as it is called, first with one admirer, then another, and the last fool as welcome as the former. My aunt, wearied and vexed at our domestic unhappiness, in a great measure forsook us, and contracted a dislike of Lady St. Aubyn, which, in some degree, extended to all her family. Edmund was still our frequent guest, but his partiality for his sister would not allow him to see a fault in her, and indeed his extreme youth made me conceal from him, as much as possible, the uneasy terms on which we lived together. We had been married about three years, and our little boy was six months old when Rosolia's father died: by his will, he appointed me the guardian of Edmund's estates, till he should attain the age of twenty-four, and requested that I would see him placed under the care of the Duke de Castel Nuovo, in agreement with the terms of his own marriage-contract with the daughter of that nobleman.

"This request I could not refuse, yet knew not how to leave my wife in England; for if her conduct were so reproachable while we were together, what had I to expect if I left her solely to her own guidance? Yet such was the perversity of her temper, I doubted whether she would accompany me abroad: to that, however, she consented, prompted, I believe, more by a wish to be as much as possible with her brother, than to oblige me. But nothing could induce her to leave the child behind, though my aunt offered to take it solely under her own care during our absence, although Rosolia herself never saw it, except for about five minutes, once or twice in the day.

"This singular obstinacy inspired my aunt with an idea (which I confess I partly shared) that Rosolia's intention was to leave the babe with her paternal relations; for though she called herself a protestant, she certainly had much inclination towards the ceremonies of the Catholic Church, and, I grieve to say, held all religious principles so lightly, that to distress me and vex my aunt, she was but too capable of placing her child in the hands of Catholics, that it might be bred up in a religion she knew my aunt abhorred, and I had no good opinion of. To counteract this, or any other scheme which might be formed to take the child from me, as well as to ensure its being well taken care of, Lady Juliana insisted that our good Bayfield should accompany us, and made her promise never to let the child be absent from her sight. But these precautions, in the event, proved useless; for the poor babe caught the small-pox soon after we landed at Cadiz, where we remained a short time, and died in my arms, attended with undeviating care by the worthy Bayfield: for, oh, my Ellen, your tender nature will recoil when I tell you its unfeeling mother refused to see it from the time the disorder came to its height, though she herself had had it, because its appearance was too shocking to her delicacy! Every care, however, that could be obtained, was lavished on it, but in vain.

"Poor Edmund grieved sincerely at this event, and shared my lonely and sorrowful hours; for he had been attached to the infant with excessive affection, and always felt for me the sincerest regard, while I considered him as my own brother, and thought no attention too much to serve or please him.

"Soon after the death of the child we proceeded to Seville, and, in the gaiety of that city, the attentions she received from her mother's relations, and the flattering compliments paid to her beauty by the crowds of gentlemen who now surrounded her, Rosolia soon lost whatever traces of sorrow remained for the loss of her infant. She was handsomer than ever, and shone in all the elegance of dress and the blaze of unnumbered jewels, with which my lavish fondness, in the early part of our marriage, and the liberality of her Spanish relations, had profusely supplied her. Her grandfather, the Duke de Castel Nuovo, at whose palace in Seville Edmund was to be placed, happened to be absent, having been suddenly called to Madrid on some important state business, and wrote to beg I would remain a month or two at his palace, when he hoped he should return thither to receive his grandson from my hands, to see his granddaughter, and thank me for the kindness with which I had taken so long a journey. Having nothing immediately to recall me to England, I was not sorry to see more of this interesting country; and hearing of a beautiful villa to be let on the bank of Guadalaxara, I removed thither with my family, preferring it to a residence in the Duke's palace.

"Nothing could exceed the beauty of our little domain, or the rich luxuriance of the country in which it stood. This villa was only two miles from Seville, where at that time several regiments were stationed, and all the officers of rank eagerly sought an introduction to me and the beautiful Rosolia. Amongst them was a man of the name of De Sylva."

At this name Ellen started, for she had heard it from Edmund, in his wild wanderings the night before; though, till that instant, she could not recollect it.

"Why do you start, my love?" said St. Aubyn; "does some intuitive emotion whisper to you that this was the wretch whose villainy involved me in so much misery?"

"It was the name," said Ellen, "which I could not recollect just now; the name I heard from Edmund."

"No doubt," replied St. Aubyn, "it dwelt upon his mind; for but last night I again endeavoured to convince him of that villain's guilt. But to proceed.

"This De Sylva was a young man of a very fine person and elegant manners; one, in short, exactly fitted to win the favour of any woman, who looked more to exterior appearance than intrinsic merit. He was, I afterwards learned, a determined gamester, of broken, if not ruined fortunes, without principles, and stained with many vices; yet this man I too soon perceived the light Rosolia had selected as her chief favourite. If she danced, he was her partner; and often was her lovely person exhibited in the fascinating but immoral dances of her country: an exhibition, oh, how unfit for an English matron!—how hateful to the delicacy of my sentiments. I am perhaps too fastidious; but I again repeat, such a display, even of grace and beauty, in a married woman, is displeasing, but carried to the excess Rosolia did, detestable. How can we wonder at the alarming strides vice has made in this country, when we see even wives and mothers, in the slightest drapery, and with an almost unlimited freedom of manners, courting the notice of men whom they know to be characters which neither honour, nor even the ties of friendship, can restrain from the gratification of their passions.

"Forgive, my Ellen, this digression, by you so little needed; but I linger and dwell on any subject which can a moment detain me from those dreadful scenes I must soon describe. I was speaking of the intimacy which now took place between this De Sylva and Lady St. Aubyn. In dancing, walking, or riding, he was her constant attendant; and in the last exercise she excited the admiration of all who beheld her. Her English side-saddle and riding-dress, and the ease with which she managed her spirited Arabian, drew the most flattering plaudits from the gay military admirers who constantly surrounded her; and most of all from De Sylva, whose manners at last became so particular and presuming, I could not avoid noticing it, and telling Rosolia if he altered not his conduct, I should be under the necessity of forbidding him my house.

"At first she only laughed at my threats, and turned every thing I said into ridicule, but still persisted in the same manner of living, till I perceived, that even in that gay country her conduct was disapproved by all who witnessed it, and who had not lost all sense of decorum; even two or three of the older officers, men of rank and consequence, began to look gravely upon her, and with a sort of displeasure at me, as if they thought me too supine in not more warmly asserting my own honour. I now determined, therefore, to remove her from the place where she had so many opportunities of meeting this young man, which, without