upon the waves, ever varying at sunset; while the emotions that Avice's countenance reflected, were the deepest sympathy and affection.

Avice felt much for her early friend; she saw the full bitterness of such a lot; she did not think Lord Alfred was gone this time; but she found no hope of happiness for Roma, unless indeed she possessed the high moral courage that can bring good out of evil, and strive by a constant self-denial and cheerful tenderness, to recover and hold fast the volatile affections of her husband. But, unhappily, Roma had never loved him deeply, and though she was but little aware of the fact when she married, and had not yet had the melancholy fact revealed to her that she might love morethat there were in her soul capabilities for a stronger passion (and Avice trusted, prayed, she might never be aware of it, since it could only be that another object called forth such knowledge), yet Roma had already felt that she despised his want of stability, that she might have had a happier destiny, than to be loved at

first and then not cared for and neglected. But she did not yet look back to any one individual among her admirers with regret.

Avice tried to amuse her with the story of Mademoiselle Eurilia; Roma expressed a wish to see her. The dark and splendid-looking Sofonisba di Eurilia, or Di Castel-Eurilia, was introduced to the now pale, drowsy-looking Roma; and ere long her clever, lively conversation brought back the sparkle and the rosy smiles to Roma's lovely little face. Avice seeing how they suited, left them together and retired to her solitude. She was very wearyunhappy and anxious for Roma, perplexed about Lord Alfred, sorry for Hervie Ashill, curious about "Sofonisba" and her new prospects; but this last thought reminded her to write to her mother. She could not think that

Fanny's governess would ever again fill that position. Everything seemed to conspire against it; sensible as she seemed to be about the restitution of her rank and property, it must occupy her mind very much, and make her

instructions less valuable, even if poor Fanny ever should recover from the shock her nerves had sustained, sufficiently, to endure learning of her. Fanny was about thirteen, an age when all the feelings are most easily excited, most difficult to calm, because reason is not yet strong enough, to prevent the chord painfully vibrating, from becoming a stiff muscle, a prejudice or antipathy never to be restored to healthy action again. Without being resentful, it requires great self-command at that age, and very high considerable practical holiness, even in persons of strong feelings, to resist this tendency. Fanny had always regarded Amy as a sort of sacred deposit, and the feeling against Mademoiselle Eurilia was not only "she neglected her safety," but "she tempted me also to neglect it-she led me astray."

Such feelings were not what is called amiable, nor christianlike; but Fanny's was not yet a mind perfectly imbued with the law of loveaffectionate, nay tender as she was, in daily life.

As Avice pursued these thoughts, a knock at her door was followed by the entrance of

Sofonisba" herself, with a letter to be enclosed

to Lady Keffsdale; she said Roma was tired, and she had left her to write to Lady Keffsdale, to explain that she should take her holiday as before arranged, but that having friends in and near Dover, she should be ready to escort Avice back at any moment, if she should not wish to stay the whole fortnight with Lady Alfred. She mentioned her own new prospects, and expressed her desire of staying with Lady Keffsdale, if, she touchingly added, "the past might be forgiven-forgotten she knew it could not be; but were she allowed to remain, she would love them with all her heart, and obey and serve them as a daughter and sister."

She signed herself: "Sofonisba di Castel Eurilia. Yours in all devotedness as ever."

The two letters were given to her to put into the post, as she expressed a desire to "go out and look about her."

CHAPTER VIII.

"To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell,
To slowly trace the forest's shady scene,
Where things that own not man's dominion dwell;
And mortal foot hath ne'er or rarely been;
To climb the trackless mountain all unseen,
With the wild flock that never owns a fold.

Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean

This is not Solitude; 'tis but to hold

Converse with Nature's charms, and view her stores unroll'd."

BYRON.

AVICE found much to admire in the character of Roma, that had never before struck her. Her affection for her father, and the anxiety with which she anticipated the arrival of the mail from Ceylon, where he now had an appointment,