romance of Italy, returns home through that flattest and most uninteresting of all countries, la (self-yclept) Belle France! The brilliant sun, which at first starting illumined every object, has disappeared; the constant expectation of fresh enjoyment has passed away; the eye no longer seeks to catch the first glimpse of some long-expected object; a straight, dull road alone meets it, and the only desire is to arrive with all possible speed at the end of the now wearisome journey.

Miss Trevelyan's character and the circumstances of her former life being now fully explained, it cannot excite surprise that the gay show which glided below her garden, on that evening when she was first introduced to the notice of the reader, should have affected her so strongly. She remained fixed to the spot until darkness spread over every object, and the bright lamps, twinkling on the bridge, were reflected in the rippling waters of the Thames; she then slowly ascended the steps leading to her little drawingroom. The heat of the season had long banished a fire, that only substitute for the society of a friend, and the gloomy appearance of her apartment made her almost shiver on entering, although the thermometer was at the moment at near eighty, and not a breath of air moved the leaves of the creepers which clustered round her windows. She rang for candles; and when, in course of time, her old domestic appeared with them, she perceived by their welcome light a letter addressed to herself lying on the table before her. She eagerly seized it; a letter is such an event to one who lives alone! It was from her brother, then in India with General Harris, from whom she had not heard for several months, and who was now the only remaining being for whom she could feel any real interest.

Colonel Trevelyan wrote much out of spirits; his health had suffered greatly from a wound he had received in the course of his military duties, as well as from the climate of India, and he feared he should in consequence be obliged for a time to relinquish his appointments, and apply for leave of absence, but he did not expect it would be obtained before the end of the year. He then added,

"I have been every way unfortunate of late, and have experienced a sad loss in the death of my friend Howard, of whom you have so often heard me talk. Although considerably older than myself, he has been my constant companion in arms, and most intimate friend for many years. He fell a victim to the fatigues to which the army has been exposed, and to which he was no way equal; he bequeathed to me on his death-bed rather an awkward charge, but it was one which at such a moment it was impossible to refuse, however unwilling I might be to take such a responsibility on myself. It seems he has a daughter. Even I was not aware of this circumstance till a short time before his death. Her mother was an Italian. Since quite an infant this child has, I find, been in England, and she is now at a boarding-school at Clapham. By Howard's desire, I have, since his death, written to the person who keeps the school, to inform her of the event. This poor girl appears to be left in a most desolate situation, although not destitute; for Howard was well off, and having no near relations in circumstances to give them any claims upon him, he has left every thing in his power to this daughter; but she has never as yet been taken the least notice of by any of his family, and of course they are not likely to be more favourably inclined towards her now. Were you near this poor child, I wonder whether you would object to seeing her? But I talk nonsense, for even should your kindness of heart make you overlook certain prejudices respecting her birth, I know your duties fix you closely at a far distant home, therefore what I propose must be out of the question: but do you know any one to whose kindness you could so far recommend her, that she might occasionally be visited? It would be a satisfaction to me, who am now her guardian, and therefore answerable for her welfare, to know that she is well taken care of. The name of this poor orphan, by the by, is Theresa, and in addition she bears that of Howard."

After this followed much that was painful to Miss Trevelyan, as it all referred to their father's situation, the letter announcing his death not having reached her brother when he wrote.

Miss Trevelyan pondered much over that part of her brother's letter relative to Theresa Howard. She pondered over it many days. It was true that there were prejudices (and she thought just ones) against those in Theresa's situation; but in what way could she be affected or contaminated by contact with a poor deserted orphan ? At all events, she could hardly refuse her brother's request to go and see her, and the visit need not be repeated if she did not like it.

This consideration decided her, and accordingly a pair of post-horses were ordered for the good-looking carriage; and the respectable, fat, deaf servant in the Launceston livery being mounted on the barouche seat, Miss Trevelyan drove to Miss Birch's school at Clapham. To her this was a great effort, for she ever shrunk from presenting herself before those to whom her person was as yet unknown, and this dread of observation had naturally produced a degree of shiness and timidity, which had now become constitutional; so that when, after some difficulty, the house in question was at last found, she became nervously frightened at the prospect of encountering the mistress of the school; and still more so, perhaps, when she thought of the girl herself, to whom she had not an idea what it would be proper for her to say, and who, she fancied, must be at once prejudiced against one of her appearance, if indeed it did not actually excite her ridicule.

On leaving her carriage she was shown into the parlour, where in a short time an elderly lady, with rather a forbidding aspect, joined her, announcing herself as Miss Birch. She looked and spoke as if she had taught syntax, the rule of three, and thorough-bass, all her life; however, when Miss Trevelyan told her errand, and mentioned Miss Howard, she relaxed somewhat of her rigidity, expressing great pity for her situation, and saying that she had been much affected by the intelligence of her father's death. Miss Trevelyan endeavoured to discover what sort of girl this Theresa Howard was, but could obtain no positive answer to her inquiries. Miss Birch said that she had evidently been sadly neglected previous to her residence at

her establishment that allowances were to be made in consideration of her having begun her life among foreigners and papists that she had certainly gained much by her tuition, and that she hoped in time, and under her system of education, she might be still further improved; but that it must be remembered Miss Howard had Italian blood in her veins, and that some faults were never to be corrected in short, Miss Birch was evidently one who would never implicate herself by a decided opinion, either in praise or condemnation, and, having given this most unsatisfactory, vague account of her pupil, she went in search of her, leaving Miss Trevelyan in a flutter of nerves, which every moment increased at the prospect of her interview with her brother's ward. A considerable time elapsed, during which Miss Trevelyan was busily employed composing appropriate queries and observations to be addressed to the girl, when at last the door re-opened, and Miss Birch again made her appearance, followed by one of the most lovely sylph-like figures nature had ever formed. Never having thought of asking what Theresa's age might be, and Colonel Trevelyan having always talked of her as the child, his sister had prepered herself to see some awkward, gawkylooking girl, with purple arms, a short thick figure, and hair dangling down her back. She was, therefore, lost in admiration at the being now before her, who acknowledged her presence by one of those graceful obeisances which nature alone, and not even a first-rate dancing-master, can teach. Theresa being, of course, in deep mourning, her dress and the glossy black of her hair made her smooth forehead and beautiful rounded throat appear perfectly dazzling. After one quick glance at Miss Trevelyan, her eyes were fixed on the ground, and her cheeks, which, on her first entrance, had been deadly pale, became coloured with emotion of some sort. Miss Trevelyan, although scarcely less abashed than the girl herself, went kindly up to her, and taking her cold nervous hand in both of hers, "You must look upon me as a friend, my dear Miss Howard," she said, in that mild tone of voice which was peculiar to her. "You know the sacred charge you are now become to my brother, and you must consider me at

present as his representative." Theresa's hand trembled in hers, her lip quivered, but she did not speak.

to talk in my presence.

They all sat down, and an awkward pause ensued. At length it was broken by Miss Birch. "Miss Howard is very shy," said she, speaking of her as of one absent, "and of course knows it would not be seemly if she were I have no doubt she is much gratified by your kindness in coming to visit her, and would express her thanks if she knew how. I sometimes take some of my young ladies to Richmond for a treat; and if that little junket should take place this season, I will make a point that Miss Howard shall be of the party, that she may have an opportunity of returning your civility; but at present I am going from home. This is, in fact, holyday-time; all my pupils are away, except such who have no friends to go to; those of course I allow to remain on in the house, and Miss Rag stays with them."

"Does Miss Howard, then, go nowhere during the vacations?" inquired Miss Trevelyan, in a tone of commiseration.

"she has,

"Of course not,” replied Miss Birch, dryly ; you know, no home to go to: there are two other young ladies in my seminary who are similarly situated. It is very inconvenient to me, as I am obliged to keep up an establishment during the whole of the vacation; but Colonel Howard made a point I should do so before he quitted England, and of course I feel myself still bound to keep to the bargain."

During this speech of Miss Birch's, the tears which stole down Theresa's cheeks, notwithstanding all her efforts to restrain them, excited the strongest feelings of interest and pity in Miss Trevelyan, although she could not help suspecting that they proceeded even more from wounded pride at these not very gentle hints with regard to the inconvenience which her dependence occasioned, than from any softer feeling.

Just then Miss Birch was called out of the room, and Miss Trevelyan and her young friend were left tête-à-tête. No human being possessed a kinder heart than the former; she drew near to the poor girl, and taking her hand, bade her