and her buoyant spirits had never been depressed by those unfeeling prohibitions and restraints, which, "like a worm i' th' bud," feed on the opening blossom, and turn the happiest season of our lives into days of protracted penance. To her elasticity of spirits and brilliancy of imagination, which, but for an uncommon superiority of talent, might have dege. nerated into frivolity of mind, this calm and almost masculine education formed an admirable counterpoise. But yet such was her natural pliability of character, that Mrs. Galton scarcely deemed even this antidote sufficient; and looked forward with trembling anxiety to the period of her being introduced to society, knowing how probable it was, that her fancy, and even her heart, might be seriously affected, long before her reason or understanding were called into action.

Selina was the only one of Sir Henry Seymour's children who had survived their mother; in her were centred all his hopes, and nearly all his affections; her vivacity amused, and her talents gratified him. But he was not capable of justly appreciating or fully comprehending her character; he had so long considered her as a mere child, it never entered into his calculation, that she was now approaching that eventful period of life, when more was required from the discretion and affection of a parent, than a mere tolerance of harmless vivacity. It did certainly sometimes occur to him, that she might marry, but he generally banished the idea from his mind as quickly as it arose; for it was always accompanied by a painful feeling, arising in truth from a dread of losing her delightful society; but he never analyzed this feeling, and always repeating to himself that she was still but a child, he concluded by his usual reflection, that there "was no use in thinking about it: for, if it was to happen, he could not help it."

Thus, with infatuated security, he anticipated no danger in allowing his daughter to associate with

Augustus Mordaunt. They had been brought up as children together, and their manner to each other was so unrestrained, so free from all those artificial precautions, that by a premature defence first apprize innocence of its danger, that even wiser heads than poor Sir Henry's might have believed, as Selina really did, that only the affection of brother and sister existed between them: it is true, Mrs. Galton and Mr. Temple sometimes talked over together the possibility of their future union; and so desirable did it seem to both, and so certain to obtain Sir Henry's consent, that they left them to their fate, scarcely wishing that any circumstance should arise to prevent a mutual attachment taking place.

Augustus was nephew to the earl of Osselstone, and heir to his title. His father, dying when he was four years old, had left him to the guardianship of Sir Henry; and the boy had been removed to Deane Hall the year before Selina was born, where he had constantly resided since, except during the periods he had passed at Eton and Oxford. Sir Henry felt for him an affection almost paternal; nor was it unreturned, or unworthily bestowed. The disposition of Augustus was naturally benevolent and ardent in the extreme. Even in the most trifling pursuit either of knowledge or amusement, the fervency of his character was manifested; and where the susceptibility of his heart was once called forth, though expression might be repressed, his feelings were not easily to be subdued.

He

Mr. Temple, profiting by the example the fate of Mordaunt's parents had presented, early laboured to bring his passions under the control of reason. succeeded in regulating them, though they were not to be extinguished; and though Augustus early acquired a habit of self-possession, yet the natural vivacity of his character was expressed in every glance of his intelligent countenance, which served to portray each

own.

fleeting sentiment as it arose, whilst his dark expressive eye seemed to penetrate into the inmost thoughts of others, and to search for a mind congenial to his His figure was not less remarkable for elegance than strength; and he particularly excelled in all those manly exercises and accomplishments in which grace or activity are required. He had derived, partly from nature, partly from education, such high and almost chivalrous ideas of principle, that, even as a boy, no temptation could have induced him either to deserve or submit to the slightest imputation on his honour; and as he approached to manhood, this jealousy of character had given him a reputation of pride, which his dignified manner and appearance in some degree corroborated.-Though to his inferiors his address was always affable, yet to strangers of his own rank in life he was generally reserved; he was therefore not always understood; and those who were incapable of fully comprehending his peculiar merits, frequently attributed that apparent haughtiness of demeanour, which repelled officious familiarity, less to the superi ority of his individual character, than to the adventitious circumstance of his high birth and expectations.

He had early shown a strong predilection for the army, but he could never prevail on Sir Henry to consent to his entering that profession; and as a coolness existed between his uncle and his guardian, none other had yet been decided on for him. Nor, if it was to depend on Sir Henry's advice or exertions, was the selection likely soon to be made; for such was the habitual indolence of the baronet's character, that, unless the natural benevolence of his disposition was peculiarly called forth by any accidental circumstance, he was content with feelings of unbounded good will to all mankind, without making a single effort to promote the welfare of any individual. Yet, nevertheless, he was an affectionate father, an indulgent landlord, a hospitable neighbour, a kind friend, and as such universally beloved and respected. In his esta

blishment at Deane Hall, old English hospitality was maintained to the fullest extent; and the regularity of this establishment was united to such an uniformity of pursuit, that it almost amounted to a monotony of life. The care of directing his household and doing the honours of his table he left entirely to Mrs. Galton, the sister of the late Lady Seymour. She was, however, only called "mistress" by courtesy, for though "still in the sober charms of womanhood mature," just "verging on decay," she was yet unmarried. In her youth this lady had been as beautiful as she was amiable, and being possessed of a large fortune, had many suitors: on one of these, a Mr. Montague, she had bestowed her affections, and was on the point of marrying him, when she discovered that he was an inveterate gamester, ruined in fortune, morals, and character, and of course unworthy of her regard; and though her good sense enabled her in time to recover from the misery this discovery occasioned her, yet she was never afterward prevailed on to make another choice. Shortly after her refusal of him, Mr. Montague married a Miss Mortimer, who was as depraved as himself, and lost his life in a duel with one of his dissipated companions. Mrs. Galton had resided at Deane Hall from the period of her sister's death; and Selina soon filled the place of daughter in her affectionate heart. As that heart had been so deeply wounded, she had turned assiduously to the cultivation of her understanding; and in endeavouring to engraft her own perfections on Selina's ductile mind, she preserved the peace of her own, by withdrawing it from those corroding remembrances, that had threatened it with irreparable injury.

The day at last arrived, which was fixed for the annual visit of Mrs. Sullivan and her party at Deane Hall; for it may easily be supposed, that where such dissimilarity of character and pursuit existed, little intercourse would be maintained. At least an hour after the appointed time, the loud and peremptory

knock of their London footman proclaimed their ar rival; but their welcome was much less cordial, than it would otherwise have been, from all the assembled party at Deane, as they came unaccompanied by Miss Wildenheim.

Mrs. Sullivan, on entering the room, displayed a low, fat, vulgar figure, arrayed in all the shades admissible in fashionable mourning. Her gown was a soi-disant gray, approximating, as nearly as possible, to a sky blue, relieved with black and scarlet, and profusely ornamented with artificial flowers. On her head waved a plume of white ostrich feathers, which, in their modest colour and airy form, served perfectly to contrast her piony cheeks and lumpish person.

Her petticoats, wired at the bottom, kept unbroken the ample circle, of which her breadth from hip to hip formed the diameter. Her shuffling gait put all her finery in motion from head to foot; and Selina could not help thinking, that, "if she might just give her one little twirl," she would make to perfection what in her girlish plays was called a cheese. Mrs. Sullivan was followed by her two elder daughters-Miss Webberly, loaded with all the superfluous decorations of modern costume, which could be called in aid to conceal her natural deformity, and her sister, dressed in the opposite extreme of capricious fashion, equally solicitous to exhibit her all unobscured charms. Soon after, the entrance of the remaining guests completed the circle, and the company insensibly dividing into small separate parties, Mrs. Galton found herself between her two intimate friends, Mr. and Mrs. Temple, and expressed to them her sincere regret at not seeing Miss Wildenheim, for whom Mrs. Sullivan had made an awkward apology.

"What a beautiful style of countenance here is," said Augustus Mordaunt, who was standing by: quite the Grecian head." "I look more to the inside of the head," replied Mr. Temple, "and find it as admirable as you do the outside," "You are always so