Thus, madam, was Dr. Bartlett in the place of a second conscience to me. And many a good thing did I do, many a bad one did I avoid, for having set up such a monitor over my conduct. And it was the more necessary that I should, as I am naturally passionate, proud, ambitious; and as I had the honour of being early distinguished (pardon, madam, the seeming vanity) by a sex, of which no man was ever a greater admirer; and, possibly the more distinguished, as for my safety sake, I was as studious to decline intimacy with the gay ones of it, however dignified by rank, or celebrated for beauty, as most young men are to cultivate their favour.

Nor is it so much to be wondered at that I had advantages which every one who travels has not. Residing for some time at the principal courts, and often visiting the same places, in the length of time I was abroad, I was considered, in a manner, as a native, at the same time that I was treated with the respect that is generally paid to travellers of figure, as well in France as Italy. I was very genteelly supported: I stood in high credit with my countrymen, to whom I had many ways of being serviceable. They made known to every body my father's affection for me; his magnificent spirit; the ancient families, on both sides, from which I was descended. I kept the best company; avoided intrigues; made not myself obnoxious to serious or pious people, though I scrupled not to avow, when called upon, my own principles. From all these advantages, I was respected beyond my degree.

I should not, madam, have been thus lavish in my own praise, but to account to you for the favour I stood in with several families of the first rank; and to suggest an excuse for more than one of them, which thought it no disgrace to wish me to be allied with them.

Lord L

mentioned to you, madam, and my sisters, a Florentine lady, by the name of OLIVIA. She is, indeed, a woman of high qualities, nobly born, generous, amiable in her features, genteel in her person, and mistress of a great fortune in possession, which is entirely at her own disposal; having not father, mother, brother, or other near relations. The first time I saw her was at the opera. An opportunity offered in her sight, where a lady, insulted by a lover made desperate by her just refusal of him, claimed and received my protection. What I did, on the occasion, was generally applauded: Olivia, in particular, spoke highly of it. Twice, afterwards, I saw her in company where I was a visitor: I had not the presumption to look up to her with hope; but my countryman, Mr. Jervois, gave me to understand, that I might be master of my own fortune with Lady Olivia. I pleaded difference of religion: he believed, he said, that matter might be made easy-But could I be pleased with the change, would she have made it, when passion, not conviction, was likely to be the motive?-There could be no objection to her person: nobody questioned her virtue; but she was violent and imperious in her temper. I had never left MIND out of my notions of love: I could not have been happy with her, had she been queen of the globe. I had the mortification of being obliged to declare myself to the lady's face: it was a mortification to me, as much for her sake as my own. I was obliged to leave Florence upon it, for some time; having been apprised, that the spirit of revenge had taken place of a gentler passion, and that I was in danger from it.

How often did I lament the want of that refuge in a father's arms, and in my native country, which subjected me to evils that were more than a match for my tender years,

and to all the inconveniencies that can attend a banished man! Indeed I often considered myself in this light; and, as the inconveniencies happened, was ready to repine; and the more ready, as I could not afflict myself with the thought of having forfeited my father's love: on the contrary, as the constant instances which I received of his paternal goodness, made me still more earnest to acknowledge it at his feet.

Ought I to have forborne, Lucy, shewing a sensibility at my eyes on this affecting instance of filial gratitude? If I ought, I wish I had had more command of myself: but consider, my dear, the affecting subject we were upon. I was going to apologize for the trickling tear, and to have said, as I truly might, Your filial goodness, sir, affects me: but, with the consciousness that must have accompanied the words, would not that, to so nice a discerner, have been to own, that I thought the tender emotion wanted an apology? These little tricks of ours, Lucy, may satisfy our own punctilio, and serve to keep us in countenance with ourselves; (and that, indeed, is doing something ;) but, to a penetrating eye, they tend only to shew, that we imagined a cover, a veil, wanting; and what is that veil, but a veil of gauze?

What makes me so much afraid of this man's discernment? Am I not an honest girl, Lucy?

He proceeded.

From this violent lady I had great trouble; and to this day-But this part of my story I leave to Dr. Bartlett to acquaint you with. I mention it as a matter that yet gives me concern, for her sake, and as what I find has given some amusement to my sister Charlotte's curiosity.

But I hasten to the affair which, of all others, has most embarrassed me; and which, engaging my compassion,

though my honour is free, gives torture to my very soul.

I found myself not well-I thought I should have fainted. The apprehensions of his taking it as I wished him not to take it, (for indeed, Lucy, I don't think it was that,) made me worse. Had I been by myself, this faintishness might have come over my heart. I am sure it was not that but it seized me at a very unlucky moment, you'll say.

With a countenance full of tender concern, he caught my hand, and rang. In ran his Emily. My dear Miss Jervois, said I, leaning upon her-Excuse me, sir—And I withdrew to the door: and, when there, finding my faintishness going off, I turned to him, who attended me thither: I am better, sir, already: I will return, instantly. I must beg of you to proceed with your interesting story.

I was well the moment I was out of the study. It was kept too warm, I believe; and I sat too near the fire: that was it, to be sure; and I said so, on my return; which was the moment I had drank a glass of cold water.

How tender was his regard for me! He did not abash me by causelessly laying my disorder on his story, and by offering to discontinue or postpone it. Indeed, Lucy, it was not owing to that; I should easily have distinguished it, if it had on the contrary, as I am not generally so much affected at the moment when any thing unhappy befalls me, as I am upon reflection, when I extend, compare, and weigh consequences, I was quite brave in my heart. Any thing, thought I, is better than suspense. Now will my fortitude have a call to exert itself; and I warrant I bear, as well as he, an evil that is inevitable. At this instant, this trying instant, however, I found myself thus

brave: so, my dear, it was nothing but the too great warmth of the room which overcame me.

I endeavoured to assume all my courage; and desired him to proceed; but held by the arm of my chair, to steady me, lest my little tremblings should increase. The faintness had left some little tremblings upon me, Lucy; and one would not care, you know, to be thought affected by any thing in his story. He proceeded.

AT BOLOGNA, and in the neighbourhood of Urbino, are seated two branches of a noble family, marquises and counts of Porretta, which boasts its pedigree from Roman princes, and has given to the church two cardinals; one in the latter age, the other in the beginning of this.

The Marchese della Porretta, who resides in Bologna, is a nobleman of great merit: his lady is illustrious by descent, and still more so for her goodness of heart, sweetness of temper, and prudence. They have three sons and a daughter

[Ah, that daughter! thought I.]

The eldest of the sons is a general officer, in the service of the king of the Two Sicilies; a man of equal honour and bravery, but passionate and haughty, valuing himself on his descent. The second is devoted to the church, and is already a bishop. The interest of his family, and his own merits, it is not doubted, will one day, if he lives, give him a place in the Sacred College. The third, Signor Jeronymo (or, as he is sometimes called, the Barone) della Porretta, has a regiment in the service of the king of Sardinia. The sister is the favourite of them all. She is lovely in her person, gentle in her manners, and has high, but just, notions of the nobility of her descent, of the honour of her sex, and of what is due to her own character. She is