call for a long time.

A few mornings after his meeting with Lady Tinemouth, the hard frost broke up. The change in the atmosphere so dread. fully affected the general, by producing a relapse of his rheumatic fever, that his friend watched by his pillow night and day for ten days. At the end of this period, he recovered sufficiently to sit up and read; or to amuse himself, by registering the melancholy events of the last campaigns, in a large book, with plans of the different battles. The sight of this volume would have distressed Thaddeus, had he not seen that it afforded comfort

to

to the poor veteran, whom it transported back into the midst of scenes on which he delighted to dwell; yet, he would often lay down his pen, shut the book, and weep like an infant.

The count left him one morning at this employment, and strolled out with the intention of calling on Lady Tinemouth. As he walked along by Portlandhouse, he perceived Pembroke Somerset with a gentleman leaning on his arm, coming out of Bond-street.

All the blood in the count's body seemed rushing to his heart. He trembled. The ingenuous smile on his friend's countenance, and his features so sweetly marked with frankness, made his resolution falter.

"But proofs," cried he to himself, "are absolute!" and turning his face to a stand of books which was near him, he stood there until Somerset had passed. He went by him speaking these words:

"I trust, father, that ingratitude is not his vice."

"But it is yours, Somerset !" murmured Thaddeus, as for a moment he gazed after them, and then proceeded on his walk.

When his name was announced at Lady Tinemouth's, he found her ladyship and another lady, but not Miss Egerton. Lady Tinemouth expressed her pleasure at this visit, and her surprise that it had been so long deferred.

"The pain of such an apparent neglect of your ladyship's goodness,” replied he," has been added to my anxiety for the declining health of a friend, whose increased illness is my apology."

"I wish," returned her ladyship, her eyes beaming approbation, "that all my friends could excuse their absence so well!"

"Perhaps they might if they chose ;" observed the other lady, " and with equal sincerity." Thaddeus