mother from an expense which I well knew it would be almost impossible for her to incur without depriving herself and sick husband of comforts of which they stood much in need. I wrote off to inform Mrs. Howard of my plans and intentions towards her child, assuring her that as long as I had health and strength to exert myself, it would be a pleasure to me to do so, particularly now I knew it might benefit those I loved. I added that I had no intention of marrying, and had not, to the best of my belief, a relation on the face of the earth, therefore I should wrong no one, in adopting her little Ellen.

Nothing could be more easy than the life I now led. My noble mistress was so kind, my duties so light and agreeable, and I was so surrounded not only by every comfort, but every luxury, that I really had nothing to wish for; and, as may be supposed, I hoped and expected that I had at last arrived at a haven of rest. Alas! these hopes and expectations were soon to be frustrated.

At the expiration of a year and a half after

her marriage, the Duchess of Lavandale presented her husband with a son and heir. The joy caused by this event was soon turned into sorrow, the good and lovely young duchess had scarcely pressed her little one to her bosom, before death tore her from him and the distracted duke. The splendid mansion was closed, and all in it appeared overwhelmed with grief, by this dreadful and unexpected blow. Lady Caroline Clareville, who was with her sister during her confinement, seemed so stunned that it was some time before she could be roused to exertion.

The first thing she did after the first shock was over, was to take her little motherless nephew to the almost frantic duke, in hopes that the sight of his first-born might calm his tumultuous feelings. But it had a very different effect. He could not for a considerable time bear to look upon the poor child, whose life had been bought with one dearer than its own.

When the last sad duties were paid, his

grace became rather more composed, and he entreated Lady Caroline to remain and watch over his infant heir. That excellent lady willingly consented, and well she performed her task. She refused all offers of marriage, and devoted her whole life to the care of her beloved sister's child.

I of course was obliged again to look out afresh for another mistress, and another shelter, with little hopes of ever again meeting with one so good and kind, or a situation in every respect so congenial to my feelings.

When I went to take my last painful leave of Lady Caroline Clareville, she assured me that in consequence of the regard felt for me by her late beloved sister she was anxious to promote my interest to the best of her ability, and kindly added that she would gladly have retained me, had she not still the attached Mrs.

Tomkins.

The duke had requested Lady Caroline to express his strong sense of my fidelity to his late duchess, and his wish that I would remain

under his roof as long as it was agreeable to me, or till I could settle myself to my satisfaction.

As I was anxious to see Lady Eustace, Mrs. Davies and Ellen Howard, I thought I had better take advantage of my being at liberty, and not prolong my stay at Lavandale; I accordingly made preparations for my departure, when Lady Caroline a few days before I intended to set off, sent to tell me that the Marchioness of Cressingham had written to her to make enquiries respecting me, and had expressed a wish that I would, if disengaged, hasten to her, as she was in immediate want of a person answering my description. I was much disappointed that I could not go at once to town as I had intended; for I not only much wished to see my dear friends, but I really needed repose after the harass and distress I had suffered, consequent upon the death of the late excellent duchess.

However, I did not hesitate to obey the wishes of the Marchioness of Cressingham, being uncertain whether I might have so good

an offer again, and I also considered how necessary it was, that I should continue to exert myself if I meant to keep independent, and to persevere in my care of, and intentions towards, Ellen Howard.

I was to meet the marchioness at Newmarket. Accordingly, one fine morning in October, I left for ever Lavandale Court. I had experienced under its almost princely roof so much real kindness, that, in addition to the grief I felt for the premature loss of my gentle mistress, I was quite overcome when I gave a last look to the windows of the apartment where she had breathed her last, and with a very heavy heart I entered the carriage which was to convey me to the neighbouring town, and in which I had so often followed the lamented duchess in her excursions and travels.

I experienced a great change when I left this luxurious conveyance, to which I had been so long accustomed, for a dirty stage coach, crammed with two noisy children and three passengers besides myself. I therefore