But prudence and self-command not being amongst the qualities which spontaneously spring up and flourish in the human mind, they had not attained much growth in that of Catherine, while she was taking her chance under the tuition of Miss Mathews; and not hearing any thing in their praise from the lips of Mrs. Vernon, except that they might help to make her genteel, it is not much to be wondered at that she knew not how to appreciate or exercise them.

CHAPTER V.

THERE are many very excellent persons, round whom, nature, in the constitution of their mental frame, has thrown such a shield of defence from the attacks of sensibility, that a human being made wretched from the indulgence of mere imaginary sorrows, is to them a spectacle only fit to be exhibited within the walls of Bedlam.

And far be it from me to dispute this opinion, which may, perhaps, be not far from being a right one. I would only remark, that to such persons, I fear this portion of Catherine's story will be in a great degree revolting, since I have now to exhibit her under these particular circumstances.

Truth compels me to say, that neither the most affectionate behaviour towards herself, nor the most guarded conduct to Augusta on the part of St. Aubyn, nor the frequent endeavours she herself made to repel every suspicious thought, could restore to

Catherine that untroubled peace of mind, and entire confidence in her husband's love which had rendered her residence at Chitherto so delightful and so happy.

Augusta was that heartless, inhuman being, who, even as a wife, had no triumph so great as that of practising upon the vanity (it would be unworthy to say the hearts) of men. St. Aubyn was still her mark; and, though he forbore to offer her the pointed at. tentions she endeavoured to excite, she put it almost out of his power to address her with the merely polite civility he was desirous of extending towards her, by the footing of familiarity on which she seemed determined to receive him.

The most steadily governed mind would certainly sometimes have been shaken, by the attempts she levelled against its peace; how much more, then, was that of the unfortunate Catherine disturbed ! .

The gaiety of her disposition-the sweetness of her temper, which, though from the vivacity of her undisciplined feelings subject to hasty ebullitions of anger at untoward circumstances, had still been of that affectionate kind, which rendered her to St. Aubyn the most attractive and engaging of women—all was fading away-and, insensibly to herself, she was daily yielding to an irritability of mind which betrayed itself at first in such trifles as St. Aubyn considered it unworthy to notice; but which gradually strengthened into a sort of conduct, which it was impossible for him to pass over without comment.

Wishing as much as possible to avoid the presence of Augusta, whom she detested with a hatred which no principles within her taught her the sin of indulg. ing, Catherine had evaded as often as she could, un

der a plea of indisposition, the frequent invitations she and her husband received from the Elliots.

Whenever she went there, she invariably returned home miserable, and therefore her conduct in this respect was not, perhaps, wholly wrong. St. Aubyn, seeing the motive for it, acquiesced in her humour, though provoked to find her capable of being influenced by any thing which to him appeared so absurd.

However, he passed it off in silence, and, to spare her active fancy any exercise of its power to torment, he joined in her excuses when she chose to make any, and contentedly remained at home with her.

But when this had continued for a time, and he found himself furnishing an excellent joke to the whole mess, as a man who was tied to his wife's apron's string (a joke which Augusta had infinite joy in promoting,) he yielded to the power of ridicule : and, with more firmness than he had ever yet exhibited, he came one day to Catherine with an invita. tion from the Elliots for the evening," which," said he, it is my wish, Kate, that you accept.”

She, as usual, declared her disinclination to do so. "Then I must go without you," replied St. Aubyn carelessly.

"You must!" she repeated, "is there any absolute necessity for it."

"I don't know for necessity," said he, "but I shall choose to do it," and to avoid any further discussion of the matter he left the room.

If a thunderbolt had fallen at the feet of Catherine, she could not have been more stupified with astonishment. It was not altogether the being driven into the society of Augusta, though that was terrible

enough, which so much alarmed her; it was the sudden announcement of authority and rule on the part of St. Aubyn which struck dismay into her heart: She had hitherto indeed influenced him in the most absolute manner, or, as her enemies called it, governed him—but it had been with a sceptre of love. It had been by consulting his wishes; by making his home the scene of gaiety and talent; and being to him all that woman, in the bloom of youth, and beauty, and intellect, and impassioned affection, can be to a man of sense and taste.

"And this is all gone,-gone for ever!" she exclaimed; and darting, as she believed, upon the cause of St. Aubyn's determined resolution, "Oh, she has been talking to him-urging him to come! I see her I see her she is before me now!" she continued ; and well recollecting the familiarity of manner with which Augusta accustomed herself to address those whom she wished to persuade to any measure (and they were invariably men, for women she openly professed never to trouble her head about,) she sat down to picture in her mind's eye the allurements which had prevailed upon St. Aubyn to be so determined upon accepting her invitation.

"And he thinks thatI will patiently go and witness. all this!" she said with an indignant smile, "but I never will-no, I never, never will !" and armed with this determination, she announced it to him at dinner-but not angrily, for she wished him not to think it the result of impulse, but of settled purpose.

She merely said, that she wished to be no restraint upon him; but that for herself, she disliked Mrs. Elliot, and she would always by choice avoid her society. St. Aubyn made no reply; and as soon as she

could, Catherine sought her chamber, there to indulge, not in the "luxury of woe," for in whatever department of misery that is to be found, it certainly does not exist in the precincts of jealousy-she retired to be as completely and entirely wretched as the fact of her husband's visiting her mortal enemy, and the great probability of his being deeply fascinated and charmed by the attractions of that enemy, could possibly render her.

So vividly did her imagination place before her the scene in which he was engaged, that more than once she started up with a sudden resolution of dressing herself and following him to the house of Augusta, and alleging to her, as indifferently as she could, that she had changed her mind, and felt desirous of joining the party; thus preventing by her presence the attentions which St. Aubyn, in her absence, might not be indisposed to render to his host

ess.

She was sure that she should be less miserable there than at home, and she rung the bell for the maid to assist her toilette.

But by the time the summons was obeyed, the inconsistency and strange appearance of such a proceeding occurred to her, and she felt that she ought not to adopt it: and that, in fact, however she might attempt to disguise it, it would be nothing less than telling to Augusta all that was passing in her mind. "You may go," said she, turning to the servant who had obeyed her summons, and stood waiting to know her pleasure.

"I tell you that you may go," she repeated angrily, as the girl, perceiving her pale and agitated coun