Lord Deanport be true, his lordship and his lady were instances of the truth of this remark; for he has been de scribed to me as a man of very elegant manners. be regretted, indeed, that the politeness and elegance of It is to manner, which generally belongs to people of birth, is not always accompanied with benevolence. It gave me pain, in a company where I was lately, to hear it asserted, that the late Lord Deanport was, with all his politeness, devoid of that virtue; and that every appearance of it in his conduct proceeded from ostentation and vanity.

To return to your letter,-you have been informed, that at one time I behaved to Lord Deanport in a manner that made people imagine that his addresses were agreeable to me; and you wish to know my reasons for the alteration that afterwards took place in my conduct.-I own I intended to have concealed this from you; but the inclination you express to be acquainted with the whole is more than sufficient to make me overcome the reluctance I had to trouble you with such a communication.

N. B. The rest of this letter consists of an account of Miss Clifford's first acquaintance with Lord Deanport, the rude manner in which Lady Deanport had behaved to her, the manner in which she herself had retaliated, the alteration that took place in her ladyship's conduct; and concludes with an account of Lord Deanport's behaviour at Mr. Darnley's but as this narrative is, in substance, the same with what is contained in the letters addressed to Mrs. Sommers, it is here omitted.

I

LETTER LXXVI.

LADY DIANA FRANKLIN to MISS HORATIA CLIFFORD.

MY DEAR HORATIA,

HAVE considered, very attentively, the account you give of your adventure with the noble lord, and every other

VOL. VII.

part of your last letter: the whole is written with that energy and sprightliness which belong to your character. The proofs it contains of that generous and warm friendship, which has long been a source of happiness to me, affected me greatly; yet I must acknowledge that some pain was mingled with the pleasure I felt in the perusal, from the idea that your sensibility to whatever concerns me has led you a little out of the direct line of propriety, which you usually pursue. I will not allow your warm affection for myself, my dearest girl, however pleasing to my heart, to prevent me from communicating to you my real sentiments, when I find the least thing censurable in any part of your conduct.

Though you do not say it, yet I am quite certain that the manner in which you have heard that Lady Deanport expressed herself, regarding me, provoked you more than her insolence to yourself; yet your own observation might have convinced you that such intemperate expressions are more hurtful to the people who use them than to those they mean to injure, and are best answered by silent contempt.

I will not take upon me to decide whether your remark on the manners of people born to high rank, compared to those of persons raised to it, be well founded or not; but I can assure you that the construction you heard put on the late earl of Deanport's conduct is equally uncharitable and unjust. I had the honour of his acquaintance; and I always thought him a man of real politeness and benevolence. Nothing can display a more malicious turn of mind than a disposition to put bad constructions on actions which naturally would bear good ones. When a person takes trouble, and puts himself to expense, not in giving sumptuous entertainments to the great and powerful, but in relieving the wants, and preparing some comforts to the poorest and most wretched class of our fellow-creatures, how ungenerous is it to assert, or insinuate, that this proceeds from any unbecoming motive!—yet I have heard the annual entertainment provided at Portman Square, for the poor chimney-sweepers of the capital, imputed to

vanity and ostentation. The imputation gave me a very unfavourable impression of the person who made it, without, in the smallest degree, diminishing my esteem for the institutor, whose enlightened mind may exult in the reflection that her benevolent festival diffuses more enjoyment than all the luxurious entertainments that are wasted, on sated wealth, from the beginning of the year to the

end,

In these sentiments, my dear Horatia, I am persuaded you join with me: but I fear we differ a little in our notions of the manner in which you resented Lady Deanport's rudeness. Instead of despising a behaviour which dishonoured her, not you, perceiving that she was alarmed at her son's attentions to you, although you had received them before with coldness, you now seemed to relish them, and assumed an air of complaisance to him, merely to vex and tease her, without regarding the construction he would put on an alteration in your behaviour, so flattering to him. I greatly suspect, that if any improper sentiment, respecting you, ever suggested itself to the mind of Lord Deanport, it was at this time; and that he never would have dared to have behaved to you as he did, when he found you alone at your uncle's, if the sudden alteration in your manner had not encouraged

him.

How can his conduct be otherwise accounted for?How came he to change his behaviour to you, immediately after you changed yours to him?-He then ventured on freedoms he had never risked before. Why did he not make a proposal of marriage when he found you alone? he never could expect a more favourable opportunity. Instead of this, he began to take unbecoming liberties. It is clear, my dear Horatia, that the man put a libertine construction on the alteration of your behaviour to him. This alteration consisted not only in its being expressive of more kindness than formerly, but also of more than you really felt. His subsequent conduct is one proof, among ten thousand, of the construction which

men put on a coquettish behaviour in women. This is not unworthy of your serious attention, my lovely young friend. Pray observe :-The same man, who had always treated you with the most respectful politeness, takes freedoms which shock you, the moment that something of coquetry intermingles with your behaviour to him; and, as soon as you reassume your natural character, and the dignity of a virtuous woman, he is overawed, disconcerted, and, in the humblest tone, begs forgiveness.

Though I am not at all uneasy at being called an old maid, I should be sorry to be thought a prude; particularly if great austerity be implied in the word: yet I would much rather be a prude than a coquette.

It will be said, that a coquette may be a virtuous woman;-she only amuses herself by attracting the attention of men, and deceiving them with false hopes. I am not now speaking of that playful and thoughtless coquetry which has no object beyond drawing a little admiration; of that spec es of coquetry nothing need be said, but that it is sometimes a dangerous game, and that the object it aims at may be better attained by other means. But of the other kind of coquetry, I own, my opinion is very different.

Deceiving men with false hopes !-Hopes of what nature? What do you think of this, my dear, as an occupation for a virtuous woman? For my own part, so little of a prude am I, that I do not think that a woman of the town is a vast deal more reprehensible.

I am sensible, my dear Horatia, that you despise real coquetry. The alteration of your behaviour to the young lord flowed from a different source: but, though different, it was not perfectly pure. You wished to punish the insolence of Lady Deanport, and the childish impertinence of the two other women, by making them believe that you had some partiality for the noble lord, and that you intended to accomplish what they dreaded. This, in my opinion, was not only improper, but superfluous it would have been better to have overlooked the malevolence of all the three. Envy and malevolence con

tain their own punishment; for, while those women seemed so merry, at your expense, they were, in reality, feeling more pain than they gave. Besides, my dear, you ought to have recollected that you were not only deceiving them, but also Lord Deanport, who, at that period, had given you no cause of offence.

However displeased Lady Deanport may have been with her son's attentions to you, it appears that she is of a different way of thinking now. This, I confess, I do not perfectly understand: but, since you have ranked his lordship among the polite gentlemen who are bowing to the pretty fellow in the glass, while they pretend to be making obeisance to the company, I am convinced she has no reason to dread that he ever will be the husband of my Horatia Clifford. Adieu! Yours, affectionately,

DIANA FRANKLIN.

LETTER LXXVII.

MISS HORATIA CLIFFORD to LADY DIANA FRANKLIN.

MY DEAR LADY DIANA,

Southbury-Park, Surry.

THE day after sending my last letter to you, I accompanied Mr. Darnley and my aunt to this place. They had expressed a wish to pass a few days with their friends, Mr. and Mrs. Tranquil. Sometime this month I pressed them to put their intention into immediate execution, while the marchioness remained at Richmond, that I might not be absent when she should return to town. I wished also to have no chance of meeting Lord Deanport for some time at least.

We have passed some days, very agreeably, with this family. What can be more agreeable than living with benevolent people, of elegant manners, cultivated minds, and accommodating tempers; fond of each other, and esteemed by their neighbours?

We intended to have remained some time longer; but I have just received a letter from my brother. He has been already three days in London; and my uncle, per