"Nay, Doctor, you are wrong. am glad you have broken the ice; she must be talked to on the subject, but we dared not begin."

Pray, how long has her lady ship known of it?"

"I believe about six months after Sir Henry became alarmed about it; for, at first, he disbelieved it, and paid no attention to it whatever. He was never aware, however, that she knew the secret source of his anxiety and illness; and as she saw him so bent on concealing it from her, she thought it more prudent to acquiesce. Fancy, Doctor, what my poor sister must have suffered! She is the noblest creature in the world, and could have borne that which has almost killed her husband, and quite destroyed his reason. People have noticed often his strange manner; and circulated a hundred stories to the discredit of both, which Anne has endured without a murmur, often when her heart was near break ing! Alas! I am afraid she will sink at last!" She hurried from me, overcome by her emotions, and I drove off, not much less oppressed myself.

During the next few weeks, I visited, almost daily, both Sir Henry and Lady Anne. It was a dreadful period for the former, whose malady broke out into the most violent paroxysms, rendering necessary restraints of a very severe character. Who could have believed that he was looking on the once gay, handsome, accomplished, gifted Baronet, in the howling maniac, whom I once or twice shuddered to see chained to a staple in the wall, or fastened down on an iron-fixed chair, his head close shaven, his eyes bloodshot and staring, his mouth distorted, uttering the most tremendous imprecations! I cannot describe the emotions that agitated me as I passed from this frightful figure, to the

bedside of the peaceful, declining sufferer, his wife, buoying her up from time to time with accounts of his improvement! How I trembled as I told the falsehood!

Sir Henry's bodily health continued to improve; his flesh remained firm; the wilder paroxysms ceased, and soon assumed a mitigated form. In his eye was the expression of settled insanity! I confess I began to think, with the experienced Dr Y, that there was little reasonable hope of recovery. His case assumed a different aspect almost daily. He wandered on from delusion to delusion, each absurder than the other, and more tenaciously retained. On one occasion, after great boisterousness, he became suddenly calm, called for twenty quires of foolscap, and commenced writing from morning to night, without intermission, except for his meals. This, however, remained with him for nearly three weeks; and the result proved to be a speech for the House of Commons, vindicating his alleged ill-treatment of Lady Anne, and his claims to his title and estates! It must have taken nearly a fortnight to deliver! He insisted on his keeper, a very easy-tempered phlegmatic fellow, hearing him read the whole-good occupation for a week-when the Baronet tired in the middle of his task. He always paused on my entrance; and when I once requested him to proceed in my presence, he declined, with a great air of offended dignity. I several times introduced the name of Lady Anne, curious to see its effect upon him; he heard it with indifference, once observing, "that he had formed a plan about her which would not a little astonish certain persons." I represented her feebleness-her emaciation. He said coldly, that he was sorry for it, but she had brought it upon herself, quoting the words, "Thus even-handed justice," &c. He adopted a mode of dress, that was remarkably ridiculous, and often provoked me to laughter, in spite of myself-a suit of tightly-fitting jacket and pantaloons, made of green baize, with silk stockings and pumps. His figure was very elegant and well-proportioned, but in this costume, and with his hair cut close upon his head, looked most

painfully absurd. THIS was Sir Henry Harleigh, Baronet, M. P. for the county of husband of the beautiful Lady Anne -, master of most accomplishments, and owner of a splendid fortune! Thus habited, I have surprised him, mounted on a table in the corner of his room, haranguing his quiet keeper, with all the vehemence of parliamentary oratory; and on my entrance, he would sneak down with the silliest air of schoolboy shame! He became very tractable, took his meals regularly, and walked about in a secluded part of the grounds, without being mischievous, or attempting to escape. And who shall say that he was not happy? Barring a degra dation, of which only others were sensible, what had he to trouble him? Where, in this respect, lay the difference between Sir Henry, wandering from delusion to delusion, revelling in variety, and the poet, who always lives in a world of dreams and fancies all his own?

And Lady Anne-the beautiful— the once lively Lady Anne-was drooping daily! Alas, in what a situation were husband and wife! I could not help likening them to a noble tree, wreathed with the graceful, the affectionate ivy, and blasted by lightning-rending the one asunder, and withering the other. For so in truth it seemed. Lady Anne was evidently sinking under her sorrows. All the attentions of an idolizing family, backed by the fond sympathies of "troops of friends" -even the consolations of religion —seemed alike unavailing!

The reader has not yet, however, been put into distinct possession of the cause of all this devastation.

It seems that shortly after his marriage, his solicitor suddenly travelled to the Continent after him, to communicate the startling-but in the Baronet's estimation ridiculous-intelligence, that a stranger was laying claim to all he held in the world, of title and fortune. The lawyer at length returned to England, overpersuaded by the Baronet, to treat the matter with contemptuous indifference; and nothing further was in fact heard for some months, till, soon after Sir Henry's return, he received one evening-at his club-a circumstance which I have before

said appeared to confirm certain speculations then afloat-a long letter, purporting to come from the solicitor of the individual preferring the fearful claim alluded to. It stated the affair at some length, and concluded by requesting certain information, which, said the writer, might possibly have the effect of convincing his client of his error, and conducing to the abandonment of his claim. This shocking letter at length roused the Baronet from his lethargy. Several portions of it tallied strangely with particular passages in the family history of Sir Henry, who instantly hurried with consternation to his solicitor, by whom his worst apprehensions were aggravated. Not that the lawyer considered his client's case desperate; but he at once prepared his agitated client for a long, harassing, and ruinous litigation, and exposure of the most public nature. It cannot be wondered at that a sense of his danger should prey upon his feelings, and give him that disturbed manner which occasioned the speculations, hints, and innuendoes, mentioned in an early part of this paper. He anxiously concealed from his lady the shocking jeopardy in which their all on earth was placed; and the constant effort and constraintthe withering anxiety-the long-continued apprehensions of ruin — at length disordered, and finally overthrew his intellects. What was the precise nature of his adversary's pretensions, I am unable to state technically. I understand it consisted of an alleged earlier right under the entail. To support his claim, every quarter was ransacked for evidence by his zealous attorney, often in a manner highly indelicate and offensive. The upstart made his pretensions as public as possible; and a most imprudent overture made by Sir Henry's solicitor, was unscrupulously-triumphantly-seized upon by his adversary, and through his means at length found its way into the newspapers. The additional vexation this occasioned Sir Henry may be readily imagined; for, independently of his mortification at the circumstance, it was calculated most seriously to prejudice his interests; and when he kept ever before his agonized eyes the day of trial which was approaching, and the horrible.

catastrophe, he sunk under the mighty oppression. Lady Anne had, despite her husband's attempts at secrecy, for some time entertained faint suspicions of the truth; but as he obstinately, and at length sternly interdicted any enquiry on her part, and kept every document under lock and key, he contrived to keep her comparatively in the dark. He frequently, however, talked in his sleep, and often did she lie awake listening to his mysterious expressions with sickening agitation. The illness of Sir Henry and his lady, together with its occasion, were now become generally known; and the cruel paragraph in the morning paper above copied, was only the precursor of many similar ones, which at length went to the extent of hinting, generally, the nature of the new claim ant's pretensions, with the grounds of Sir Henry's resistance.

Recollecting the event of Lady Anne's last interview with Sir Henry, the reader may imagine the vexation and alarm with which, at the time she imagined I had fixed, I heard her insist upon the perform ance of my promise. Backed by the entreaties of her relatives, and my conviction of the danger that might attend such a step, I positively refused. It was in vain that she implored, frequently in an agony of tears, occasionally almost frantic at our opposition-we were all inexorable. During a month's interval, however, very greatly to my surprise and satisfaction, her health sensibly improved. We had contrived to some extent to occupy her attention with agreeable pursuits, and had from time to time soothed her with good accounts of Sir Henry. Her little son, too—a charming creature-was perpetually with her; and his prattle served to amuse her through many a long hour. She was at length able to leave her bed, and spend several hours down stairs; and under such circumstances, she renewed her importunities with better success. I promised to see Sir Henry, and engaged to allow her an interview, if it could be brought about safely. In order to ascertain this point, I called one day upon the Baronet, who still continued at Somerfield House, though several of his relatives had expressed a wish

that he should be removed to private quarters. This, however, I opposed, jointly with Dr Y-, till the Baronet had exhibited symptoms of permanent tranquillity. I found no alteration in the mode of his apparel. If his ridiculous appearance shocked me, what must be its effect on his unhappy lady? He wore-as he did every day--his tight-fitting green baize, [what first put it into his head, I am at a loss to imagine,] and happened to be in excellent humour; for he had just before beaten a crazy gentleman in the establishment at chess. He was walking to and fro, rubbing his hands, detailing his triumph to his keeper with great glee, and received me with infinite cordiality.

*

*

"What should you say to seeing company, Sir Henry ?—Will you receive a visiter if I bring one?"

"Oh, yes-happy to see themthat is, any day but to-morrowany day but to-morrow," he replied briskly; "for to-morrow I shall be particularly engaged: the fact is, I am asked to dinner with the king, and am to play billiards with him."

"Ah! I congratulate you!-And, pray, does his majesty come to Somerfield, or do you go to Windsor ?"

"Go to Windsor?-Lord bless you, his Majesty lives here-this is his palace; and I am one of his resident lords in waiting!-Were you not aware of that ?"

"True-true; but at what hour do you wait on his majesty?"

"Three o'clock precisely-to the millionth part of a second."

"Hem!-Suppose, then, I take the opportunity of bringing my friend-who is very anxious to see you-at twelve o'clock?"

He paused, apparently considering. I was vexed that he made no enquiry as to the person I intended to introduce. I determined, however, that he should know.

"Well, Sir Henry, what say you-shall she come at twelve o'clock ?"

"If she will go soon, I don't mind; but, you know, I must not be flurried, as I shall have so soon to attend the king. How can I play billiards, if my hand trembles ?— Oh, dear, it would never do-would it?"

said I, pressing for a dispensation with the abominable head-dress.

"No, sir," he replied, quietly but decisively, and I gave up the point. His keeper whispered to me at the door, that Sir Henry alleged as a reason for dressing himself as I have described, his having to attend the king immediately after the interview with his lady; so that he would have no time for dressing in the interval.

"Is the party ready?" enquired the Baronet, interrupting our momentary tête-à-tête. I hesitated; I was suddenly inclined, at all hazards, to put off the dreaded interview; but I dared not venture on such a step. "Y-yes, Sir Henry, and waits your pleasure to throw herself into your arms."

"What! good God! throw herself into my arms! throw herself in to my arms! was there ever such a thing heard of!" exclaimed the Baronet, with a confounded air; "no, no! I can admit of no such familiarities that is going rather too farunder the circumstances- eh?" turning towards his keeper, whom he had thrust reluctantly into a costume something like that of an Austrian soldier. What do you say?" The man bowed in acquiescence.

"And further, Doctor," continued the Baronet, pointing to his keeper, "this gentleman, my secretary, must be present all the while, to take notes of what passes."

"Undoubtedly," I replied, with an air of intense chagrin, inwardly cursing myself for permitting the useless and dangerous interview. I hastened back to the apartment in which I had left the ladies, and endeavoured to prepare Lady Anne, by describing, with a smile, her husband's dress. She strove to smile with me, and begged that she might be led into his presence at once. Leaning between Lady Julia and myself, she shortly tottered into the Baronet's room, having first, at my suggestion, drawn down her black veil over her pale face.

"Pen! pen! pen!" hastily whispered the Baronet to his keeper, as we opened the door-and the latter instantly took his seat at the table, before a desk, with pens and ink. The Baronet bowed courteously to us as we entered.

"Speak to him," I whispered, as I led in her ladyship. She endeavoured to do so, but her tongue failed her. Her lips moved, and that was all. Lady Julia spoke for her sister, in tremulous accents. Lady Anne closed her eyes on seeing the fantastic dress of her husband, and shook like an aspen-leaf.

"Harry, dearest Harry," at length she murmured, stretching her trembling arms towards him, as if inviting him to approach her. Sir Henry, with a polite but distant air, took off his cap for a moment, and then carefully replaced it, without making any reply.

"Shall we take seats, Sir Henry?" I enquired.

"Yes-she may be seated," he replied, with an authoritative air, folding his arms, and leaning against the corner of the window, eyeing his lady with curious attention.

"Are you come here of your own free will ?" said he, calmly.

"Yes, Henry, yes," she whispered. "Put that down," said the Baronet, in an under tone, to his secretary.

"Are you recovered ?"

Quite, dearest!" replied his lady, faintly.

"Put that down," repeated the Baronet, quickly, looking at his "secretary" till he had written it. There was a pause. I sat beside Lady Anne, who trembled violently, and continued deadly pale.

"I am sure, Sir Henry," said I, you are not displeased at her ladyship's coming to see you? If you are not, do come and tell her so, for she fears you are offended!" She grasped my fingers with convulsive efforts, without attempting to speak. Sir Henry, after an embarrassed pause, walked from where he had been standing, till he came directly before her, saying, in a low tone, looking earnestly into her countenance, "God be my witness, Anne, I bear you no malice; is it thus with you?" elevating his finger, and looking towards his keeper, intimating that he was to take down her replybut none was made. He dropped slowly on one knee, drew the glove off his right hand, as if going to take hold of Lady Anne's, and tenderly said, "Anne, will you give me no reply?" There was no madness in