come over again, Mrs. Sidney would act in the self same manner, when I was startled from my reverie by hearing her exclaim, in a tone of real anguish, "I am sure no mother need envy me my feelings; bereft as I am of both my sons, the one a fugitive, the other an exile in a strange land. That James yet lives, I cannot for one instant doubt, but I dare not pray for his return whilst his father continues so implacable, and declares that he will never see him again but what cuts me to the heart, Dorothy, is, that I fear Dick has forgotten me, it is so long since we have heard from him."

Mrs. Sidney here wept uncontroledly, and it was some time before I could console her. These outpourings of grief were, however, very rare; and although indulging, from time to time, in fruitless lamentations, Mrs. Sidney was, in reality, far happier than she could be induced to think herself; and day by day she was getting more accustomed to the many privations incidental to her loss of fortune.

But I now bethink me, I have quite forgotten to mention how the blameless Mrs. Brookes and her daughter have sped, since the bankruptcy. The fact is, that immediately after that calamitous event, Mrs. Brookes signified to Mr. Sidney, in no very scrupulous language, her determination of breaking off all intercourse with a family whom she said she should "always regard as the murderers of her ever

to be lamented husband." This estrangement did not occasion us any very deep anxiety.

We afterwards incidentally heard that Mrs. Brookes had supplied her ever to be lamented spouse's place greatly to her own satisfaction, and that Miss Brookes, having quarrelled with her new papa, had established herself as humble companion to some dowager Marchioness, or Countess, whose name I have forgotten. How Miss Brookes-who had been in the constant habit of exalting her own judgment into an arbitrary standard, from which she permitted no appeal,-how she-who would have maintained, to her dying day, that the shield was all of gold,' sooner than she would have been persuaded to view the opposite side-how she, I say, could have filled this same situation (which Madame de Maintenon has felicitously designated the task of amusing the unamuseable,') with satisfaction to either herself or her patroness, is a problem which I have never had an opportunity of solving. But digressions in writing are as tedious as the garrulous narratives of old age, or . . . . .'s speeches in the house, so I hasten to retrace my steps.

Thus, as I have said in the commencement of this chapter, without any incident to vary the monotony of our lives, six years passed away. To me this period seemed a resting-place in the jour

ney of life to Viola and Lucy Sidney it was a time of calm and sinless peace.' Why, why was

it of such short duration? or rather, why was it succeeded by but I must not an

ticipate.

CHAPTER VII.

My eyes are dim with childish tears;
My heart is idly stirr'd:

For the same sound is in my ears

Which in those days I heard.

WORDSWORTH.

MARGARET having one morning, by dint of persuasions, remonstrances, and raillery, prevailed on Viola and myself to accompany her to a public exhibition of pictures, we set forth at an early hour, in order that we might avoid the concourse of persons who would be attracted thither at a later period of the day; but Margaret, with her usual heedless inconsideration of the feelings of others, had contrived, by loitering on the way, straying into shops, and keeping up a lively and continuous chat with every individual of her acquaintance whom she chanced to meet, so to prolong the time, that we reached our place of destination at the very hour which the votaries of fashion seem, by one accord,

to have selected for their daily lounge. The rooms were, therefore, crowded to excess, and fatigued by my ineffectual efforts to obtain a satisfactory view of the pictures, I turned my attention from the ideal representations of loveliness, to the animated beauties by whom I was surrounded; and pre-eminent amongst these, appeared a very elegant young woman, who was leading by the hand a remarkably pretty child of about four years old, whose observation she was, as I thought, vainly endeavouring to attract towards the pictures. The lady was tall, her figure slightly inclined to embonpoint, her complexion radiantly fair, her eyes of a bright scintillating blue, and her hair of that pale golden tint which time out of mind has excited the rhapsodies of poets and lovers. To me, at least, she seemed the very perfection of northern beauty.

"How very absurd it is to show off a child at these kind of places," observed Margaret, who was evidently much disconcerted that she had not brought her own little girl to share in the tribute of admiration which was so lavishly bestowed by the assembled company on that beautiful child; at my request, however, she asked an exquisite who was hovering near her if he were acquainted with the name of my fair incognita.

"Pon my word I ought to know," lisped the youth, "but my memory is so inhospitable; I saw