in Sedley's heart and appearance, and he went forth into the crowded streets pale, haggard, and restless.

The whole day was consumed in fruitless enquiries, and he was returning home fatigued and discouraged, when he remembered one hotel much frequented by travellers which he had overlooked in his search. He instantly returned to it, and found from the landlord, that an English family had slept there the night before, and had been at the theatre, but that they had gone on to Milan early in the morning. He described the family as consisting of a gentleman and lady with their children and a governess, also a young lady who was travelling with them. Sedley asked him to describe this young lady, and from what he heard, he was convinced that it could be no other than Teresa. When the mind is full of an object, we take hold of the slightest sketch and fill it up to our own satisfaction. The host had described the young lady as having dark hair and eyes, with a fair complexion. This was quite sufficient to bring

conviction to Sedley's mind, although it might not have appeared so conclusive to a cooler judgment.

To Milan, therefore, Sedley resolved to follow, and he easily prevailed on his mother to leave Genoa, but no persons answering his description had been seen in Milan, and he lost all trace of them. They travelled from place to place with equal ill-fortune, and at length, Sedley's mind again settled down into the calm it had enjoyed before this last event. was still with the Sedleys, and they had become so much accustomed, and so much attached to her, that they never thought of a separation from her. Her step-mother was but too happy to be rid of her, and her father was entirely governed by his young wife.

Chiara

Chiara was eminently beautiful, and perfectly aware of her advantages-she was in an uncommon style for an Italian; her golden ringlets, large dark blue eyes and long fringed eyelashes, her exquisitely cut mouth and delicately fair complexion, were all purely Saxon. Her form

was symmetrical, and her deportment extremely graceful. She was radiant with joyousness and animation

"A subtle, wild, yet gentle being;

Graceful without design, and unforeseeing;
With eyes!"

She was the star of whatever circle she moved in, and the admiration she had received from all casual visitors to Florence, together with the soft flattery and sweet incense offered daily to her charms by her own intimates, had conspired to spoil her, and a spirit of coquetry had grown up in her heart, unnoticed and unreproved.

There is an immeasurable difference between exuberance of spirits, and the animation arising from a desire to attract, yet is one often mistaken for the other. Many sweet, innocent girls, who, from the gladness of their own hearts and the cheerfulness arising from inward approval, smile on all around, and talk and laugh gaily and indiscriminately, are immediately set down as flirts and coquettes by the

envious and splenetic. It may doubtless be far more dignified to treat half the world with silent contempt, and reserve our smiles for one or two favoured individuals, but it becomes a question whether goodness of heart and delicacy of feeling are compatible with such hauteur? We should think not. It may be argued by these dignified beings that they really cannot throw away their time and words by talking to people whose ideas never soared beyond a valse or a galopade, who consider Weippert the first of men, and a ballroom a terrestrial paradise, who invariably begin by asking them if they have been much to the Opera lately, and end by observing with peculiar pathos, how intolerably warm the rooms are, and who never have originated an idea in their lives.

Even animals are gentle and affable to their inferiors, in proportion to their size; surely, therefore, these superior beings might condescend to tolerate the innocent prattle of those with whom they associate! The coquette, on the other hand, uses the most fatiguing exertions

to gain the good will of every one; she can accommodate herself to every capacity, and be either grave, gay, sentimental, or a delightful compound of all these characters. And the perfection of her art is to keep her numerous adorers in good humour with her and each other.

Chiara was rapidly becoming of the latter class, and yet she was by no means wanting in feeling. She had never attempted to captivate Sedley, because she saw plainly that even her powers of fascination would be thrown away on him, and therefore she contented herself with the brotherly kindness he evinced towards

her.

Some English friends of Lady Sedley's arrived in Milan, on their way to Genoa, and prevailed on her to accompany them back to that city. The whole party proceeded to Genoa, and Chiara found amongst her new acquaintance an object worth fixing her attention.

One evening Sedley rode some miles out of Genoa to a small village situated at the foot