the case; and he determined thenceforward only to consider her as the wife of Mr. Elton, believing that appellation would act as a talisman, to prevent a return of a passion he had now persuaded himself was perfectly hopeless.

While Augustus, in his retirement at Oxford, was thus endeavouring to extinguish feelings that were only a source of regret; and while Mrs. Galton was consoling herself as much as possible for her separation from her beloved child, by renewing old friendships, and forming new acquaintances at Bath, Selina was, by degrees, becoming more familiarized with the levity, duplicity, and frivolity, which were daily exemplified in the manners of Lady Eltondale and her different visitors. At length the time approached for their removal to London: an early day in April was fixed for their journey, which Selina anticipated with all the delight of a young vivacious girl, that at last found herself on the confines of a new world of pleasure, the enjoyments of which were yet untasted, and its sorrows unsuspected.

When the moment of their departure actually came, she gave way to unmixed feelings of joy. She laughed, sung, and frolicked round the room like a sportive child, and yet she could scarcely define her own emotions. She was hardly conscious that her pleasure, in a great degree, arose from the silently cherished hope of seeing Augustus. She had felt surprised, and even hurt, at his not having, as she supposed, made any inquiry after her, during her four months' stay at Eltondale. But she had always felt an unaccountable unwillingness to mention his name to Lady Eltondale; nor did she even to herself confess how much the expectation of seeing him once more contributed to the pleasure she anticipated from her visit to London.

The future was now opened to her view like an extended horizon, shining in all the luxury of light, which, while the intervening masses of the ground lay concealed, depicted no object in its natural colours, but touching here and there some prominent beauty with its most resplendent rays, confounded all the rest in one undistinguishable mass of brilliancy. As they were stepping into the carriage, a letter from Mr. Elton was delivered to Lord Eltondale. Little did Selina imagine she had any reason to be interested in the packet his Lordship so anxiously perused; and even had she been aware of the mention made in it of herself, it would scarcely have had power to withdraw her thoughts from the nearer, and therefore with her more powerful attraction.

To the Viscount Eltondale.

Paris, April 3.

I beg you will, my dear father, accept my best thanks for your last kind letter, though I must remark, that your affectionate solicitude for my happiness makes you over anxious to promote it. I confess I was more surprised than pleased to find, that, without in the least consulting my inclinations, you had entered into an engagement to contract Miss Seymour to me! Pardon me, my Lord; but had you and Sir Henry Seymour been employed in assisting each other to match your carriage horses instead of your children, less ceremony could scarcely have been used. You dilate much on Miss Seymour's beauty and fortune:—I am no cynic; yet, strange to say, the one is nearly as indifferent to me as the other. However if I find, on becoming acquainted with the character of the young lady in question, I can esteem and love her, I shall not object to her beauty or her riches, but shall duly appreciate the honour she would confer on me in making me her husband. But till I can judge for myself, I feel I have a right to demand, that neither you nor Lady Eltondale will do aught to compromise my honour in this affair. In a word, these are not times to risk the well-being of one so young and lovely, by a match of mere convenience: unless I can feel for the "innocent charming" Selina, Lady Eltondale so eloquently describes, all the attachment she merits, I will never have the cruelty to unite myself to her. Her orphan state sanctifies her in my eyes. Had she a father or brother to watch over her welfare, I might, perhaps, be less scrupulous; for, as it regards myself, it is a matter of perfect indifference to me whom I marry now—my hopes are frustrated, my spirits depressed, and I feel it a mere mockery to mention happiness and marriage together. Perhaps some ten years hence, when "I have forgot myself to stone," I may sacrifice the remnant of my joyless existence to family interests.

"As all my prospects of felicity in private life are blasted, I turn with more avidity to that course of public usefulness, which alone can now afford me satisfaction. Every thing has been sacrificed to it.

"I wish to obtain your consent to my remaining some time longer in this capital, to continue a course of inquiry I have entered into on points of great political importance, and to profit by the acquaintance of some public characters, who may aid me in my pursuits. I am grieved at what you tell me about the mortgage on Eltondale. Would my joining you in a bond be of any use?—If so, command me."

As the rest of Mr. Elton's letter was on law business, it could be of no interest except to the person to whom it was addressed.

CHAPTER III.

Selina's impatience to reach the end of her journey made her consider it tedious in its progress, notwithstanding the velocity with which Lady Eltondale always travelled; who was too much a woman of fashion not to increase as much as possible her own consequence along the king's highway, by the trifling exertion of keeping the poor goaded animals which had the honor of drawing her vehicle at their utmost speed, thereby endangering the lives of such of his majesty's peaceful subjects as happened to approach them. As to Lord Eltondale, he seldom found leisure to reflect on the consequence attending any direction her Ladyship pleased to give; and even had he reflected, he would scarcely have ventured to dissent, so confirmed was his habit of passive acquiescence. Indeed, poor man, he was in a situation something similar to the coronet on his own equipage,—an external appendage to Lady Eltondale, which, while hurried along under the direction of her caprice, gave her a dignity in the eyes of the many, who merely look on the outside of every thing, but, in reality, totally disregarded by all those who were admitted into the interior.

At last, from a little eminence on the road, the first view of London broke on Selina's delighted eye. And yet such had been the exaggerated picture of this queen of cities, which her vivid imagination had drawn, that the coup d'œil almost disappointed her. It is true, a long line of smoke darkened the whole horizon, yet she could scarcely believe, the towers she saw so pre-eminent in the distance were really the St. Paul's, and Westminster Abbey, she had so long wished to see. Judgment must be corrected by experience, before it can form a true scale for grandeur either moral or physical. However, as by degrees Selina discovered the immensity of the parts, she formed some idea of the comparative magnitude of the whole; and as she approached the metropolis, the throng of passengers of every rank, the crowd of carriages of all descriptions, the protracted suburbs, and the bustling scene altogether, nearly overcame