er, and at the same time fitted better to receive one's ill-humour. An humble companion, well born, well educated, and perfectly dependent, is a most useful appurtenance in the best families.

Mrs. Blandish. Well, do not raise her to the rank of a friend, lest I should be jealous.

Miss Als. You may be perfectly secure-I shall take particular care that friendship shall be out of the question on both sides. I had once thought of a restoration of pages to sit in scarlet and silver (as one reads in former times) upon the forepart of the coach, and to hold up one's train-but I have a new male attendant in a valet de chambre, who has possession of my bust-My two women will have the charge from the point of the shoulder to the toeSo my person being provided for-the Countess of Gayville shall have an attendant to wait upon her mind.

Mrs. Blandish, I vow a most elegant and uncommon thought.

Miss Als. One that can pen a note in the familiar, the punctilious, or the witty-It's quite troublesome to be always writing wit for one's self-But above all, she is to have a talent for music.

Mrs. Blandish. Ay, your very soul is framed for harmony.

Miss Als. I have not quite determined what to call her-Governante of the private chamber, keeper of the boudoir, with a silver key at her breast

Enter CHIGNON.

Chignon. Madame, a young lady beg to know if you be visible.

Miss Als. A young lady-It is not Lady Emily Gayville ?

Chignon. Non, madam, but if you were absente, and I had the adjustment of her head, she would be the most charmante personne I did ever see.

Miss Als. Introduce her. [Exit CHIGNON.] Who can this be?

Mrs. Blandish. Some woman of taste, to inquire your correspondent at Paris-or

Enter MISS ALTON.

MISS ALSCRIP courtesying respectfully; MISS ALTON retiring disconcerted.

Miss Als. Of taste indeed, by her appearance !— Who's in the antichamber? Why did they not open the folding doors ?-Chignon, approach a fauteuil for the lady.

Miss Alton. Madam, I come !-
Miss Als. Madam, pray be seated-
Miss Alton. Excuse me, madam,-
Miss Als. Madam, I must beg-

Miss Alton. Madam, this letter will inform you how little pretension I have to the honours you are offering.

Miss Als. [Reads.] Miss Alton, the bearer of this, is the person I recommended as worthy the honour of attending you as a companion. [Eyes her scornfully.] She is born a gentlewoman; I dare say her talents and good qualities will speak more in her favour, than any words I could use-. -I am, Madam, your most obedientum-um-." Blandish, was there ever such a mistake?

Mrs. Blandish. Oh! you dear, giddy, absent creature, what could you be thinking of?

Miss Als. Absent indeed. Chignon, give me the fauteuil; [Throws herself into it.] Young woman, where were you educated?

Miss Alton. Chiefly, madam, with my parents.

Miss Als. But finished, I take it for granted, at a country boarding school; for we have, young ladies, you know Blandish, boarded and educated, upon blue boards, in gold letters, in every village; with a stroll

ing player for a dancing master, and a deserter from Dunkirk, to teach the French grammar.

Mrs. Blandish. How that genius of yours does paint! nothing escapes you-I dare say you have anticipated this young lady's story.

Miss Alton. It is very true, madam, my life can afford nothing to interest the curiosity of you two ladies; it has been too insignificant to merit your concern, and attended with no circumstances to excite your pleasantry.

Miss Als. [Yawning.] I hope, child, it will be attended with such for the future as will add to your own-I cannot bear a mope about me.-I am told you have a talent for music-can you touch that harp-It stands here as a piece of furniture, but I have a notion it is kept in tune, by the man who comes to wind up my clocks.

Miss Alton. Madam, I dare not disobey you. But I have been used to perform before a most partial audience; I am afraid strangers will think my talent too humble to be worthy attention.

SONG.

For tenderness framed in life's earliest day,
A parent's soft sorrows to mine led the way;
The lesson of pity was caught from her eye,
And ere words were my own, I spoke in a sigh.

The nightingale plunder'd, the mate-widow'd dove,
The warbled complaint of the suffering grove,
To youth as it ripened gave sentiment new,
The object still changing, the sympathy true.

t

Soft embers of passion yet rest in the glow--
A warmth of more pain may this breast never know!
Or if too indulgent the blessing I claim,
Let reason awaken, and govern the flame.

Miss Als. I declare not amiss, Blandish only a little too plaintive-but I dare say she can play a country dance, when the enlivening is required-So, Miss Alton, you are welcome to my protection; and indeed I wish you to stay from this hour. My toilet being nearly finished, I shall have a horrid vacation till dinner.

Miss Alton. Madam, you do me great honour, and I very readily obey you.

Mrs. Blandish. I wish you joy, Miss Alton, of the most enviable situation a young person of elegant talents could be raised to. You and I will vie with each other, to prevent our dear countess ever knowing a melancholy hour. She has but one fault to correct -the giving way to the soft effusions of a too tender heart.

Enter SERVANT."

Serv. Madam, a letter

Miss Als. It's big enough for a state packetOh! mercy, a petition-for Heaven's sake, Miss Alton, look it over. [MISS ALTON reads.] I should as soon read one of Lady Newchapel's methodist sermons-What does it contain ?

Miss Alton. Madam, an uncommon series of calamities, which prudence could neither see, nor prevent the reverse of a whole family from affluence and content to misery and imprisonment; and it adds, that the parties have the honour, remotely, to be allied to you.

Miss Als. Remote relations! ay, they always think one's made of money.

Enter another SERVANT.

2 Serv. A messenger, madam, from the animal repository, with the only puppy of the Peruvians, and the refusal at twenty guineas.

Miss Als. Twenty guineas! Were he to ask fifty, I must have him.

Mrs. Blandish. [Offering to run out.] I vow I'll give

him the first kiss.

Miss Als. [Stopping her.] I'll swear you shan't. Miss Alton. Madam, I was just finishing the petition.

Miss Als. It's throwing money away-But give him a crown.

[Exit with MRS. BLANDISH striving which shall

be first.

Miss Alton. "The soft effusions of a too tender heart." The proof is excellent. That the covetous should be deaf to the miserable, I can conceive; but I should not have believed, if I had not seen, that a taste for profusion did not find its first indulgence in benevolence. [Exit.

ACT THE THIRD.

SCENE I

MISS ALSCRIP's Dressing-room.

MISS ALTON, discovered.

Miss Alton. Thanks to Mrs. Blandish's inexhaustible talent for encomium, I shall be relieved from one part of a companion that my nature revolts at. But who comes here? It's well if I shall not be exposed to impertinences I was not aware of.

E