to love this man." Ellen blushed, looked down, and was silent; and Charles Mandeville was to be absent from London a week while she was there, preferring races to her company. Alas! what then were the protestations of man's love worth; to think that he loved her still, spite of appearances, was now impossible; and she resolved to try to repay indifference with indifference. A week's absence was a good preparation for the execution of this wise resolve; but Mrs. Ainslie thought there was still a better way of weakening Charles's power over her.

"Love," says the eloquent author of Ada Reis, " though strong in itself, receives great accession of strength from perceiving the admiration paid to others by its object;" and Mrs. Ainslie hoped, that if she could contrived to let her see Mandeville eclipsed in those very things which gave him such importance in her eyes; if she could hear his singing excelled, his pretensions to high fashion and fashionable acquaintance proved less real than they now appeared to her, and could be made to seem at all degraded or ridiculous in her sight, her end would be accomplished. But to effect this was difficult; as though Ellen already thought Charles grown conceited and affected, especially concerning his singing, he still appeared to her the height of elegance, and "the desired of all beholders."

The ensuing week passed more rapidly than Ellen expected or wished, as she found herself obliged to quit London at the end of the next week, since Mrs. Ainslie was forced to hasten into the North, on account of the increased illness of her sister; at the end of the week Mandeville called, and told Ellen that he had procured his friend Lady D.'s Opera Box for Mrs. Ainlie and herself, for the next Tuesday; this was delightful news to Ellen, who had not yet been at the Opera. "We are really much obliged by this attention," said Mrs, Ainslie, "I conclude you will dine with us on Tuesday, and use one of the tickets yourself?"" Impossible! I dine with some friends of mine at the

Coffee-house that day; a dinEur. Mag. July, 1823.

ner I am to give in consequence of my election into the Alfred, which will, I expect, take place the day before, as though success is diffi cult I am told that I am sure of getting in; but I shall certainly come to the Opera during the course of the evening. I have promised Lady B. to look in on her in her box, and I shall also make a point of coming to your's."-" You are only too good," replied Mrs. Ainslie, with a sarcastic smile; "but, seriously, I am glad to have so well situated a box as Lady D.'s is for Ellen to see the Opera, and Tuesday is the only night that she will be able to go thither."-" go thither."-"The only night?"

Yes; she will leave me, and I London, on the following Friday." "I am quite concerned to hear it; my dear Ellen, may I speak a few words to you alone?"

Ellen futtered, curious, anxious, paused for a minute, and then led the way into the next room." Ellen," said Mandeville, "I know you like to oblige me, and I have a favour to ask of you; I am invited to Lady Charlotte D.'s musical party on Monday, and I want to sing that song which I have altered so as to make it suit my voice, and which you accompany so well; but I dare not trust any body but you to accompany me, I therefore told Lady Charlotte that I had a cousin in London whom I wished to bring with me to her party, if she would allow me, and she said yes, but she hoped you would excuse her calling on you; I said I was sure you would not stand on ceremony, therefore there is her card, and here an invitation?"-Ellen at first was speechless at the utter selfishness of this project, and the indelicate coolness with which Mandeville seemed to make a convenience of her at the expense of herself, respect and proper pride, and desired to take her with him to a London assembly as his accompanier. When she recovered herself she coldly and proudly said, that though always ready to oblige him, she must consult Mrs. Ainlie before she could reply to such a proposal; then, before Charles could prevent an appeal to which he instantly foresaw the certain answer, she threw open the folding door, and, with

D

faultering voice, disclosed to Mrs. Ainslie what Mandeville required of her.

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Amazing!" exclaimed Mrs. Ainslie, after a pause, during which she fixed her fine eyes on Charles with an expression of indignant contempt: "I have seen selfishness before, but never, I think, to so unblushing an amount as now.""Selfishness, Madam! surely there is nothing selfish in wishing to procure my cousin Ellen a pleasant evening's entertainment; and you, I know, do not visit Lady Charlotte D.". "Nor shall Miss Mortimer, Sir, if I can help it. No guest of mine shall go to the house of a Lady who does not choose to trouble herself to pay the customary due of respect by calling on her, or at least by leaving a card at the house where she is; and I wonder, Mr. Mandeville, that you could bear so.to compromise the dignity of your cousin. Then to want to drag the dear girl about with you merely for the purpose of your own vanity, but never to desire it at the prompting of affection!"-" How do you know, Madam, that what I now desire is not from the prompting of affection?"-" Because it is inconsistent with your former conduct since Miss Mortimer's arrival in this town; however, let Ellen judge for herself. If she wishes to go to Lady Charlotte's I can send her thither with a friend of mine; what say you, Ellen ?""That I see the affair in the same light as yourself, and have not the slightest wish to go to Lady Charlotte D.'s. I must also add that I am hurt beyond measure to see that my cousin Charles has never wished for my company at any party before, and that now he wishes for me merely to make me the means of gratifying his vanity."-" You are too severe, and unjust, and ungrateful, Miss Mortimer." -" Indeed! would that I were so," replied Ellen, bursting into tears; "would you could make me think myself so; for then I should be spared the bitterest of all pangs to me-the pain of blaming you."

Mrs. Ainslie did not like the tenderness of this last part of Ellen's reply; but, on the whole, she was satisfied with the just view which

she took of Mandeville's motives, and had little doubt of Ellen's being cured in time; as selfishness, in the beloved object, is of all qualities the most likely to break the tie that holds the heart in bondage. Ellen's tears, if they did not otherwise affect Charles, induced him to express his regret for having wounded her feelings, especially when it had been his sole intention to gratify them; but he hoped, he said, that she would excuse the unceremonious invitation to the party, for the sake of the Opera Box. Artfully put Mr. Mandeville.-Yes, yes, we will try to remember nothing but the obligation you have conferred on us. Will you dine with us on Sunday, we dine out to-day ?"-"I go out of town on Sunday to dinner; but on Monday I should be happy to have the honour to wait on you.""So be it ;" and Mandeville bowed and departed.

He was no sooner gone than Ellen threw herself on Mrs. Ainslie's neck and gave way to an agony of grief, which drew sympathizing tears from her affectionate friend. Oh! trying, but blessed visit to London, Ellen," said Mrs. Ainslie; "It has brought you to know the false from the true; but come, now your full heart has relieved itself, tell me, if you can, for what qualities you loved Charles Mandeville ?"-"He is my cousin, you know."-" Yes, that is a reason why you should love him, certainly; but not why you should be in love with him.""And then "-" Well, and then ?” "I thought he loved me." "That is, was in love with you.' "Yes."- Well, now for the reasons?" "And then, you know, he is very handsome." "Yes, but not so handsome as Sir Henry Claremont, in my eyes ?"-" And then he sang and danced well, and seemed very good natured."

"And I suppose you read together, and conversed together?" "We read novels together, but our conversation was chiefly about, about"-"What?"—" Love, and each other.". 66 Aye, I suppose so; an admirable compendium of the substance, and sense of a boy's and girl's attachment; but I conclude you never thought Charles a man of

66

reading and reflection, or of active virtues like Sir Henry Claremont?" -"I never thought about it," said Ellen, blushing. "Then now my dear it is time that you should think about it, and seriously too; compare Mandeville with his rival, and let me soon hear that the poor Baronet is sent by you to undergo his six months' probation in London.”—Ellen smiled, and looked as if the idea was not so impossible to be realized as she thought it when Mrs. Ainslie last mentioned the subject; and by the time the carriage came round she had dried up her tears, and anticipated the drive, though Charles was not to be with them, with considerable pleasure. They called to take up a friend of Mrs. Ainslie in their way to the Park, and as the Lady wished to see pictures they went to the painter's gallery, nothing loth, and saw Sir Henry's picture again. "What a

countenance! what a fine man!" said their companion; and Ellen saw, not without pleasure, that a group of ladies and gentlemen were admiring this picture, and that two or three declared they had the happiness and the honour of knowing the admired original. "Oh! what a happy woman you might be if you chose," said Mrs. Ainslie, in a whisper; " and I think you might spare the poor man the six months' probation as he is seven and twenty, and men know their own minds though boys do not."

As Charles had engaged to dine at Mrs. Ainslie's on the Monday, that Lady had enabled herself to put in execution part of her scheme for curing Ellen of her love. Mrs. Ainslie was acquainted with a young man of good fainily and independent fortune, whose first passion and first pursuit in life unfortunately was musick; as his health was delicate he was ordered to Italy, and during a residence in that country of some years duration his very fine voice was improved to the utmost, as was his general skill in music; and he returned to England the best possible amateur performer. He had within the last year become intimately acquainted with a singing master and his sister, born of Italian parents in England; and with these young persons, who sang ad

mirably, he passed so much of his time that it was supposed the pleasing manners, and vocal powers, of Olivia Pedruglio would win so much on his affections that he would make her his wife. In the mean while not the slightest stain attached to the Lady's character from the intimacy; and when Mr. De Mornay was invited out to dinner, it was customary to invite M. Pedruglio and his sister also. But it was no easy matter to prevail on Mr. De Mornay to pay visits; he preferred receiving friends in an evening at his house, where musick of various kinds was the usual amusement ; but, as he greatly respected and admired Mrs. Ainslie, he promised to wait on her, and so did the Pedruglios, as soon as she told him that she had a very particular reason for wishing him, and his friends, to dine with her on the Monday. When Charles Mandeville arrived Mrs. Ainslie took him on one side, and said, "I am going to tell you what will delight you, Mr. De. Mornay, that first of gentleman singers, and his Italian friends the Pedruglios dine here to-day, and they will sing in the evening." Charles bowed, and said he was enchanted; but the discerning Mrs. Ainslie saw very clearly that he was excessively mortified, and had rather hear himself sing than the finest singers in the world. However, though mortified, he was not entirely dismayed, and was frequently lost in thought during dinner, saying to himself, "what can I sing, for Ellen is so cross or timid that I know she will refuse to accompany me; really I think I will sing without musick, for every one likes ballads." When two or three persons were assembled in the evening besides the dinner party, M. De Mornay, as soon as he was requested to do so, took his seat at the Piano-forte with the prompt compliance of a gentleman, and the skill of a professor. The first song he sang convinced Mandeville that he could not presume to compete with a singer like that, and Ellen's eyes swam in tears whilst the most touching voice she had ever heard sung a sweet cantabile air, the words of which (for she knew enough of Italian to understand them) applied in many respects to her own

disappointed hopes." Is it not exquisite?" said Charles, wishing to be contradicted. "Oh, I could listen to him all night!" cried the enthusiastic girl. "Indeed! an hour or two would content me," said the mortified Mandeville. The friends next sang a trio; in short, duet succeeded to duet, song to song from each of the three, when Mrs. Ainslie in a whisper desired De Mornay to ask Mr. Mandeville to sing. But he, alarmed at the evident superiority of the man who asked him, and mortified at the praises bestowed on him and his friends, refused with awkward bashfulnes, not modesty, not real timidity, but its counterpart, which is self-love, afraid of not shining, fearful of not excelling; and it was not till after repeated pressing that he could be prevailed on to sing. Then what should he sing was the difficulty. "Would Ellen accompany him?". "No; she knew she could not satisfy him.' "How very unkind?"-"Not at all; you would scold me, and I should not know a note that I played; and indeed you sing best without musick; besides, you will then come into no competition with these great performers." "So, then, you think me very inferior to them?""Who is not," said Ellen. "There, even Ellen is gone over to them. Heigho! I wish I had not come, or had gone away after dinner," thought Charles. However, he sang, but oh! the obvious difference between the singing of a frightened, husky, ill-assured amateur, and that which the company had lately heard. The friends kindly encouraged him,

but, spite of his vanity, Charles felt that he had completely failed, and Ellen was quite surprized to think that Charles could sing so ill; she, however, good naturedly assured the audience that her cousin was terrified out of his accustomed powers. Miss Pedruglio now asked Charles if he would take a part in an Italian quartetto. He said, he believed he could, as he had once sung it before; but, as he could not sing by note, he made such blunders that the performance could not go on, and the friends were earnestly conjured by a gentleman, whose love of musick conquered his politeness, not to lose time, but to sing themselves together in their usual way.

Unfortunately two ladies of consequence came in at this moment, who had heard Charles sing; and, knowing nothing of music, declared that they were vulgar enough to dote on a ballad, and they hoped Mr. Mandeville would indulge them. Again, therefore, Charles sang, and hoped to recover his lost fame; but in vain; his voice was hoarse; and even his newly-come admirers said they saw he was very hoarse, and had a bad cold, and it was very kind in him to sing at all. "Pray, Sir, can you sing ballads," said one of these ladies to De Mornay; " but, I suppose,English singing is beneath you."-" By no means, I will sing an English song directly."-" But not unaccompanied." "Oh! yes." Then, turning from the instrument, he sang a simple, touching melody in a plain unornamented stile, which went directly to the heart. words he sang were as follows:

The

Even Charles's passionate ad mirers were enchanted, and he had the mortification of hearing the same praises bestowed on De Mornay which they had before lavished on him; and even Ellen, who had given sympathizing tears to the first two verses, and hung entranced and ena moured on the recollection of De Mornay's tones, was so absorbed in admiration that she forgot to feel for Charles's discomforture. Not very long after, Mr. Ainslie saw Mandeville hastening out of the folding doors. "I hope you are not going yet?" said he, "Oh! yes, I am; I was charmed into staying too long," he replied. "I have an engagement in St. James's-square, I ought to have been there an hour ago.""What is that ?" said Mrs. Ainslie, on whose arm Ellen leaned. "Oh! only that Mandeville is gone to St. James's-square."—" Indeed! these grand squares are sure to take him from our humble circle in Serjeant's Inn."—" Is Charles gone ?" said Ellen, "and without my seeing him go, what could I be thinking of?""Of Mr. De Mornay, my dear; and I dare say Charles was think ing of him too when he went away." "Poor Charles," said Ellen, "I really felt for him." And so she did, she pitied him; but she soon found that this pity was of a degrading nature; it was a pity that lowered the object of it,-it was a sort of pity which a man could not with any safety excite in the woman who loved him. Certain it is that Ellen's musical taste had never been so highly gratified as it was that evening; and she went to bed wondering how she could ever have so much admired Charles Mandeville's singing. "Now, Ellen," said Mrs. Ainslie to her on the Tuesday morning, "you shall see that rare, but to me always pleasing object, a true gentleman, and a real man of fashion. Colonel Delborough is to dine with us, and accompany us to the opera; but though he is a single man, and has a foible for pretty girls, I insist on your not preferring him to Sir Henry; for here is another basket of fruit and flowers arrived, and some carp to boot. Tell me, Ellen, has Sir Henry ever seen you eat ravenously that he thus feeds you?"“Oh, no; I dare say he sends them,

because he knows that I shall have pleasure in presenting them to you." "Well, I am glad to see that you do his motives justice,-that is a good sign."

The Hon. Hugh Delborough was a man who at forty retained a considerable share of the beauty of early life, and all its pretensions; but his vanity, however great, never wounded the vanity of others; he was generally courteous; so much so that he was reckoned a complete pattern of a fine gentleman, and a high bred man. He was sometimes, indeed, cold and proud, and severe in his manner to those whom he thought coxcombs and pretenders to the rank and consequence which they had not; therefore, as his acquaintance was known to be never granted but to those who were worthy to associate with a man like him, the privilege of being known to Colonel Delborough was eagerly courted, and deemed a sort of passport into the best and most select circles in the fashionable world. Colonel Delborough, with many virtues, had some weaknesses, one of the chief of which was a tendency to fall in love with every young and pretty face that appeared in the world in which he moved, attended with a full persuasion, that he himself was irresistible. But his preferences never amounted to passions; never urged him to take the desperate step of marrying. Love was to him little better than the gentle intoxication produced by champaign; exhilarating, not disordering; and he changed his favourites nearly as often as he did his gloves, always taking care to do so before his assiduities were become so dangerous as to induce the ladies' father or brother to ask him what his intentions were. He was, therefore, a very harmless flirt; and while even the youngest girl of fashion was proud and desirous of his attentions, the eldest and most experienced woman of the world was never alarmed, lest these passionless and bounded attentions should injure the peace of her child or protegée, consequently he was welcome everywhere; and as he united rank to fashion, being an Earl's younger son, he was more courted, and more invited than any man in London