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As she squeezed my hand at parting, Caroline whispered "she supposed she should not again see Matilda Selby;" and I, silly girl that I was! by my blushes, and my silence, admitted that I understood her, and that I cherished the same expectation.

Last night, when we greeted each other on the stairs, did she not speak of the "unexpected pleasure" of meeting me with my sister; and could I not plainly perceive the malicious innuendo contained in the commonplace words?

In solitude, one is more aware of the void in one's heart; but, in society, one sees the triumphant glance,-one hears the commiserating sigh,-one perceives the mortifying smile.

Oh! how could I so pity that youthful widow yesterday! She is not exposed to the sneers of the unfeeling; her sorrows are not humiliating. To all around her she is the object of interest, kindness, consideration, and respect friends and strangers feel for her: no eye can fall on her but with a kindly ex

pression in every bosom she must find sympathy. She may still enshrine the image of her beloved in her heart of hearts; and, when her race is run, may she not hope for a reunion of their spirits? while I! *




London, September 13th. Here we are, once more, in our native land! My heart yearned towards it from the moment I descried its white cliffs;-the land of my birth,the land of my youth,-the land where my fathers are buried,-where I hope I may be buried with them,-and, what to me is the dearest tie of all, the land which contains the remains of my poor Henry.

It must, indeed, be a bitter necessity, which could induce me to emigrate. One might be contented to live in a strange land, but not to die there perhaps it is a fanciful feeling; but, to those who have lost any dear friend, the tie to the father-land seems to me one which

can be replaced by no other. I should have been sorry if death had overtaken me during our travels: I may now look forward to Henry's mortal remains, and my own, being consigned to the same vault; and, though the Church never united us in life, in death the same holy ground will contain my father's nephew, and my father's daughter.




Rockstone Abbey, September 16th.-My heart sickened at finding myself again in England, and in reflecting upon the change that has taken place in myself-in my feelings,―my hopes, my wishes. This time last year I left Rockstone, full of joy and sanguine expectation: Lord George had appeared devoted to me the last fortnight we were at Elversham; and I imagined he but awaited my arrival in London to declare himself. How I then pitied Margaret, who was still weeping our poor cousin Henry's death,-and, now (how I envy her!) she is calm and cheerful; and she even expresses satisfaction at returning home, although it is here that Henry is buried! She takes an interest in all that

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