its legitimate object, might, I fear, do more harm than good in the case supposed. Perhaps even you yourself will find it. most prudent to act without remonstrat ting, or appearing to be aware of this little anecdote. Julia is very like a certain friend of mine; she has a quick and lively imagination, and keen feelings, which are apt to exaggerate both the good and evil they find in life. She is a charming girl however, as generous and spirited as she is lovely. I paid her the kiss you sent her with all my heart, and she rapped my fingers for my reward with all hers. Pray return as soon as you can. Meantime rely upon the care of yours faithfully,

ARTHUR MERVYN."

"P. S. You will naturally wish to know if I have the least guess concerning the person of the serenader. In truth, I have none. There is no young gentleman of these parts, who might be in rank or fortune a match for Miss Julia, that I think at all likely to play such a character. But

on the other side of the lake, nearly opposite to Mervyn-Hall, is a d―d cake-house, the resort of walking gentlemen of all descriptions, poets, players, painters, musicians, who come to rave, and recite, and madden, about this picturesque land of ours. It is paying some penalty for its beauties, that they are the means of drawing this swarm of coxcombs together. But were Julia my daughter, it is one of those sort of fellows that I should fear on her account. She is generous and romantic, and writes six sheets a-week to a female correspondent; and it's a sad thing to lack a subject in such a case, either for exercise of the feelings or of the pen. Adieu once more-were I to treat this matter more seriously than I have done, I should do injustice to your feelings; were I altogether to overlook it, I should discredit my own."

The consequence of this letter was, that, having first dispatched the faithless messenger with the necessary powers to Mr

7

Mac-Morlan for purchasing the estate of Ellangowan, Colonel Mannering turned his horse's head in a more southerly direc tion, and neither "stinted nor staid" until he arrived at the mansion of his friend Mr Mervyn, upon the banks of one of the lakes of Westmoreland.

CHAPTER XVII.

"Heaven first, in its mercy, taught mortals their letters, For ladies in limbo, and lovers in fetters,

ye,

Or some author, who, placing his persons before
Ungallantly leaves them to write their own story."

WHEN Mannering returned to England, his first object had been to place his daughter in a seminary for female education of established character. Not, however, finding her progress in the accomplishments which he wished her to acquire so rapid as his impatience expected, he had withdrawn Miss Mannering from the school at the end of the first quarter. So she had orly time to form an eternal friendship with Miss Matilda Marchmont, a young lady about her own age, which was nearly

eighteen. To her faithful eye were addressed those formidable quires which is sued forth from Mervyn Hall, on the wings of the post, while Miss Mannering was a guest there. The perusal of a few extracts from these may be necessary to render our story intelligible.

"Alas! my dearest Matilda, what a tale is mine to tell! Misfortune from the cradle has set her seal upon your unhappy friend. That we should be severed for so slight a cause-an ungrammatical phrase in my Italian exercise, and three false notes in one of Paesiello's sonatas! But it is a part of my father's character-of whom it is impossible to say, whether I love, admire, or fear him the most. His suc cess in life and in war-his habit of making every obstacle yield before the ener gy of his exertions, even where they seemed insurmountable,-all these have given a hasty and peremptory cast to his character, which can neither endure contradiction, nor make allowance for defici