benefits of my reformation.

And now, Sibella, I must bring you back again to my mother, with whom in these years of childhood I have been but little acquainted. She hated children; their noise and prattle and monkey tricks threw her into hysterics. For a few minutes after dinner, I was sometimes admitted, hushed to silence with a profusion of sweetmeats, and dismissed with a kiss or a frown, just as the avocations and pleasures of the day happened to fix her disposition. As I grew older, I was occasionally allowed to sit in her dressing-room, or to take the air with her in the same carriage; and on those occasions I reached the highest pinnacle of her confidence, and used to listen while she poured forth her longing desires to return to England. As I had been frequently disgusted at witnessing the malignant feuds existing among the Europeans resident in the East-Indies, it was easy for her to interest me in the first of her wishes, namely, that my father would return to England. She spoke of this island as of the abode of pleasure. She described an almost innumerable circle of friends, amidst whose society delights would abound. My imagination gave a stronger colouring to her pictures: I indulged the visionary theme till I also panted to become an inhabitant of this climate of peace, joy and felicity.

No sooner had I adopted the project than my father's lethargic indolence gave way to his desire of gratifying my wishes. He vigorously completed the necessary arrangement of his affairs; and we were in daily expectation of quitting India, when he was attacked by the malignant disease of which he died.

My mother was now the uncontrouled mistress of a world of wealth; and, placing her remittances in a proper train, we speedily set sail for our land of promise.

Safely arrived in London, I expected Mrs. Ashburn would instantly fly to the embraces of her friends. But no: a sumptuous house and equipage were first to be prepared; and, while she exulted in preparation, I repined at her want of sympathy for the feelings of those who I imagined were expecting her with fondness and impatience. Alas, Sibella, I had not followed my mother three times into her circles of friendship, ere I discovered that the enjoyments she had looked forward to, during so many years, consisted only of triumphing with superiority of splendor over those who formerly with the same motives had triumphed over her.

Here my enthusiasm in the search of sincere and uniform friendship would have been extinguished; but that my hopes yet rested on Mrs. Valmont. Of Mrs. Valmont my mother had spoken as playmate, schoolmate, and the confidant of juvenile secrets. Separated, said I to myself, near twenty years, what emotions must a first interview produce! The fire of youth in Mrs. Valmont and Mrs. Ashburn will be, for some moments, renewed; and I shall anticipate the effusions of my own heart when it finds a friend.

After exhibiting our pomp at every place of resort in the metropolis, we began our tour; and passed by several invitations to pay our first visit at Valmont castle. What a freezing sensation crept in my veins, as we waited for the raising of your uncle's draw-bridges, as we rolled along his dark avenues! Such gloom, such menacing grandeur brought into my mind a feeling totally opposite to the hilarity, the glow of expectation I had cherished on the journey. Many persons had spoken in my hearing of Mr. Valmont as the most absurd ridiculous misanthrope of his age; but I had not the highest respect for the authorities from which the information was derived, and I had also conceived with much more fancy than judgment of the delights of a life of solitude. I, in my dream, had forgotten the name of Castle, and the ideas associating with the name; my imagination in its reveries had blended elegance and simplicity, nature and art with their most fascinating productions; when, instead of smiling lawns and gay parterres, without, I found moats, walls, and draw-bridges, frowning battlements that looked as uninviting on the friend as threatening on the enemy, turrets all cheerless, all hostile, and discouraging to the wandering stranger. The castle's Gothic magnificence within reminded us at every step of the dignity of the Valmont race; the apartments received their guests without welcome; the domestics were obedient, but neither cheerful nor attentive. Through carved saloons and arched galleries, into which the bright sun of spring can only cast an oblique ray, we were conducted to Mrs. Valmont's dressing-room.

My Sibella, can you not imagine, you hear your aunt mingling complaint and compliment, languor and restlessness, and labouring to interest real sensibility by moans of imaginary disease? Can you not imagine my mother secretly urging her triumphs over the immured Mrs. Valmont, by lamenting the slavery of pleasure to which she herself is perpetually compelled? And can you not see your disappointed, disgusted Caroline Ashburn viewing caresses without warmth, hearkening to professions without sincerity?

Your uncle entered the room for a moment. Appearing to act, to speak, to look according to some rule settled for the hour, I deemed his character too much assumed to be quickly understood. From the solemn pride which sat on his brow, I judged, however, that he was fitted for his castle, and his castle fitted for him.

Here, thought I, in this place and with these people have we promised to remain for seven long days; and I quitted Mrs. Valmont's dressing-room, to search for amusement and variety in the park and surrounding woods.

I must have been devoid of taste and feeling, if in viewing the exquisite scenery of the park, I had not forgotten the gloomy entrance and the dreary building. I found a seat on the margin of that fine sheet of water which is skirted by your majestic wood; and I rested there till twilight began to spread itself over the horizon. Who would not, Sibella, although evening had cast its misty shade over the tall trees and impressed an awful serenity on every surrounding object, who would not, I say, like me have ventured into the wood rather than have returned to Mr. and Mrs. Valmont and their castle. I found the paths so admirably contrived in their breaks and windings, that I could not forbid myself to proceed. Every now and then I had an imperfect view of something dark, rugged, and mountainous. On a sudden, I caught a glimpse of a rude pile of stones, seemingly carried to a tremendous height, which as suddenly vanished from my sight, amidst the intercepting branches; a few steps further, it was again before me as a wild ruin tottering on the projecting point of a rock. Silence, solitude, the twilight, the objects filled my mind with a species of melancholy. Fancy had become more predominant than judgment. I slackened my pace: I breathed heavily: when, suddenly turning into a new path that I expected would bring me to the foot of the rock, I beheld a female form, clothed in white, seated at the foot of a large oak. Her hair, unrestrained by either hat or cap, entirely shaded her face as she bowed her head to look on a little fawn, who in the attitude of confidence and affection was laying across her lap.

The names of Wood Nymph, Dryad and Hymadriad, with a confused number of images, arose in my memory; and I was on the point of reverently retreating, but a moment's pause prevented the romance of the fence from thus imposing on my reason, and I resolved to examine whether the face like the form bespoke more of divinity than of mortal.

As I approached nearer, away bounded the fawn—up sprang the nymph. Again, Sibella, I stood still, unknowing whether to fall at your feet or to clasp you in my arms.

Such was our first romantic interview. There was something wild in your air; your language was simple and concise, yet delivered with an impressive eloquence, and I thought you altogether a phenomenon. My heart could not help partaking the transport with which you received my promise of staying with you in the wood. Yet it was to me incomprehensible how you could talk