state of her mind, and how much she stood in need of his spiritual assistance.

When I returned home, I found the dowager in a very wrong, unchristian temper of mind indeed. Nothing could convince her of the duty of forgiving (as she, poor mortal, expressed it) the unpardonable offence of this penitent sinner.

Though her ladyship was too proud to contend the matter with her son, I saw that she was highly indignant at what she called "his extreme weakness."

At the earl's desire, I hastened to communicate to him the substance of my conversation with the physician, and his opinion of the desperate state of the lady. It was, therefore, settled, that the next morning I was to take the two young ladies for half an hour to their dying mother; and that, if she could bear it, he himself would accompany me there in the afternoon, to pronounce her pardon, and his last adieu.

As the dowager was very desirous that none

of the servants should be informed of the condition, or even the existence of the young countess, she determined, painful as was the alternative, to accompany the young ladies and myself in the carriage to the end of the street where the poor invalid lived, and I was from thence to conduct the children to the apartment of their unhappy mother, with strict injunctions not to exceed the stipulated half hour, and to keep them in utter ignorance as to whom they were about to visit.

As we drove along, sad enough, in spite of the gaiety of the little ones, (indeed that helped to make me more unhappy,) the dowager observed to them that I was going to take them to see a sick person, and that they must not chatter and ask questions.

"Why are we going to see her, grandmamma?"

She, however, gave no answer, and soon after the carriage stopped.

The children were very inquisitive to know why their grandmamma did not accompany us.

I could scarcely keep the tears from stream

ing down my cheeks as we ascended the lofty staircase. We entered the ante-room, and I beckoned Lisette to remain with the young ladies, and keep them quiet while I stepped into the bed-room to prepare their unfortunate mother for the meeting.

As soon as she saw me, she stretched forth her thin white hand; as I gently pressed it, I whispered, "Can you, dear madam, bear to see your little darlings without betraying yourself? as on that condition alone have I permission to conduct them to you."

"Dear, kind Theresa, I promise every thing, only bring them to me, and let me press them to this broken heart."

I moistened her parched lips with some wine and water, and then with a beating heart opened the door, and beckoning the Ladies Julia and Emmeline, and whispering them to be very quiet, led them to the bedside of her who gave them birth.

As I placed them by her side, she opened her heavy eyes. No sooner did they fall on those dear objects, than a faint scream of joy.

escaped her, while those eyes, before so dull and heavy, flashed with unearthly brightness. She raised herself from her pillow, and throwing herself with unnatural strength towards them, she had, before they were aware of her intention, clasped them in her arms, and strained them to her shrunk and faded bosom.

The poor children at first looked a little frightened, but recovering themselves, to my surprise and delight they kissed the pale cheeks down which were streaming bitter, bitter tears.

"Poor lady, don't cry so," said Lady Julia, while Lady Emmeline kept kissing her poor mother's hand.

I declare I thought my heart would break during this trying scene.

At length I was compelled to say that they must part. One more kiss, and then another, and another, and she saw them no more.

I hurried the bewildered and agitated children to the carriage, and having seen them safe with the dowager, informed her that the

sick lady was in such a weak state that I could not leave her.

I accordingly hastened back, and it was well that I did so. I found her to all appearance dead, and Lisette endeavouring in vain to restore her Our united efforts at last succeeded.

To my surprise, with a calmness which she had not before exhibited, she declared herself strong enough to go through the still more painful and dreaded interview with the earl.

It had been settled that he should come in the afternoon, and that I was to remain with. them during the trying scene. It is impossible to tell how much I dreaded it.

At the appointed hour Lisette called me out, and in the ante-room I found the earl, pale as monumental marble.

"I am ready, Theresa," he gasped out; "the sooner this dreadful meeting is over, the better for us both."

I opened the bed-room door, and approached the bed, intending to break as gently as I