an open, agreeable countenance, though not perhaps what would be called decidedly handsome, of quiet and rather grave manners (as I understood) to strangers, but very cordial to those whom he loved and respected.

I was of course desirous to see a person who was so nearly connected with the family, and who, according to the account of Mrs. Tomkins, was about to become more so.

When the duke called on the morning on which I first saw him, he was introduced to the dowager countess and her daughter, who, for some reason or other, never left the room, so that his cousins had no opportunity of holding any confidential communication with his grace. It is true, on their first interview on the previous day the countess had not intruded; but the two noble sisters had been so affected at sight of their cousin, that they had neither the spirits nor inclination to enter minutely into their feelings of sorrow and desolation at the unhappy step taken by their late father..

The countess on this day, and always after, (when in company with the duke,) appeared to

be the same amiable, affectionate, and winning person that she was when she first became acquainted with the Ladies Clareville, and succeeded in winning the earl to her purpose. Miss Barrett was also all mildness, all humility, purity, and beauty.

Though the countess contrived that the two sisters should never, after the first day, have a private interview with the duke, she managed to have several herself with his grace, and it soon appeared that something must have transpired to have weakened the duke's affection, or, at least, to have damped his warmth of manner towards his two lovely cousins. They soon perceived this, and it naturally produced a coldness or reserve in their deportment towards his grace.

This was exactly what the countess wished to produce. She was playing a desperate game, and resolved that nothing should be spared on her part to succeed in it. It was this: To wean the duke from Lady Geraldine, to whom it was generally supposed he

was attached, and secure him for her own

daughter.

For this purpose she laid her plans so artfully, and so successfully, that in two months from the day on which the Duke of Lavandale was first introduced to the beautiful Miss Barrett, he appeared to think of nothing but her, while, at the same time, he avoided any thing like familiarity or private conversation with the Ladies Clareville.

This unaccountable conduct both astonished and distressed them beyond measure; but they were too proud to seek an explanation which their much-altered cousin evidently wished to avoid.

The countess announced her intention of going down to Clareville Castle for a few months, as she observed to her step-daughters, that during the prolonged absence of their brother, it would be as well to occupy it for that time.

It might have been thought, as she had invited the Duke of Lavandale to accompany

them into the country, that she would have permitted Lady Geraldine to accompany her sister on a visit to their aunt, the dowager Lady Melton, who had, repeatedly, since their return to England invited them to her villa near town; but the countess, who cunningly feared to have Lady Geraldine out of her sight, positively refused to allow her to go, saying, in a most hypocritical tone, "You know very well that I promised your poor dear father to watch over you till of age, and I will be faithful to that promise."

Lady Geraldine did not know, that when her step-mother made this speech in a solemn and tender tone, her cousin, the duke, was within hearing, flirting with the heartless but beautiful Charlotte.

As Lady Geraldine was not permitted, by this anxious guardian, to visit her exemplary aunt, Lady Caroline also declined the invitation, as she was resolved not to leave her sister alone to the tender mercies of the detestable

countess.

Before we left town I obtained leave to

spend one day with Lady Eustace, and another with Mrs. Davies and my little favourite Ellen, and with strict charges to the nurse, I was obliged to bid them adieu, first writing to inform Mrs. Howard of the continued health and safety of her dear child.

It would have been a most delightful change for our unhappy ladies to leave town for their charming abode in the country had they been in the society of friends they loved. They were, however, in constant contact with an odious and deceitful step-mother, her still more artful and heartless daughter, and their estranged but still loved cousin.

We arrived at Clareville Castle on a delicious summer evening, the countess, her daughter, and the duke travelling in one carriage, and the Ladies Clareville, Mrs. Tomkins, and myself in another.

The castle is situated in a noble park on the coast of and stands at the distance of about a quarter of a mile from the beach. Here our unhappy young ladies took their daily walks, unaccompanied by any one but