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at Thurleston," (proper accent on Mr.) and he wishes to live retired, for some good reason undoubtedly." The tone in which good was delivered said as plain as it could say, for good read bad. 'Nobody hears of a Mrs. Egerton; but a lady indeed, and a parcel of children. Nothing can be plainer-how can Mr. Knowlesdon be so deluded?"

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So far good Miss Patty; her sister gave the corollary" I am sure I shall not visit them."

The chain of reasoning was so admirable and so conclusive, that it was unanimously, hospitably, and charitably resolved, that unknown strangers must not be visited. We beg pardon of our readers for the curious tautology of these expressions; but as we pride ourselves on our fidelity of description, we are compelled to say what the ladies said before us-Unknown strangers they were pronounced, and unknown stranc. 6

gers

gers they were likely to remain, under this benevolent verdict.

Spirit of Candour! where hadst thou fled during this demand for thy presence? Why art thou so often absent when most urgently required? Hadst thou but nestled in the corner of one heart-hadst thou thence pleaded, that where all is uncertain, to judge favourably is at least as easy, though perhaps not so piquante, as to censure-hadst thou suggested that all charity is not comprised in giving alms, all wisdom in detecting error, some kinder inference had been drawn, some milder judgment had been decreed-one sentence dropt from gracious lips had changed every link in the logical chain.

Blundering Mr. Knowlesdon was again at the bottom of the mischief. "Mr. Egerton and his lady-coming for retirement." Had he said wife, the very corner-stone for scandal had been wanting; for wives are unequivocal ani

mals,

mals, but ladies-there are so many sorts of ladies, with rank, and—without rank Then why seeking retirement? To hide misdemeanour assuredly-there could be no other reason; for, let ill-bred philosophers say what they please, "of solitude being the nurse of wisdom and of virtue-that the wise are never so little lonely as when alone," to live retired from choice was the last idea that could find its way into any of the numerous unfurnished apartments of the wise heads now assembled.

CHAPTER IV.

A BALMY évening in May ushered the new inhabitants of Thurleston to their dwelling: a light post-chariot and a hackney-chaise conveyed the party. The abbey stood in a richly-wooded park, that was the favourite promenade of the villagers. This evening it so happened that Miss Wronghead and Miss Muddleton were rambling close to the abbey, about the hour Mr. Knowlesdon had named for the arrival of the strangers; but it would be wronging Miss Patty's quick sense of delicacy and propriety to insinuate she came there to have the first peep of Mr. Egerton and his lady.

The moment the chariot stopped, a young

young man, whom Miss Wronghead instantly pronounced divinely handsome, sprang out, and having playfully jumped out a laughing boy and a rosy girl, with some care assisted a lady to alight. She had thrown off her hat, and beneath a profusion of auburn hair, was seen a very youthful, a very lovely, and a very animated countenance. The chariot passed on, and the chaise drew up; the lady was now the assistant-first fondly kissing a young boy, as she placed him on the lawn, and next taking from a female servant a smiling infant. An ashy paleness overspread her face as she turned towards the large dark pile of building the abbey exhibited-no friend was there to welcome her; she pressed her baby more closely to her bosom, as if its touch had power to repel melancholy, and turn. ing her eye from the cheerless view of her future abode, to the healthy merry countenance of her crowing child, she entered the house. The gentleman had devib o'ʻ1) gaitsgitarvni o moiton bolalso?